Page 16 of A Duke But No Gentleman (Masters of Seduction #1)

Chapter Nine

Days earlier, she had been disappointed by Lord Norgrave and the Duke of Blackbern’s absence.

Now she wished they would find another lady to tease and play their wicked games.

The marquess left his card two days in a row with Sandwick, when their butler had told him that Lady Imogene wasn’t receiving visitors.

The duke had also left his card with the promise that he would call on her this afternoon.

On the back of his card, he had scrawled in his distinctive handwriting:

You cannot avoid me forever.

—B

Blackbern would be astounded what she was capable of when she was annoyed.

It was precisely the reason why she had accepted the invitation to join her friends on a picnic.

No one with the Blackbern or Norgrave titles had been invited.

She had made inquiries in advance. After being manipulated into kissing both men, she came to the realization that she lacked the sophistication to be much of a challenge for such jaded gentlemen.

Unless they coveted her because she was a daughter of a duke. An alliance with her family would be prized, she thought. However, her mother was convinced that marriage was not what interested the duke and his friend.

Imogene was determined to banish both gentlemen from her thoughts.

“Lady Imogene,” Lord Asher called out, distracting her from her dour musings. “I would be honored if you would walk with me.”

Her friend Cassia nudged her when she failed to immediately respond to his invitation.

She had been sitting on a blanket with Cassia, Miss Faston, and two other ladies.

Lord Asher had accompanied the recently married Mr. and Mrs. Hewitt.

Cassia viewed the earl’s efforts as dreadfully romantic, and she predicted the gentleman would declare his intentions to Imogene’s father in the near future.

Lord Asher was clumsy around her, but he was courteous, intelligent, and the consummate gentleman.

The thought would never occur to him to drag her off in a scandalous manner and then kiss her senseless.

Imogene frowned. Some hours, she truly despised the Duke of Blackbern. When she reached the point that she could hold on to her hate for an entire day, she would finally be cured of him. And Lord Norgrave, too, she silently added. His kisses were not as devastating, but he was equally dangerous.

“Imogene,” Cassia whispered.

She shook her head and smiled at the earl.

“Forgive me, Lord Asher. Of course I would love to join you. A stroll will shake off the lingering lethargy of our meal.” She offered her hand and he rushed forward to assist her.

The toe of one of his shoes caught the edge of the blanket and the poor man lost his balance.

Several ladies shrieked in dismay as he fell and landed on Miss Faston.

“Good heavens!” Imogene exclaimed as she and Cassia grabbed the humiliated earl and struggled to help him to his feet. Lord Asher and his unfortunate victim were not helping matters by flailing about. “Miss Faston, are you hurt?”

“No harm done,” the lady wheezed. “My lord, if you could just remove your elbow from my middle.”

Imogene watched in fascination as Lord Asher’s face deepened into a dark red hue.

“I do beg your pardon,” he rasped, struggling to free himself from the awkward tangle of limbs. “Lady Imogene and Miss Mead, if you could release my arms, I may actually be able to do more than flop about like a fish.”

She and Cassia dropped his arms as if they had been stung.

Masculine laughter drifted behind her. Imogene’s eyelids narrowed into slits. She recognized that voice.

Blackbern.

Imogene cocked her head to the side so she could glare at him. “Why do you not be useful for a change and help us, Your Grace?”

Everyone froze at her waspish tone. She supposed it was highly disrespectful for her to order the duke about like a footman, but he deserved it for chasing after her as if he was pursuing a fox on a hunt.

The duke greeted her anger with his usual aplomb. “Not sleeping well, darling, or is it your monthlies?”

“You fiend!” Imogene shouted, too vexed to be polite. She stepped away from the duke before she threw something at him.

“If I was a betting man, I would wager it was her monthlies.” Blackbern braced his hands on his knees as he crouched down.

He sent an apologetic glance to Miss Faston.

“I beg your pardon, dear lady. Your patience is about to be rewarded.” He seized the earl and effortlessly hauled him off the blanket.

“Let me guess what happened. You were distracted by Lady Imogene’s smile. ”

“Something like that,” Lord Asher muttered, refusing to look at anyone.

Imogene could sympathize with the gentleman. She was appalled that the duke had humiliated her in front of her friends and Lord Asher, not to mention the false intimacy he inferred discussing personal matters such as her monthlies.

As if he had the right to know!

Blackbern was kind enough to assist Miss Faston to her feet. She stiffened when he glanced in her direction. “Come along, Imogene. You have caused enough mischief for the afternoon.”

“Me?” Imogene took a step back. Everyone was watching her and the duke as if they were players on a stage. “I was attempting to help.”

“You might begin by scrubbing a little soot on your cheeks or perhaps consider wearing a sack over your head when you are strolling about in public. Your beauty is giving us mortal men heart failure, and casts other ladies in an unflattering light.”

“Hear, hear,” mumbled Miss Faston.

“Miss Faston,” Imogene exclaimed, dismayed that she had lost an ally. “Do not encourage him.”

Blackbern thinks I am beautiful?

The woman shook her head. “I have the right to complain since Lord Asher failed to see me until he actually fell on me like a mighty oak tree.”

“Permit me to apologize again for my clumsiness,” Lord Asher said, recovering some of his dignity when Miss Faston complimented his impressive physique.

“Bid your friends farewell, my goddess,” Blackbern said, capturing her wrist as if he expected her to cause him more trouble. “We have an appointment to keep.”

Cassia was the only one who appeared uncertain about leaving Imogene to the duke’s tender mercies. “What should I tell your mother?”

“Tell her nothing.” The distance between her and her companions was widening with each step. “I will explain everything.”

Blackbern had the audacity to laugh. “Not very skilled at lying, are you?” Without asking her permission, he lifted her into his carriage. “If you need a tutor, I am available. I am well versed in this particular art.”

“I will pass on your offer,” Imogene said, rearranging her skirt.

“You might be amazed what I can teach you,” was the duke’s enigmatic reply. The carriage dipped as he settled in beside her. “I know I am curious to see how brave you are.”

***

His challenge had managed to silence Imogene.

She was still angry, her posture seemed to convey her defiance and contempt toward him for sins real and imaginary.

Tristan had never found troublesome chits appealing, but there was something about Imogene that made him want to ruffle her sleek feathers.

He wondered what would happen if he taught her to channel her outrage into passion.

The results might be worth facing the dragon’s wrath.

It was obvious Imogene had inherited her fierce temper from her mother.

Their companionable quiet lasted ten minutes.

“I am not talking to you.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and offered no opinion.

She huffed and muttered under her breath. “I cannot believe you speculated on my monthlies.” Her lower lip quivered as if she was contemplating to sulk about it the entire drive.

To spare himself the grief, he said, “In my experience—”

“As far as I know, you do not have a mother, sister, or wife,” she said, tapping her fingers as if each one was important. “Do not presume to share your opinion on the subject because any knowledge you possess likely came from other gentlemen.”

Her uncharacteristic bluntness hit close enough to the mark for him to wince, but she had forgotten another sort of female—a mistress.

Since there was no benefit to winning the argument, he held his tongue.

However, there were other ways to bait his prickly companion.

“So was I correct? Is that why you were so angry with me?”

“The subject is not open for discussion,” she said in forbidding tones. “As for the reason why I was angry… you embarrassed me in front of my friends. You spoke to me as if we were—we were—” She audibly swallowed and shook her head.

Her shy, awkward manner disarmed him. His expression softened as he took pity on her. “I implied a certain intimacy.”

Instead of pouting, she nibbled on her lower lip. “That we are lovers? Yes. It was cruel of you and it was wrong to give them a false impression about our friendship.”

“Why do you assume it is false?” he softly countered, tugging on the reins to slow his horses.

Securing the reins, he turned until his knees brushed against her skirt.

“I am beguiled, my lady.” He allowed her a minute to ponder his declaration.

“If given the slightest encouragement, I would seize it. I would tutor you in the carnal arts, and we would become intimate. Lovers. I could show you a side of your nature you have been forced to bind with whalebone and layers of linen and silk. I would show you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, drugging your senses with my lips, my fingers, and my cock.”

Her cheeks turned pink at his frank language. “You are not supposed to speak to me like this.” She was only beginning to comprehend what he had sensed from their first meeting.

“Why? I am offering you a glimpse of the future. It is your choice.”

It won’t be if Norgrave has it his way.