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

T here was no flower more alluring than a lady newly introduced to the ton. His eyes swept slowly, luxuriously over the form of the young lady in her white gown. The fine material swept over her delicate curves, effectively displaying her charms without being vulgar.

Gerard’s thoughts, in contrast, were quite vulgar.

He imagined spiriting the young miss away from the ballroom and taking great handfuls of her skirts.

It would be improper for a gentleman to introduce himself to a lady, but fortunately, he knew the young miss’s sister.

Gerard halted before the ladies and bowed deeply.

“Good evening,” he said.

When he straightened, he met Lady Dorothy’s curious eyes.

She was a spinster and older than most gentlemen would like, but Gerard had found that women—no matter their age—held charms. Hers were generous.

Dorothy’s eyes were blue, and her hair was as golden as sunlight.

She was also in possession of a rather generous pair of breasts, which were made more prominent by the cut of her pale pink gown.

“Good evening,” Lady Dorothy said.

But it was quite apparent to everyone that Lady Dorothy had no interest in pursuing romance, which made an amorous congress with her rather unlikely.

“It is good to see you again,” he said. “It has been some time.”

Her steady gaze faltered. “Indeed.”

Gerard’s lips curved into a small smile. It had been years since he had spoken to Lady Dorothy, and from her expression, he surmised that she had quite forgotten who he was.

Perhaps, a small breach of propriety could be forgiven in those circumstances.

He smiled at the young woman, who stood beside Lady Dorothy. “I imagine that you are Lady Bridget,” he said, inclining his head. “I am the Duke of Greenway.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her cheeks pinkening.

Lady Dorothy took a deep inhale of air. Recognition flared in her eyes. Her expression sharpened.

“I would like to dance with you, my lady,” Gerard said, his eyes snapping to Lady Bridget’s fair face.

“That is most unfortunate,” Lady Dorothy said.

Gerard smothered a prickle of irritation. “Why is that?”

“Yes, why?” Lady Bridget asked innocently.

Lady Dorothy rolled back her shoulders and straightened his spine. She looked at him as though he was the devil incarnate, Mephistopheles, come to tempt her sister to damnation.

“Because my sister is tired,” Lady Dorothy said.

“I am not—” Lady Bridget cut off abruptly, doubtlessly quelled by her sister’s stern look.

“She will sit for now,” Lady Bridget continued, undeterred.

“Forgive me, but Lady Bridget does not seem tired,” Gerard said.

“She is ,” Lady Dorothy insisted hotly.

“If I am not mistaken, you have just arrived,” Gerard said. “While I am certain that the journey here was arduous, I find it difficult to believe that one so young would be so exhausted already.”

“And yet she is,” Lady Dorothy said. “It is kind of you to offer, Your Grace, but my sister respectfully declines.”

“I imagine that your sister is capable of telling me herself if she declines,” Gerard said. “I am quite certain that you do not need to speak for her.”

Lady Dorothy smiled tightly. “I think it best that you leave the matter, Your Grace.”

How brazen!

“Do you?” Gerard asked. “Why should I, my lady? I am only asking for a dance, a request which I am certain that you will not deny other men.”

“You are wrong,” Lady Dorothy said. “I intend to deny such a request always if it is coming from rakes such as yourself. My sister is a respectable, young miss with a reputation to uphold, Your Grace, and I do not doubt that you would see it torn to tatters.”

“What a cruel thing to say!” Gerard exclaimed.

An inkling of admiration stirred in his chest. While many women knew of his reputation, few of them dared to admit it to his face. Who would have ever guessed that the Duke of Reeds’s spinster sister might have such fire?

“Is it cruel to speak the truth?” Lady Dorothy asked. “It is known among ladies that you are a notorious rake, and I will not have you sullying my sister’s first ball.”

Gerard smiled sharply. Lady Dorothy had just become significantly more interesting. Perhaps he had unfairly overlooked her over the years. Perhaps everyone had.

“You believe the word of gossips?” he asked.

“I do,” Lady Dorothy said. “I can think of no reason for why so many ladies should lie about you, so if they claim that you are a rake, you must be.”

“I see.”

“I am glad.”

“That does not mean that I disagree with your assessment,” Gerard said. “But let us say that I do, for argument’s sake.”

“Yes.”

“Rake or not, do you think it is wise to insult a duke?” Gerard asked, lowering his voice. “Some might say that you are ill-tempered, and it would be most unfortunate if such individuals were to assume that your sister also has a poor temperament.”

Lady Dorothy’s nostrils flared. “They would not assume that.”

“They would .” Gerard grinned. “Of course, there is also the matter of your own brother, who is known for his rakish ways.”

The lady’s eyes darted to the right. Gerard did not follow her gaze, but he suspected that she was seeking out her brother.

“You will appear to be a family of ill-tempered hypocrites,” Gerard continued. “How do you imagine that a lady from such a family would do on the marriage mart?”

“Well enough.” Lady Dorothy’s response was sharp and quick, but he saw the indecision in her eyes.

“I am only asking for a dance,” Gerard said, softening his voice. “You act as if I am requesting that your sister engage in some disreputable deed with me, but that is not the case at all.”

“I will dance with you,” Lady Bridget said suddenly, looking at her sister. “It is only a single dance, Dory.”

“A dance that people will see,” Lady Dorothy said.

“A single dance will not draw anyone’s notice,” Gerard countered.

In truth, he had already lost most interest in Lady Bridget. She was a rare flower, certainly, but his thoughts—fickle as they were—had already turned to the elder sister.

Who was this woman who felt like she could deny a duke ?

His palm ached. Gerard’s earlier fantasies of Lady Bridget soon took new shape.

He imagined pinning Lady Dorothy against the wall in some empty bedchamber.

The lady would gasp in scandalized self-righteousness as he lifted her skirts inch by agonizing inch.

“I will dance with you!” Lady Bridget exclaimed, glancing at her sister. “There is no need to continue arguing over the matter.”

He forced a smile. In a way, this was the most satisfying outcome. Lady Dorothy would be angry. Already, he saw the fierce blush spreading over her fine cheekbones.

Throughout the dance, her eyes would be on Lady Bridget and him. He would consume her thoughts. How thrilling!

“That is kind of you,” Gerard said, offering his hand.

His eyes remained fixed on Lady Dorothy’s face.

“One dance,” she said, displeasure evident in every syllable.

“Of course,” he said, feigning the most innocuous tone he could.

Gerard wondered what she would look like bent over the desk in his study, her breasts crushed against the unforgiving wooden surface and her skirts pulled up past her waist. He imagined her arguing with him and the punishment that he would, of course, dutifully administer.

It was only proper for a man to punish a disobedient lover.

Lady Bridget placed her hand in his, shattering his thoughts. “As it happens, a new dance is just beginning, Your Grace.”

“So it is.”

He led Lady Bridget to the dancefloor, his spirits jubilant. Was Lady Dorothy jealous ? He doubted it, but that would be delightful. Gerard wanted the spinster to burn when she thought of him. Even if she was determined to be a spinster, Gerard suspected that she still had passions.

How lovely it would be if those passions were directed towards him! The dance began.

Gerard put one hand on Lady Bridget’s waist. With his other hand, he held hers. “Thank you for the dance,” he said.

“It is my honor, Your Grace.”

“I am pleased to hear that.”

As they moved through the first steps of the waltz, he fought to keep his gaze on Lady Bridget’s face. There was no reason for him to look away, for she was an unquestionably beautiful lady, but Gerard found his attention wandering.

He wanted to look at Lady Dorothy. He wanted to see that lovely face pinched in anger and the blue eyes alight with fury.

“Your sister is rather protective of you,” he said.

“Indeed, she is,” Lady Bridget said. “But that is unsurprising.”

“Of course. Any sister would be protective of a beautiful, young lady like you.”

Lady Bridget gazed at him shyly from beneath her eyelashes. The dance brought them apart and together again.

“She is more protective than most,” she said. “After our parents died, Dorothy devoted her life to taking care of us. Misfortune has forced her to be mother and sister both to me.”

Gerard nodded sympathetically. He softened just a little. Although it had been a long time ago, he still recalled the devastation of his mother’s death and the weight of the grief left by her absence.

“I see,” he said.

It was admirable that Lady Dorothy would care so much for her sister, but he wondered who had been there to take care of her . Certainly, it was not the Duke of Reeds; he was known for being a soft-hearted man, and Gerard did not imagine that he had done much to rule over his sisters as he ought.

They spun. Gerard caught sight of billowing gowns, tailored suits, and?—

There was Lady Dorothy, her brother beside her, whispering into her ear. Was he the topic of conversation?

“Are you really a rake?” Lady Bridget asked.

Only a truly innocent lady would ask.

“Some have said so,” he replied. “Those rumors are grossly exaggerated, though.”

Lies. He was unquestionably a rake.

Was Lady Dorothy conspiring to free her sister from his grasp? Perhaps, she would offer herself to dance next. Heat flared in his core.

“I thought as much,” Lady Bridget said, sounding uncertain.

They spun again. He was prepared and fixed his gaze on the spot where Lady Dorothy had been just seconds earlier. The spinster turned away, leaving her brother. It was obvious that she was walking towards the balcony, intent on getting some air.

If he was fortunate, she might be alone. Gerard’s lips curled into a smile.

“Do not worry, my lady,” he said to Lady Bridget. “I have no ill intentions towards you.”