Page 21 of The Duke is Wicked
And a crackling hearthfire Delaney guessed the duke had lit with his mind.
The space was relaxedandoff-putting, like its residing duke.
As if he’d sensed her skulking in the doorway, Sebastian slipped his watch from his waistcoat pocket, then gave her a sardonic side-look. He was dressed for the country in buckskin trousers tucked into a pair of lovingly polished boots, a tweed coat casing his broad shoulders, his cravat looped around his neck just so. Neither fastidious nor careless. He’d run his fingers through his hair from the rumpled look of it, a valet’s disaster and a woman’s dream.
While she looked like a poor country cousin come to call. Grousing beneath her breath, she shoved off the doorjamb, watching a ghost of a smile, hidden to everyone but her, tilt the corners of his mouth.
“Tremont.” She slipped into the empty chair by him. There was one free next to her brother, but she would take this challenge and show the arrogant duke how little he concerned her.
“Temple,” he returned, their cheeky salutations halting the conversation like someone had pitched a glass against the wall.
“You met most everyone during my illness, I believe, so we’ll be casual,” Sebastian said between bites of toast layered with orange marmalade. “Julian, Viscount Beauchamp. His brothers, Finn and Simon. Friend of all, Humphrey. Victoria, Finn’s wife. We’ll proffer the newer introductions while seated, since we’re seated. Thirty minutes ago, actually.” He pointed his toast down the table. “Piper Alexander, Viscountess Beauchamp, is three chairs to your right. Another Yank. Or half, at least. Lucky you.”
Shocked, Delaney leaned forward as the fetching woman seated next to Julian did the same. Piper waved with her butter knife, a gesture Delaney returned with her spoon, feeling foolish, which the imposing duke wanted her to feel.
“Finn’s sister, Isabelle Laurent, better known as Belle, directly across from her brother.”
Delaney glanced at the attractive woman, who smiled back shyly. She would have pegged them as siblings any day of the week. No two could have eyes that color and not be related.
A footman slid a heaping plate before her, and Delaney glanced at Sebastian to make sure he wasn’t watching before she dug in. Her manners were likely not on par with theton’slofty expectations.
“Seated next to your brother is Lady Honoria Hazelton, daughter of the Earl of Annesley, a guest of the viscount and viscountess.” This said in a softer, reluctant tone.
“Oh, we met. And now I want everyone to call me Kitty,” Honoria announced in an animated flutter of crimson silk. “Miss Temple helped me arrive at the name during our wonderful discussion on the terrace last eve, and I quite like it. Rather upsetting, the night, as I had the flickering problem again, but her convivial friendship dispelled my unease. She took my hand and kept me from floating away. I felt positively championed.”
Sebastian released a tiny puff through his nose and tilted his head just enough to catch her gaze, likely astonished she’d had any contact with his almost-maybe intended.Kitty, he mouthed and rolled his eyes.
As if a duke needed aKitty.
It was a horrible time to note, once again, that his eyelashes were longer than any man’s should be.
“I love the name to bits.” Honoria’s gaze roamed the length of the table when no one promptly agreed that the sobriquet was a stellar one. “Then she gave me a fascinating tour of the manor. I declare she knows more about this fetid, old castle than you do, Your Grace. Who would care to learn so much about amoat? She said she found a riveting book in your library when I didn’t even know you had one. A library, that is. Not a moat.”
Sebastian’s elbow brushed hers as he shifted his long body in his chair, sending a shiver through her and making the egg in her mouth taste like the dust covering her person. “Is that so? Amazing that you found the time, as we’d just arrived ourselves.”
Case choked on his coffee. “She studied up. Such anticipation of staying in a, um, a castle.”
Delaney slid her teacup to her saucer with a sigh. The table’s attention, except for the oblivious Honoria Kitty Hazelton, had shifted her way. Julian Alexander looked especially intrigued.
Sebastian brushed his napkin across his lips as if he hadn’t a concern in the world. “Would you care to tell us on what page the dungeon is described?”
It was one of those moments in life where you decide to fight or flee. There wasn’t anything to hide, or at least, there wasn’t anything to hide for much longer. And Delaney wasn’t a quitter. Closing her eyes, she went to step into her attic, but for the first time, the door wouldn’t open. “Someone’s closing me out.” She pounded until her fist throbbed, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Temple,stop.”
She blinked to find everyone turned her way, mixed expressions of fascination and concern. Even Kitty looked shocked. Maybe because Sebastian’s hand was wrapped around Delaney’s wrist, his thumb pressing over her hammering pulse. Neither of them wore gloves, and the contact, at least to her, was devastating. He smelled like leather and earth and summer. He’d been riding before breakfast, she decided, arousal swimming through her veins.
“Down girl,” he whispered, for her alone, that glorious hair of his flopping negligently across his brow. Talking to her like she was one of his blastedhounds.
Or maybe he was smarter than she gave him credit for, chiding, when he knew his comment would vex her enough to bring welcome air shooting into her lungs.
“Victoria blocks again.” Finn saluted with his teacup from the end of the table. “Bloody impressive, darling.”
Victoria worried her lip between her teeth. “Blocking doesn’t feel good the first time.”
Delaney’s fury flared like one of Sebastian’s blazes, a sluggish crawl from her feet to her brain. They were all in on this, a family, a unit, she and her brother outsiders. She didn’t want a gift, didn’thavea gift as powerful, as weighty, as theirs. They had nothing in common, aside from an unknown person who wanted information in exchange for silence.
The wretched part of it?