Page 10 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

G erard was in agony because of that terrible woman.

It had been two days since she burst into his study like a Fury, and every moment since then, he had longed for her.

Ached for her. He had given her a week to decide if she would submit, and he was sorely regretting that choice.

It would have been better if he had given her days. Hours.

He had thought that gazing at her from across the ballroom might provide some measure of relief, that he could at least have the pleasure of observing her fair countenance. Gerard was quickly realizing that he had made a fatal error.

At present, he stood in Lord Darlington’s lavish ballroom. So did Lady Dorothy. She wore a pale pink gown that complemented her rosy complexion. He was reminded of how strongly she had blushed at their last encounter, how strong the expression of her lust was, and everything inside him tightened.

“You are staring,” Pontoun said.

Gerard blinked. “I was not.”

He likely had been.

“She is a rare beauty,” Pontoun added. “Suitors flock to her like bees to a flower.”

Pontoun was not speaking of Lady Dorothy. Gerard laughed a little, for the assessment was true. Lady Bridget was surrounded by a cluster of enterprising young gentlemen, Lady Dorothy standing nearby like a noble knight, dissuading the most rakish of the opportunists.

“Do you imagine her dance card is already full?” Pontoun asked.

“Why? Are you going to try wooing her?”

Gerard did not particularly care about his friend’s intentions for the young lady. He asked only to be polite and out of respect for their many years of friendship.

“Perhaps. Are you?”

“No. Lady Dorothy has already made it abundantly clear that I am unsuitable for Lady Bridget.”

“Perhaps, if you appealed to Leedway.”

Gerard shrugged. “There are other ladies equally worth pursuing and with significantly less competition than Lady Bridget.”

Besides, Lady Dorothy had already proven herself susceptible to his advances.

He only hoped that she would continue to be taken by him.

Gerard bit the inside of his cheek, considering whether he ought to approach her.

Perhaps, a little charm would persuade Lady Dorothy if she was considering not submitting to him.

There were other ladies, of course, but that mattered not.

Gerard had always readily and hotly fallen for the charms of ladies.

One would utterly consume him for months until she didn’t.

Then, he would find another. It was a defect of his nature never to linger with one for long.

Lady Dorothy was no different in that regard.

But he had never before felt the threat of rejection quite like he did with her. That made Lady Dorothy exciting in a way that he had never quite experienced before.

“I shall try,” Pontoun said.

“Best of luck, my friend.”

Some of the suitors, satisfied with signing Lady Bridget’s dance card, had wandered away.

Lady Dorothy smiled and faced her sister, tucking a wayward curl behind Lady Bridget’s ear with such tenderness that Gerard found his chest tightening.

Lady Dorothy had devoted her entire life to ensuring her siblings were content. Happy.

Pontoun crossed the room to sign Lady Bridget’s dance card. After a moment’s hesitation, Gerard followed. He tried not to look too eager. Instead, he tried to appear aloof, careless even. That was the best manner in which to intrigue a discerning lady.

“Lady Bridget,” Pontoun greeted.

Gerard’s eyes fixed on Lady Dorothy, noting with some delight that her cheeks had already pinkened in his presence. “It has been some time since we saw one another, my lady.”

“Indeed,” she said.

He let his eyes sweep leisurely over her slender form.

Her eyes sparkled, indicating that she had likely noticed his lascivious gaze.

Gerard grinned shamelessly. A proposition was right on the tip of his tongue, ready to fall, but he had promised her a week to decide.

He wanted the arrangement to be conditional, to see this proud and defiant woman made meek by his attention.

The design would be ruined if he provided his affections without making her agree to his terms.

“The week is not yet ended,” Lady Dorothy said, pitching her voice lower.

He liked what she had done with her voice. It made her sound husky and alluring. That voice belonged in his bedchamber with her sprawled over the bed linens, her coral lips parted in anticipation.

“I know,” he said. “And I have no intention of pressing you for answers tonight.”

“That is fortunate.”

What was he to make of that answer? Had she come to a decision yet, or was she still considering her options? It occurred to him that she might have already made her decision and chosen to keep him wanting and waiting for a response. His pulse jumped.

“I see that you are keeping your sister closely guarded,” Gerard said.

He did not particularly care about Lady Bridget. Gerard mentioned Lady Dorothy’s sister only because she was standing there.

“I must,” Lady Dorothy said. “There are too many rakes in the ton who are eager to take advantage of a young, innocent woman.”

“Are there?” Gerard asked, glancing at Pontoun. “I will have you know that my friend is entirely respectable.”

“I find it difficult to believe that.”

An unfamiliar gentleman approached Lady Bridget, and they swept onto the dance floor together. “Would you like to dance?” Gerard asked, tilting his head toward Lady Bridget.

The spinster inhaled sharply. “With you?”

“Who else? While I must confess that you are a lovely wallflower, I imagine that you must enjoy the odd dance. I will release you once it is ended, so you may return to your sister’s side and protect her from men like me.”

“Men like you and worse than you,” she said.

He grinned devilishly. “There is no one worse than me. It is very selfless of you to occupy my attentions, my lady, so I do not turn them to some innocent, young miss.”

He offered his arm. Her eyes darted to Lady Bridget, as if she anticipated the gentleman taking liberties in the middle of a waltz with the entire ton watching. After a moment, she accepted his arm.

“We shall dance near my sister and Lord Hamilton.”

Gerard smiled wryly. “You are determined to turn even our dance into something for your sister’s benefit.”

“It is my duty. I am her sister.”

At last, she let him lead her to the dancefloor. “You make me feel as though I am a mere tool to achieve your own ends. Or perhaps, a decoration.”

“Then, you understand what it is like to be a woman. I applaud you on your insight.”

They moved together through the first steps of the dance, and a fissure of delight jolted through Gerard as he put his hand on her waist. “Women’s lives cannot possibly be so dismal,” he said.

“How would you know? Have you ever asked them about their lives following your…” she trailed off, her face flushing with color.

Gerard raised a brow. When the dance drew them together, he leaned in just a little more than necessary. “Following my amorous encounters?” he whispered.

Her breath hitched.

Gerard drew away, feeling victorious. “Tell me about your life. I have not gotten the sense that you are either a tool or a decoration, my lady.”

She said nothing. Did that mean she had no rebuttal, or was she thinking the question should not even be dignified with a response? At last, the dance came to an end. Lady Dorothy curtsied, and he bowed.

The room seemed much colder when he wasn’t touching her, and his fingers twitched at his sides. He could not ask her for a second dance. That would be too scandalous, and he doubted that Lady Dorothy would even consent to such a request.

If Lady Dorothy longed for his presence still, she did not show it. Already, he saw that her attention had turned to Lady Bridget.

Gerard sighed. “She is not going to be disgraced if you lose sight of her for only a minute.”

Lady Dorothy’s eyes snapped to his face. “She might.”

“It is highly unlikely.”

“ Highly unlikely is insufficient.”

Lady Dorothy began to weave through the crowd, drawing nearer to her sister, who had ended the dance with Lord Hamilton. He lingered by her, nodding as Lady Bridget regaled him with what seemed to be some animated tale.

“I could dance with her.”

The suggestion was so astonishing that Lady Dorothy halted abruptly, and he nearly collided with her. She whirled around, incandescent with fury. “You will not!” she hissed.

He laughed. “Why?”

“You know why.”

Gerard shrugged. “On the contrary, I am the best man to dance with your sister. You know that I have no ill intentions towards her, for my attentions are decidedly elsewhere.”

“For now.”

“For now ?”

She stormed away from him. For a heartbeat, Gerard did not follow. Instead, he remained fixed in place, as if he were rooted there, and watched Lady Dorothy move. His eyes hungrily traced the shape of her body, provocatively hidden by the voluminous fabric of her gown. He sighed deeply.

Gerard must persuade her to agree. Could he possibly coax her into some darkened corner? Perhaps, a few kisses would be sufficient to remind the lady how much she enjoyed his company—but not so much as to push her away.

“Layton.” Leedway, positioned at the edge of the ballroom, gestured for him.

Gerard glanced again at Lady Dorothy, who had convened with Lady Bridget.

Doubtlessly, Lady Bridget was recounting all the details of the dance, and Gerard imagined Lady Dorothy listening attentively and judging every word.

Lady Bridget’s suitors ought to be vying for the attention of her elder sister, for it was clear that no man would win Lady Bridget’s heart without Lady Dorothy’s approval.

Reluctantly, Gerard crossed the room to join Leedway. “Good evening,” Gerard said.

Leedway nodded. “You seem to have considerable interest in my sister.”

Gerard hummed. “Am I so obvious?”

“Entirely,” Leedway said, taking a glass of champagne from the table behind him. “I want you to know that I expect Bridget to marry a good, respectable man.”

Lady Bridget! Gerard almost laughed. Was it truly so unthinkable that any man might fancy Lady Dorothy instead?

Or perhaps, he was thinking too much of Leedway’s words.

Lady Dorothy had always resolved not to wed, after all.

It was reasonable that her brother might discount any potential romantic prospects for her.

“I imagine she will have no difficulties in securing a match with a good, respectable man,” Gerard said. “If you are implying that I am not that man, you are correct.”

Leedway’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “My sister will not be one of your conquests.”

“I understand.”

Gerard smiled, privately enjoying the irony of the situation. Oh, Leedway’s sister likely would be one of his conquests, just not the sister he was concerned about.

“I know you understand ,” Leedway said, “but I would like you to act on that understanding. Leave my sister be.”

“I shall not vex Lady Bridget,” Gerard said. “I promise.”

“Good. See that you do not.”

Gerard wondered if the notoriously rakish Leedway found any humor in asking another rake to resist the charms of his lovely and virginal sister. Probably not. Gerard had no siblings, but he knew that even the worst of rakes might be zealous protectors of their own sisters’ virtues.

“Excuse me,” Leedway said. “Sarsen wishes to speak to me.”

Gerard nodded. Leedway went to join the rather intimidating Duke of Sarsen and his wife, the third Leedway sister.

He vaguely recalled the Duchess of Sarsen as being a wild woman, all fire and bluntness.

It was a quality that had repelled most men, so her marriage had been met with considerable surprise from everyone, Gerard included.

It seemed as though marriage had softened the lady’s edges.

Gerard’s eyes swept over the crowd, searching for Lady Dorothy. She stood near her sister, watching like a hawk. An inkling of admiration stirred within him. He had to admire the woman’s devotion to her charge.