Wyn1 The Lost Duke of Wyndham by Julia Quinn

Author:Julia Quinn
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

187

pulled her to him, he awakened something within her.

No. It had been awakened two nights earlier. On

that moonlit night, standing outside the carriage,

something had been born within her. And now . . .

She sat upon her bed, wanting to bury herself in

the covers but instead just sitting there, staring at the

wall. There was no going back. One couldn’t ever not

have been kissed once the deed was done.

With a nervous breath, maybe even a frantic laugh,

she covered her face with her hands. Could she pos-

sibly have chosen anyone less suitable with whom to

fall in love? Not that this was the measure of her feel-

ings, she hastened to reassure herself, but she was not

so much of a fool that she could not recognize her

leanings. If she let herself . . . If she let him . . .

She would fall in love.

Good heavens.

Either he was a highwayman, and now she was des-

tined to be the consort of an outlaw, or he was the true

Duke of Wyndham, which meant—

She laughed because really, this was funny. It had to

be funny. If it wasn’t funny, then it could only be tragic,

and she didn’t think she could manage that just now.

Wonderful. Perhaps she was falling in love with

the Duke of Wyndham. Now that was appropriate.

Let’s see, how many ways was this a disaster? He was

her employer, for one, he owned the house in which

she lived, and his rank was so far above hers as to be

nearly immeasurable.

And then there was Amelia. She and Thomas cer-

tainly did not suit, but she had every right to expect

that she would be the Duchess of Wyndham upon her

188 Julia

Quinn

marriage. Grace could not imagine how crass and

overreaching she would appear to the Willoughbys—

her good friends—if she were seen to be throwing

herself at the new duke.

Grace closed her eyes and touched the tips of her

fingers to her lips. If she breathed deeply enough she

almost relaxed. And she could almost still feel his

presence, his touch, the warmth of his skin.

It was awful.

It was wonderful.

She was a fool.

She lay down, let out a long, weary breath. Funny

how she’d hoped for change, for something to break the

monotony of her days attending to the dowager. Life

was a mocking sort of thing, wasn’t it? And love . . .

Love was the cruelest joke of all.

“Lady Amelia is here to see you, Miss Eversleigh.”

Grace jolted upright, blinking furiously. She must

have fallen asleep. She could not recall the last time

she had done so at midday. “Lady Amelia?” she

echoed, surprised. “With Lady Elizabeth?”

“No, miss,” the maid informed her. “She is alone.”

“How curious.” Grace sat up, flexing her feet and

hands to awaken her body. “Please tell her I shall be

right there.” She waited for the maid to depart, then

went to her small mirror to straighten her hair. It was

worse than she’d feared, although she could not be

certain whether it had been mussed in sleep or by Mr.

Audley.

She felt her skin flush at the memory, and she

groaned at that. Gathering her determination, she re-

The Lost Duke of Wyndham

189

pinned her hair and left

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