Page 10 of Duke of Wickedness (Regency Gods #4)

“ D avid! I’m so glad you could make it.”

Catherine crossed to him and clasped his hand warmly in both of hers, smiling brightly.

The Duchess of Seaton was a born hostess; she’d taken the energy she had once dedicated to being the consummate Society miss and had transformed it into being a masterful hostess, though not necessarily one that followed every Society rule to the letter.

Still, she was well within the constraints of what the ton would accept from a married lady—let alone a duchess who was connected to the Lightholder family—and therefore her entertainments were far afield of the kind of party that David tended to organize himself.

David still always attended, because watching Percy pretend to enjoy parties for the sole purpose of appeasing his wife was one of the greatest joys that he had yet to discover.

Insofar as one counted things that could be done with all of one’s clothes firmly in place, at least.

“Of course,” he said, smiling. “I would never miss one of your parties, Catherine.”

“Because you live to bedevil Percy,” she said, her hostess smile not budging an inch.

“It’s very important to have hobbies,” he said. “Keeps a man young.”

“Oh, yes,” she said with an air that he felt was unfairly maternal, given that he was older than she was, “I’m certain that bothering my husband is the most chaos you like to make for yourself.”

He gave her his most innocent expression, which only made her laugh.

“Go off to bother Percy, then,” she said, shooing him away. “I have guests to greet.”

Agreeably, David went off—not because she’d told him to, necessarily, but because bothering Percy was a personal passion of his.

He was distracted, however, by the arrival of a far more interesting—and far more recent passion.

Ariadne Lightholder was here.

Admittedly, this may have been one of the reasons that David had been particularly excited to come this evening. He could annoy Percy any day.

But it was a rare treat to get under the skin of Lady Ariadne.

He loitered near the entrance to the parlor where he knew, from his frequent visits to the house, they would begin with drinks before moving in to dinner.

Catherine didn’t follow strict rules about hierarchical seating at dinner—a tiny rebellion against rules about which she was adorably proud—so, if David played his cards right, he might get himself close to Lady Ariadne for the entirety of their meal.

It was the most deliciously intriguing proposition.

He saw the moment she felt his eyes upon her. Her shoulders stiffened just the tiniest bit, and she angled herself halfway toward him, though she didn’t turn all the way before she resumed her conversation with Catherine and the Duke and Duchess of Godwin, with whom she’d come in.

He watched and waited, curious to see what she would do. He wasn’t going to pressure her, obviously; the foremost quality he needed in a partner, whether in a flirtation or more, was their willingness, openly given. He did not want Ariadne if she did not want him back.

But the eagerness with which she’d responded to his kiss—that hadn’t been a lie. That hadn’t been coerced. They had been on her terrain, and he’d given her every opportunity to withdraw.

But she was curious. And if willingness was what he needed before pursuing someone, then curiosity was the thing that set him aflame.

But her move came next. He waited and watched, watched and waited.

And it didn’t take her very long at all to make a move.

When the guests—perhaps a dozen, all told—had all arrived, and Catherine began ushering them all toward the parlor, Lady Ariadne came up to him, plain as day.

She wore a placid, proper expression—to the untrained eye, she was just a young lady chatting pleasantly with a gentleman at a friendly dinner party.

But he was already becoming an expert, where she was concerned. And her eyes sparked with something more.

Temper. Irritation. Excitement. Amusement.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said. “Are you feeling all right this evening?”

And what an opening line! He was practically giddy with eagerness to see what she might say next.

“Indeed, I am,” he said, beaming at her. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been staring,” she said, sweet as sugar. “I thought perhaps you had something in your eye. Or maybe you have mastered the ability to sleep while standing, with your eyes open. If you haven’t been sleeping well, I can recommend a good physician.”

“Oh, I sleep marvelously,” he said. “In fact, I’ve had the loveliest dreams recently. All about a beautiful woman with the most curious mind. You see, we’re in a garden…” He trailed off. “Well, I shan’t bore you with the details.”

She gave him a disapproving frown, but again, her eyes told the truth; they sparked. He still didn’t know what she planned to do about his offer, but she did like the idea that he had been thinking about her.

“Your Grace, is that flirtation?” she demanded.

“Do you want it to be?”

Her expression cracked, a flicker of a smile breaking through.

“No,” she lied. “In fact, I must insist that you stop. For the sake of both our reputations.”

“Oh, come along now, my lady,” he said chidingly. “My reputation would be diminished if I didn’t flirt with you.”

Her lips pressed together. David had been to bacchanals less satisfying than this one moment spent watching Lady Ariadne Lightholder try not to smile.

“You’re incorrigible,” she accused.

“That’s more like it,” he praised. “Be sure to spread the word. It’s the least you can do after doubting me so. Only through your hard work might my reputation be restored.”

That got an eye roll. It was even better than the half-smile.

Suddenly, David found that he could wait no longer. He needed to know.

“Have you thought about my offer?” He pitched his voice lower.

Teasing aside, he did not intend to compromise Ariadne’s reputation.

This party was relatively safe, populated as it was by people who knew the Lightholder family, but still.

He wanted to reward her curiosity, not turn it into a liability.

Her eyes darted to the side.

“Not at all,” she said.

“Goodness, you are the most terrible liar,” he said, utterly charmed. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No.”

“Another lie! You do see the flaw in this system, don’t you?”

“Goodness, you are the most annoying man,” she mimicked. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“So very many people,” he said. “Now, about that offer…”

She raised her chin petulantly. “I will have you know,” she said in a highly missish tone, “that I have begun educating myself on such matters. So I shan’t be needing assistance after all.”

If she had intended the comment to put him off, she had chosen a very poor strategy.

“Oh?” he asked.

Her eyes went wide as she realized what she’d confessed.

“Not—not with another man ,” she said hastily. “I just meant—it’s a—a personal education.”

“You must know this is not making me less intrigued,” he told her.

Her blush made her blue eyes seem even brighter.

It tempted him into pushing her just a little bit further. He furtively glanced around. Just about everyone had already progressed into the parlor; there was nobody here to see him as he leaned in close enough that he could see gooseflesh rippling down her neck when his breath touched her.

“Tell me, Ariadne,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “What is it that you think about when you touch yourself?”

She reared back, looking at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “When I what?”

Oh, she was so innocent. And yet she had such a natural inclination for the pleasurable things in life—he’d seen it when he’d kissed her, and he could see it now. She didn’t even know what he was talking about, not exactly, but she wanted to know.

He wanted her to have that.

And, yes, he wanted to help her have that—he wasn’t a bloody saint. He wouldn’t exactly be suffering nobly if she let him guide her through her foray into self-discovery.

But he was capable of restraint.

More to the point, he needed to show some restraint before he gave the entire bloody dinner party a show that said all too clearly how intriguing he found Lady Ariadne Lightholder.

He couldn’t resist one last parting volley, however.

“Tell you what,” he said, reaching up to touch one fingertip under her chin, just long enough to tilt her eyes up to his. “Try it. Tonight. Explore what feels right to you. Think about how it is just the tiniest taste of the pleasure I can show you.”

He let his hand drop, then stepped away.

“And then,” he said, “ then you can let me know what you want to do about my offer.”