Page 27 of Her Temporary Duke (Rakes and Roses #2)

L adies and gentlemen seemed to fill the pavement outside the Royal Theater at Drury Lane.

Uniformed doormen stood beside the open doors, holding them open for the theatergoers beginning to file into the building.

The carriage bearing Charlotte and Seth came to a halt, and several heads turned to observe the latest arrivals.

Seth alighted first, wearing black, gray, and navy blue.

His fair hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and he looked every inch the Nordic prince.

He opened the door for Charlotte, then held out his hand to her. His eyes met and held hers, and a smile played on his lips. Charlotte did not look away from him but was also conscious of the eyes of those who still mingled outside the theater.

So, this is what Amelia experienced in her daily life? It is not unpleasant to be so noticed.

She alighted, and Seth swept her a courtly bow and kissed her hand. His smile said that he was reveling in their public status. She took his arm, and they turned. Charlotte acknowledged smiles and nods as they moved towards the entrance.

“I feel as though they are here for me,” she whispered to Seth, “too much of this will go to my head.”

“They should be here for you. Amelia is well known in the ton, as am I, though for different reasons. But they should all be here to pay homage to you, Charlotte.”

He was not speaking loudly enough to be heard by any but Charlotte, and was barely moving his lips, but Charlotte looked around anyway, trying to see if anyone could have overheard.

“It is somewhat alluring. To be the center of attention for so many. One would think, too much would be corrosive to one’s moral compass.”

Seth nodded in thought. “Very astute. Celebrity corrupts absolutely.”

The pair entered the foyer, greeted by an elderly couple dressed finely in gold-embroidered cloth.

“Ah! Lady Nightingale,” boomed the man with a Roman nose that stood out from his otherwise small-featured face like an obelisk. “I see you have finally tamed this reprobate. He is becoming quite respectable under your influence.”

“ Charles !” his wife reprimanded in hushed tones, “do not be discourteous. You were young once, too, and far from respectable as I recall.”

She had a pile of gray hair atop her head and a painted beauty spot on skin dusted white to conceal wrinkles. Charlotte did not know who they were, but Seth had briefed her on the principal ladies and gentlemen whom Amelia would be expected to know.

“Your Graces,” she said with a demure smile, “you compliment me beyond my achievements. His Grace, the Duke of Bellmonte, is refined and charming.”

“I was merely stretching my legs for a time after the confinement of Hillcrest,” Seth cut in, discarding the compliments utterly, “experiencing the world.”

The man, whom Charlotte recognized as the Duke of Canterbury, guffawed loudly.

“Your Grace must tell me where you have your dresses made. This is simply stunning,” Charlotte beamed to the Duchess, who looked all the more flattered.

“Suttons at Leicester Square provide all of my gowns,” the Duchess replied with pride.

“I must patronize Mr. Sutton’s establishment then,” Charlotte commented.

“Indeed. A novel idea to wear one’s wealth on one’s clothing rather than in a purse,” Seth finished with a mischievous grin.

A few weeks earlier, the remark would have led Charlotte on a one-way path to incense, seeing it as a slight on her sister’s reputation.

But now, she suppressed a smile as she glanced at her supposed betrothed.

There was the light of mirth in his eyes, which gave his face a boyish quality. She patted his arm.

“Oh, capital, capital!” the Duke enthused after missing a beat, earning him a humorous look from his wife. “I did not have you pegged as a card, Bellmonte. You and your betrothed must join us for bridge one night. We are not averse to some satirical humor, are we, dear?”

The Duchess leaned in conspiratorially. “I avow that we are very modern in our outlook.”

“Then we shall look forward to the invitation. I love a hand of bridge,” Charlotte replied, smiling warmly.

They moved on.

“You play bridge?” Seth murmured once they were out of earshot.

She gave him a sidelong look. “Not in the slightest. I was hoping you’d teach me.”

He grinned. “Cards are my natural domain. If there is a wager involved, I am practically a scholar.”

“Then I’ll expect an intensive education.”

His eyes remained fixed forward. “Oh, it will be rigorous. Intrusive. And entirely in private.” His tone was low and velvet-dark—it sent a flush straight to her cheeks. And that insufferably devilish smirk returned.

They crossed into a lobby, past a flurry of silk and perfume. He paused, then tilted his chin to a man with red hair who stood alone on the far side of the foyer and seemed to be watching the gathered theater-goers with interest.

“Do you see that man? I have come to know him by sight. He is a journalist who writes for some of London’s most salacious scandal sheets. And he has no doubt glimpsed us.”

“From the perspective of our subterfuge, is that a good or bad development?” Charlotte asked.

“ Grand . It means the ton shall deem us officially as a couple. Less suspicions, fewer gossiping.”

They moved on towards the auditorium. Seth produced the tickets and showed them to a uniformed footman, who directed them to the corridor leading to the boxes.

They stopped at a door marked with the name Bellmonte.

Beyond was a short flight of stairs that led to a box in prime position overlooking the stage.

As they entered, Seth pulled the chairs back.

She frowned. “I may be compelled to feel insulted. I am hardly a giantess, how will I see?”

He winked. “Perfect. I do not care to be observed too much. Everyone looks up to see who has the boxes. Once the performance starts, they will be focused on the stage. It shall provide us with such much-needed privacy.”

Charlotte sat, musing. “You are far too practiced at that, I daresay. As if I am not the first woman you have brought here. Do many of your lady friends enjoy the theater?”

Seth fell into the seat beside her, swiveling, chin propped on his fist. “I am sure many do, but you are the first to accompany me here. I must confess, I have not been the greatest patron of the arts.”

Charlotte interlaced her fingers with his, and he drew her hand in for a kiss.

“I do enjoy the notion of privacy amid a crowd. It can feel rather... exhilarating.”

“Isn’t it just?” He breathed, taking another kiss, savoring her perfume.

Her face lit up then. “Ah, speaking of crowds. Last night, I was thinking it was a shame that such a grand old house as Hillcrest should be left to go to ruin. Could you not hold a ball there? It would show your willingness to become a respectable man.”

He twirled her palm in his hands, kissing her wrist. “Whatever gave you the impression I care to be a respectable man?”

She let her eyes slip shut. “The question should be… surely… do I want you to be a respectable man?”

“Is this Amelia or Charlotte speaking?” he arched a brow.

“Charlotte...”

“If Charlotte wishes it, then I wish it,” he murmured, feathering kisses up her forearm.

She giggled softly, eyelids fluttering open. “That is a charming thing to say, but so easy as just words. I imagine every rake to have ever lived has uttered something similar when complementing their seduction,” she remarked, drawing back her hand from his grasp.

The briefest glimpse of absolute despondency that crossed his face made her almost regret her actions. “True,” he sighed, “and I have said it many times myself. But never meant it.”

“And how do I know that you mean it now?”

Charlotte felt her heart thrumming. She had discussed flirtation with Lucy, her maid, and in the briefest of correspondences with Amelia, but had never truly put it into practice.

I could never understand how from what Amelia described. It was as a foreign language to me. Now… I see the how .

“Are you setting me a challenge, Lady Charlotte?” he asked with unflinching resolution.

His uttering of her name was soft, almost sibilant. It was intensely exciting, like he had lingered over the syllables, caressing them with his tongue. It almost felt as good as the actual touch of his tongue against her skin.

“Prove yourself worthy,” she murmured and glimpsed the widening of his eyes, a telltale sign of his own arousal.

She bit her lip, feeling her breathing become ragged with excitement.

Seth looked at her flatly for a long moment. Then he grinned. It was a smile of wild abandon, the smile of a rogue—or a lunatic. Suddenly, he was on his feet. In one bound, he had leaped onto the balustrade separating the box from the rest of the auditorium. He spread his arms wide.

“My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention momentarily before this fine company of players takes the stage. I want to announce that a ball will take place at Hillcrest before the end of the month. And you are all invited!”

Charlotte clapped her hands to her mouth, laughing in both intense astonishment and delight. From below, there came some cheers and a smattering of applause. There were also gasps and the rumble of astonished, murmured conversation. Seth leaped back into the box.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well? Well? Well, I think you have given us a short amount of time to whip your home into shape. Staff will be needed, and the house will need to be cleaned, dusted, and aired,” she began listing off.

He resumed his seat, looking somewhat crestfallen.

“Ah, that would be entailed in hosting a ball, wouldn’t it? I had not considered that.”

“Fortunately, I am well-versed in the art of organization! I helped my Uncle with the management of his household and estate, modest as it was, back in Yorkshire. I can apply the same expertise to Hillcrest.”

“And all of the ton will see us as a couple,” Seth grinned, taking her hand once more.

“Which is what you want?” she asked.

“Of course, why do you doubt it?”

“Because you have not always seemed to desire it.”

“But that was before I realized how different you are from your sister. Before I knew that she wanted to marry someone else, freeing me to make my own choice.”

Seth’s earnest look soothed Charlotte’s heart. At the oddest times, she wondered if Seth would run the moment he fulfilled his father’s will’s marriage clause.

Once Amelia publicly confirms she wishes to be freed of her obligation to him, he might still drop me and return to his life as a rake—free as a bird.

“I once thought that the goal of my life was to be free. To be beholden to no one. It was what I yearned for as I chafed under the chains I lived in under my father’s rule. He controlled who I saw and spoke to, what I did, and where I went. Everything.”

“And once Amelia comes forward, you will have your freedom again,” she whispered.

“Though I do not despise this particular form of freedom that I have been afforded as of late.” Seth put his arms around her waist and drew her from the chair.

The box was carpeted, the pile thick and plush.

It was soft and warm beneath Charlotte. She glanced up at her lover and marveled at the word.

Seth kissed her, caressing her breasts gently but with a strong touch.

Charlotte put her arms around him, wanting to touch his body and feel it pressed against hers.

There were a couple of hundred people gathering in the auditorium just a few paces below where she lay.

They might be overheard. Or caught in the act by a servant.

The very idea sent blood rushing to her head, making her giddy with desire.