Page 12 of A Gamble on the Duke (The Gambling Dukes #4)

I had been careful, but it had not been enough. My balance had overtipped and I had somehow managed to step on my own hem, and I was falling, falling to the ground which thanks to my epic curtsey had not actually been that far away?—

Until I wasn’t.

Until a strong hand had reached out and grasped me.

Until I had been pulled up to a standing position and held in the strongest arms I had ever felt.

“I am trying to teach you manners,” the Duke of Kineallen murmured softly, his face only a few inches from my own. “How am I supposed to do that if you insist on falling over…Catherine?”

I swallowed. “I did not do it on purpose?—”

“Didn’t you?” whispered the Duke of Kineallen.

My breathing was shallow and my arms were burning where his hands touched me, and yet I did not wish for him to let go.

No, though it hurt, I could not help but enjoy it. I enjoyed being this close to him, enjoyed hearing my name on his lips. Was that so very wrong? Was it possible that I was caring slightly too much for this gambling duke?

“Doesn’t it drive you wild?” I whispered, unable to help myself.

Something flared in his gaze, something I did not recognize. It was not desire, but it wasn’t far from it. Need, perhaps?

“Wild?” he repeated under his breath.

“Having to be this controlled all the time,” I said, my gaze flickering between his eyes, so brilliant, so intelligent, and his lips, so kissable, so terribly close. “So restrained, so measured in your words and your actions.”

“It is how I was raised. It is who I am?—”

“Not all the time, surely,” I cut in, desperate to hear him say my name again but unsure how to provoke him—knowing that I should not. “A curtsey here, a bow there—do you not wish to scream at all sometimes, the rigor you must put yourself to?—”

“I knew that if I wanted to be successful—if I wanted the duchy of Kineallen to be a success, then I would have to exert control over myself,” the Duke of Kineallen said quietly, his voice a low murmur that rippled through me.

“There have been times in my life when I have lost that control and…and it did not go well.”

I swallowed.

I could well believe that.

Oh, not that it did not go well. The Duke of Kineallen was a man who had clearly had a charmed life—a life like I had never known. My father had been poor and my mother had been made poor by marrying him…but they had been happy.

The Duke of Kineallen did not look happy.

But he did not look unhappy either, standing mere inches before me and leaning—was he leaning? Wait, was I the one leaning?

And then he had stepped back and had turned away from me. “It appears, Miss Shenton…Catherine, that you are in no need of further lessons.”

I could have melted right there on the spot. Teach me. “Lessons?”

“Yes, you appear to have a generalized understanding of the expectations on a lady like yourself,” the Duke of Kineallen said lightly, opening the door to the study. “I must examine some ledgers for some wagers which have come in from new members.”

“Members?”

Was my head spinning, or was it the damned room?

The Duke of Kineallen leaned against the doorway and looked the absolute picture of perfection. “Members of the Gambling Dukes, Catherine. The whole reason that you are here—to convince the Earl of Tuxford and the Viscount Kirekwall, amongst others, to join us.”

I nodded vaguely as my head span. Yes, that was why I was here—not to seduce dukes, or kiss them senseless, or be kissed by them senseless.

No other reason.

Kineallen

She was doing it on purpose, wasn’t she?

The minx. Standing there, after she’d fallen into my arms?—

Fine, I hadn’t had to catch her. But what sort of a man was I, to allow a lady to fall to the ground?

I leaned against the doorway to my study and forced myself not to step forward, crush the woman into my arms, and show her just how obedient I wanted her.

“Members of the Gambling Dukes, Catherine. The whole reason that you are here—to convince the Earl of Tuxford and the Viscount Kirekwall, amongst others, to join us.”

It was a lie. But it was a very good lie.

What, was I supposed to tell her the truth? Admit to her that whenever I was around her, all the defenses that I have worked so hard to put up around me seemed to crumble down?

Reveal to her that with every day that she stayed in my presence, the memories of Olivia were fading?

Confess to her that all I wanted was her lips on mine, her body quivering under my touch.

Hell no.

“This Gambling Dukes club. It means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?” Much against my expectations—though perhaps not against my wishes—Catherine had followed me into the study which before now, she’d never stepped into.

I inhaled rapidly as she shut the door behind her.

It was stifling, somehow, having her here.

Stifling, and freeing.

“Yes, the Gambling Dukes means a huge amount to me,” I said stiffly, moving behind my desk as though that could act as a barrier for me.

As protection.

Who was I fooling? I didn’t want to be protected from Catherine.

I wanted her to be protected from me.

“Why? If you do not mind me asking, Kineallen,” she asked brightly, dropping onto the armchair opposite the window which was where I sat to think.

My jaw tightened.

I did mind her asking. That was, I would have minded, if she had not used my name.

Kineallen.

My friends called me that. The utterance of those syllables should not make my whole body stiffen.

Well. Some parts of it more than others.

“I…it…the Gambling Dukes,” I began, hating myself for being unable to speak coherently.

But that was the trouble. The Gambling Dukes had become such a core part of my life, it was hard to understand who I was without it. Without them.

“You and your friends founded it together, I think,” Catherine said curiously, tucking her feet under her knees as she curled up in the armchair. “The four of you.”

A smile broke across my lips as I thought of them. “Yes. Four of us. All widowed.”

There was a spark of surprise there .

“You did not know?”

“I…well. I knew that the duchesses were widows…and they are all married now.”

“Yes. They are.” Try as I might, I could not keep the tinge of disappointment from my voice. All I could do was hope that Miss Shenton…that Catherine had not noticed.

Her eyebrows rose. “And you resent that.”

Blast.

“Not exactly. It is complicated—we were drawn together by our losses, and our mutual connections.” I blew out slowly. Strange, how difficult it was to speak of this, even as my affections for Olivia…

They were not fading, it was not that. It was more that I was starting to realize that what I had felt for her was love, but it was a puppy love. The obsessive love one felt at one and twenty.

I was nine and twenty now, and what I felt for Miss Catherine Shenton…

It was not puppy love.

“But why found the Gambling Dukes at all, that’s what I don’t understand,” Catherine said reasonably, her eyes artless. “I mean, you must all have been fabulously wealthy.”

My laugh was more of a bark than an indication of mirth.

“Ah. Perhaps not.”

“Perhaps not indeed. Poor old Markham’s father had speculated badly on a supposed gold mine in the New World,” I said lightly, choosing not to go into further details.

“Georgiana’s first husband was a rogue of a previous generation—much older than us.

Older than her parents. He had entailed his property to his son from his first marriage, there was almost no dower portion for her at all. ”

When I looked up, it was to see shock and surprise—but understanding in her eyes. “My grandfather’s property was so entailed.”

It was all I could do not to smile. Yes, I supposed it affected people from all ranks and classes…

though I doubted whether losing a small cottage with perhaps an acre of land could be compared to Georgiana losing what she had presumed she would be entitled to; the Dowager House, two hundred acres, and an income of two thousand a year.

“Lilah had a little money put by, she was sharp. Her husband had little interest in her and when he died, had forgotten to update his will,” I said quietly with a wry smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed,” I said, trying not to smile.

It was not a smiling matter. Lilah had spent at least three weeks being rather bereft—but the trouble was, I was recounting the tale looking at Catherine.

And it was difficult not to smile when looking at Catherine.

“And yourself?” Her curiosity was not being hidden now, not in any way. “It sounds like all three of your friends were in need of funds, I can see how forming a gambling club would make sense for them. But you?”

Me?

My pulse throbbed in my temple. I did not tell my tale. I had never—I mean, my three friends knew of it. But I had never discussed it with them.

Never discussed it with anyone.

When I glanced back over at Catherine, it was to see that her warm smile was full of something that I had not expected.

Understanding.

“You do not have to tell me, you know,” she said quietly. “ I know you have taken a gamble on me. Bringing me into your home, I mean. Your life. You owe me no further information.”

Something swelled within me.

I did not owe her that information. And yet somehow, I knew I wished to share it.

“When I inherited…no, I must go further back.” I leaned against my chair and wished to goodness I could think around this woman.

“My grandfather was a spendthrift. Not gambling, not investments—either of those I could forgive. No, he spent liberally on his friends, and with every guinea that passed through his hands, he somehow managed to gain more friends.”

“Oh dear,” said Catherine, her brow puckering. “That is most unfortunate.”

“My father attempted to restrain him—restrain the spending at least.” It was all I could do not to shake my head. “My grandfather did not take it well. My father was cut off.”

“Cut off? But all he was trying to do was help your?—”

“I know,” I said heavily. “But Kineallen men are not particularly good at being helped.”