Page 4 of The One With the Scoundrel of a Duke (Wicked Widows’ League #31)

I T HAD BEEN A long day, and it wasn’t even over yet. The wedding reception was going to start in a few hours. In the meantime, Audra lay sprawled out on her bed to re-energize herself from all the earlier events.

Freya had fled from her wedding, and they were all hoping she was safe. In all the excitement and chaos, they hadn’t considered where she would go. If she hadn’t returned home by tomorrow night, they would send someone after her.

Blips and snippets from the day peppered her thoughts.

The hatched plan. The singing. The impromptu wedding between Broderick and her cousin Paulina, which she couldn’t be happier about.

Now both sisters were married: Philomena and Paulina.

The eight of them (two cousins and six sisters) had spent so much of their youth together playing games, fantasizing about their future husbands, and encouraging each other to pursue their dreams. Without their support and encouragement, she might not have gone after Hugo in the first place.

So although she had an extensive list of questions for Paulina, she was delighted to see her so happy.

But it was another snippet from the day that kept dotting her thoughts. That man who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her while she was singing.

Lucas.

She had found out a little about him right after the ceremony.

The man was a rake.

A duke and a rake.

But his rakishness canceled out his dukishness.

Not that she was looking for a duke, but…

well…rakishness canceled out anything in her mind.

The last thing she wanted was a man who couldn’t hold onto a woman for longer than it took him to do his own hair.

And considering he was a rake and probably spent a fair amount of time on his hair, she was being gracious in allotting that timespan.

No. A rake would not do. She knew that the man that she had loved had been kind, considerate, compassionate, and committed. None of those attributes could be ascribed to a rake. Again. Not that she was looking…

But if she were looking…

She stood up and walked toward the mirror in her room.

Running her hands down her skirts, she turned to the side, appreciating her figure.

Her and Hugo had had fun in the bedroom, and she missed those times as much as she missed everything about him.

But she had never felt comfortable pursuing or receiving that kind of attention from another man.

Until…

Well, she still wasn’t sure, but as she smoothed her hair back from her face, she noticed the fatigue in her eyes. A hollowness.

Perhaps it was time to fill herself back up. She could use a good filling up…couldn’t she?

Without permitting time for doubt to creep in, she raced to her door and down the hallway. She knew just who to turn to.

Her feet padded down the hallway in sync with her heart. The beats were hard and fast, and she could already feel the sweat dripping down between the valley of her breasts. This was all because of that man.

Lucas.

He hadn’t stopped staring at her, and even then his perusal of her had produced an uncommon amount of sweat in various places of her body.

While she had been singing, her heart had already been pounding out enough of a rhythm so loudly it had almost thrown her off the beat of her song, but when she caught his glance, it had only beat louder.

As she raced down the corridor, she accepted that what she was about to do was probably a half-witted plan, but she didn’t want to talk herself out of it. When she reached the door, she raised her hand to knock.

Fist in the air, a tiny bit of doubt army-crawled into her mind. What if it didn’t work? What if the answer was no? What if she never found love again?

Oof! That last question was like a boulder rolling over her heart. Thank God it rolled right on over her beating organ and didn’t stay atop it because she surely didn’t have the strength to push it off.

It was now or never.

Audra knocked on the door.

When the door opened, she sucked in her breath, for not one but three people answered the door. Well, the more the merrier.

She had practiced the words in her head with each step down the hallway.

Right about now they were feeling quite foolish.

She shouldn’t be the one asking for this.

But when had she turned so cowardly? That was something she hadn’t realized had been gripping her so tightly.

Squeezing the breaths right out of her body.

Fear. It had its sharp claws on her, and since they were attached to several tentacles, there was no freeing herself.

Except…

She was not one to give up. She had always been one to go after what she wanted.

Hugo had been the ultimate proof of that.

He wasn’t in possession of a title, mass fortunes, or anything save a large heart that loved her as much as she did him.

And then, love had been enough. So she had run away with him and married.

Yes, it had taken courage to do that, but she had always known her sisters supported her.

When he died, a part of her died, too. Largely her courage. But—with a deep inhale she steeled herself—she would no longer accept that the bold, the audacious, the determined part of her had died.

No. Fear might be the current ruler in her life, but she was about to usurp its power.

She was tired of being afraid. Tired of being afraid of fear. Of the future. Of herself. Of what others thought of her. That wasn’t her.

Though she would never have been described as fearless, those who knew her best would all label her brave.

And that’s what was missing from her life lately.

She knew that now. She could see it. But first she had had to hear it.

Singing in front of the church shook her, and thank God, because it had shaken loose some dust, some chains, some fear. She wanted more shaking.

As frivolous as it sounded, it all started here down this hallway.

It started with her. And how she saw herself.

How she felt about herself. And how she showed herself to the world around her.

She was not a shy, mousy widow. She had a life to live.

Hadn’t the Widows’ League been encouraging her to live life to the fullest?

Whenever she had spent time at Matron Manor, she always left with a renewed sense that something bigger, something fulfilling was waiting for her, though she didn’t know what it was.

So with three sets of eyes staring curiously at her, she finally blurted out, “I need a makeover,”