Page 2 of The Villain’s Vixen (Wanton Wastrels)
CHAPTER 2
L exie’s heart was pounding so fiercely, she was tempted to put a hand over it to ensure it stayed within her chest.
But now that she was standing there, in front of the society devil, she could certainly imagine why many might think he was such a ruthless villain. With his towering height, slightly tousled dark hair, and those equally dark eyes that seemed to bore right into her very soul, he was intimidating. But he was also— dare she even think it —tempting?
Duke or no, she found him fascinating, and she hadn’t been able to resist slipping out onto the terrace to follow him as soon as her dance had ended. With hastened steps, she had been praying he was still there, and when she’d walked through the open doors and spied him standing there, it had almost unnerved her. She had almost convinced herself that the space would be empty. When it was not, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. Of course, it was about the weather. Such inane chatter likely made her sound like a ninnyhammer, not any better than the empty-headed debutantes that she had befriended inside the ballroom. Thankfully, she was quite intelligent. Her father had made sure all his children were properly educated.
She just had to prove to the duke that she was different and worthy of being singled out by his attention. Whether or not her aunt approved, he was still a high-ranking peer. Surely, Aunt Bonnie could overlook the few faults he might possess.
He turned to her and crossed his arms, looking even more imposing. “Yes. I suppose it is. For October.”
“I am not a fan of the rain,” she admitted, and then wanted to shake herself for such a boring comment. While it was true, she was prattling on about the weather again, for goodness’ sake. “I find it entirely too… wet.”
Heavens. Perhaps I’m a goose after all.
She could have imagined the slight upturn of his lips right then, but when he spoke, it was apparent that his deep voice held a hint of amusement. “Is it such a terrible thing to be… wet? This is England, after all.”
The fine hairs on the back of Lexie’s neck stood on end. Not because she was fearful of this man, but because of the electricity that seemed to pass between them in that moment. Something told her he wasn’t speaking of the sky opening up when he mentioned being… wet .
She clenched her thighs together at a decided dampness. “Naturally. England is notorious for… rain.”
Good lord. Could she not contrive any other topic than this ?
It was the duke who took the initiative. He pushed away from the railing and came toward her. Immediately, her throat clenched and she couldn’t speak even should she have wanted to do so. It was as if he’d put some sort of spell upon her. The way his eyes glimmered in the moonlight; she could almost imagine it were so. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
Lexie told herself not to respond, to tell the truth, to act the elusive and mysterious vixen, but instead, she abruptly found her voice and said, “The Duke of Cuthbert. ”
He lifted a brow. Either impressed by her honesty or amused by her naivety. She couldn’t discern which. “That seems to leave me at a disadvantage. You are?”
At the prompt, she told herself this was her chance to offer a seductive rejoinder. Perhaps Your Grace will simply have to find out. That would have been the perfect choice.
Instead, the absence was interrupted by the firm tone of her aunt’s voice. “Alexandra! I have been looking for you.” Her eyes widened as she took note of Lexie’s companion. Immediately, Lexie’s heart fell. She wasn’t ready to end her time with the duke, but she had squandered her one opportunity to make a good first impression on this man with her empty conversation. Where was the charming wit she had always prided herself on?
“Come inside at once. There is an urgent matter that requires your attendance.” The older woman didn’t give Lexie a chance to speak as she grasped her arm and nearly dragged her toward the doors to the ballroom. With a helpless roll of her eyes, she hoped that was enough to offer her apologies to the duke.
Touching a hand to his forehead in a silent salute, that was the last she saw of him before her aunt pulled her into the nearest alcove. “What did I tell you about engaging with that man?” Aunt Bonnie hissed. “He is nothing but a bounder. Your father assured me that you were a sensible gel but your actions would prove otherwise.”
Lexie did her best to appear repentant. If she did not, then her aunt might very well decide to wash her hands of her and send her back to the country. Before she’d met the duke she might have decided to do so, but London had gotten much more interesting. She wasn’t ready to leave now. “I am sorry, Aunt. I merely stepped onto the terrace for some air. I didn’t know the duke would be there.”
Her aunt narrowed her eyes and gave a huff of disapproval. “I suppose such encounters cannot be helped. Just see that it doesn’t happen again, and if you find yourself in the same company, quickly turn and walk the other way.” She lifted her chin and said, “We shall take our leave. I daresay I did not prepare myself for such excitement this evening.”
Lexie wanted to groan, but she knew she had no other choice. Nevertheless, she attempted one more ploy. “Must we?” She lifted her arm where her dance card was dangling innocently. “There are more dances that haven’t yet been claimed.”
“The gentlemen will have to find other ladies to stand up with.”
The finality of her aunt’s words pressed into Lexie’s heart.
As they started to walk up the stairs to exit the ballroom, she turned her head one last time to search the crowd for the duke, but he never reappeared in her line of vision.
The next morning, Lexie was having breakfast in the morning room with her aunt when Aunt Bonnie abruptly let out a horrified gasp. Lexie nearly dropped her toast thinking something terrible had happened. “What is it?”
“That… that… man ! The utter cheek…!”
Lexie had never heard Aunt Bonnie at a loss for words before, but this morning they seemed to have deserted her. “Er, could you be more specific?—?”
“The Duke of Cuthbert. That’s who!” Her aunt tossed aside the newsprint with a moue of disgust. Lexie, however, was suddenly eager to know what had put her aunt in such a tizzy.
Clearing her throat lightly, she attempted to adopt a neutral tone even if her pulse was suddenly starting to hum with anticipation. “I can’t imagine anything that might give you cause for such a nervous disposition?—”
“Can’t you?” her aunt snapped in a huff. She instantly retrieved the paper and opened it back to the offending piece. “ Listen to this. It has been rumored that the irreputable Duke of C—has finally decided to honor his family name by announcing to all and sundry that he is searching for a wife. However, there are certain qualifications that must be met before a possible duchess will be considered. ” Again, the paper was thrust aside. “The audacity of the scoundrel to suggest that he find a paragon when his reputation is nearly besmirched beyond repair is quite a tall step in arrogance.”
Lexie shrugged her shoulders as she daintily bit a piece of her toast. “He is an aristocrat, Aunt Bonnie. You warned me that many men would be of a similar bent?—”
The older woman waved away her explanation. “Yes, yes. I know what I said, but when it comes to men like the duke, who has scraped by the edge of respectability behind such a revered title, it makes one doubt if his claims to find a wife are even genuine or another lark meant to amuse society.”
“I suppose we shall find out if he actually proposes,” Lexie noted dryly. Feeling that her aunt was going to leave her out to dry wondering about the duke’s qualifications for a bride, she held out a hand. “Might I see what he is daring to require regarding a future duchess?”
Her aunt tossed the print at her with a snort. Rising from the table, she smoothed her dress, as if the duke’s ridiculous suggestions had actually rumpled her clothes. “I will be out most of the morning. I have some calls to make.”
Lexie lifted a brow, knowing that meant her aunt was likely rushing over to see her friend Margaret, where they would slay the duke in the convenience of the lady’s drawing room over tea and cucumber sandwiches.
“I’m afraid you will have to amuse yourself while I’m away.”
“I shall manage,” Lexie noted. “I had a mind to wander over to the British Museum.” Knowing that her aunt despised history, believing that the present day was where people should keep themselves occupied, Lexie held her breath awaiting a reaction .
Her aunt gave a mock shudder. “Enjoy yourself, my dear. I will see you later this afternoon for the Sorrington musicale.”
As Aunt Bonnie breezed from the room, Lexie gave up all pretense of eating, her eagerness to read what had been printed overriding all else.
Scanning the black and white print until she found what she was looking for, she read the rest of the article aloud in an intriguing murmur. “ The duke has requested his future bride be kind of character, possessing of a devoted spirit, and forgiving nature. Every other attribute might be overlooked if one is capable of these three qualities. ” Lexie kept reading but it moved on to another article. “That’s it?”
Sitting back in her chair, she stared curiously at the paper, wondering what her aunt might have been so upset about. It seemed a sensible enough list to her. But then, perhaps forgiveness was a bit too much to ask if his past was littered with as many misdeeds as her aunt claimed. It would take a devoted spirit and kind nature in order to overlook the fact they were marrying a villain.
However, Lexie found the duke was even more mysterious after reading this. Not only was she surprised that he seemed willing to put aside his wayward ways to settle down, but the fact he was asking so little—no wealth, beauty, or any of the other qualifications that most men of society put upon women to be considered “accomplished.” He wasn’t asking for material interests, qualities that would impress upon society that he had gained a diamond, a paragon among women. No, instead he was just asking for someone who could look beyond the black image he’d painted of himself and discover the true man beyond all the rumor.
Rather than being critical, Lexie discovered that she was quite fascinated by his choices. Not only that, but should she find herself in the market for a husband, she would like to be considered as a candidate for the position of his duchess. She believed that she held those three demands with ease. The only issue is that she was a bit disappointed. She admired the duke for asking for so little, but she thought she’d caught a glimpse of the rogue beneath that smooth veneer the night before on the terrace. She wanted to find a man who would sweep her into his arms and kiss her utterly senseless. Until she had spied the towering, impressive figure of the Duke of Cuthbert, she couldn’t imagine anyone of her acquaintance capable of any sort of passion other than for their cigars and brandy after dinner. How terribly boring!
Lexie had lived all of her life in the country near a small hamlet. She wanted to experience so much more than the same. She didn’t want to continue rusticating for fear her spirit would start to break and fall apart. She wanted to live . When the opportunity to come to London had presented itself, she had been pleased beyond measure. Unfortunately, it had yet to prove any different than the life she’d left behind.
Shaking her head, Lexie gathered her bonnet, gloves, and pelisse, and with her maid at her side, headed out for the day. It was a crisp, autumn day, but the sun was shining and she lifted her face to the warm rays beaming down upon her. If her aunt were there, she would surely scold her for daring to impugn her complexion with even one freckle, but Lexie had never overly cared for outward appearances. She knew beauty was something that must be retained in youth, but several women in the village back home had married without the benefit of aided cosmetics or maids eager to wind their hair into an elegant chignon. She had learned that simplicity was sometimes the best choice.
As the carriage deposited her in front of the museum, Lexie decided to put all thoughts of the duke aside as she headed up the front steps. She had long wanted to see the infamous and somewhat controversial Elgin marbles that the earl had pilfered from the Greeks. He had claimed they would have been destroyed had he not intervened to save them and bring them to England, but there had been some speculation about that theory.
By whatever means they had found their way there, Lexie was grateful for the chance to behold such a sight. They were as remarkable as she had hoped they would be. All of the tomes she had read had not prepared her for the magnificence of the sculptor and his detail to preserving such heritage for all time.
Walking among the scenes of battle, her footsteps echoing on the cold marble floor surrounded by heavy scenes depicted in the same stone, Lexie could not ignore the irony that one of the most powerful nations on the entire earth had found a way to showcase such a legacy, as well as lay claim to the find.
Moving about the rest of the museum, her meandering finally brought her abreast of the Rosetta stone. It had been discovered during the Napoleonic wars and was named after the city in which it was found. The face boasted three different languages, including that of ancient hieroglyphics during the time of the Ptolemaic dynasty which ended with the most famous ruler of all Egypt, Cleopatra VII.
She had long wondered about the “Queen of the Nile,” which Cleopatra had been dubbed, and her affairs with two of the most powerful men of her time—Julius Caesar and his general, Marc Antony. Lexie had fantasized what it might be like to be so consumed with passion as to earn the affection for not just one, but two lovers. She had yet to turn the head of one gentleman, but she had always been consumed with the prospect of such a turbulent love.
“Have you studied ancient hieroglyphs?”
A deep voice rumbled in Lexie’s ear and she gasped as she spun toward the speaker. As if her imaginings had brought him forth, she looked up into the inquiring gaze of the Duke of Cuthbert. She was so stunned to see him that she blurted the first thing that came to mind, “What are you doing here? ”
His lips quirked upward and, she found she liked the gesture. “Admiring the beauty of the museum,” he noted softly, his gaze traveling up and down her length. “The same as you are.”
“Indeed,” she breathed, and then blinked to gain some focus. She turned her attention back to the stone which was starting to draw more of a crowd. She stepped aside to allow others to appreciate the view. The duke joined her, and it took her a moment to remember what he had initially asked her. They started walking, and she added, “I studied it for a time. My father was not against me broadening my mind when it came to history as he championed most any cause as well.”
He smiled gently. “It seems that you have a good rapport.”
She laughed. “Not particularly. At least not when I was a child. He was scarcely present, but as he has gotten on in years, he has seemed to become more engaging. When it involves a subject that interests him, he can be quite conversational.”
“So you’ve learned to inquire about certain things,” the duke guessed. Quite accurately. She was impressed by his astute nature.
“You could say that. Although I would not speak of subjects that didn’t intrigue me as well.”
“Naturally,” he noted. “What else interests you at the museum, Miss Givenwald?”
She glanced at him curiously. “Ah. I see you have discovered my identity. Who solved the mystery for you?”
His dark eyes glimmered. “It was not so difficult as you might imagine. My hostess the previous evening was forthcoming with the information after a bit of persuasion on my part.”
“Ah. It seems your villainous ways precede you, Your Grace. My aunt has warned me quite clearly to steer clear of you.”
“Has she?” he noted softly. “I can’t say I’m surprised. The ton loves to gossip.”
Her lips twitched. “I have discovered that readily enough. It is a shame they have decided to target you. I have found that most of the time rumors are unfounded. It is speculation mixed with entertainment that causes such an uproar.”
He paused and looked at her directly. “Would that were true in my case, Miss Givenwald. But when it comes to my reputation, I have earned every black mark that has been thrust upon me.”