Page 7 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)

CHAPTER 7

“ H ave you seen the latest sensation to grip London’s drawing rooms?”

Leo looked up from his correspondence to find Noah standing in his study doorway, a familiar-looking pamphlet dangling from his fingers.

The morning sun streaming through the windows highlighted his friend’s broad smile.

“Blytheton, it’s barely eleven. Shouldn’t you be nursing last night’s excesses?”

“Some things are worth rising early for.” Noah dropped into the chair opposite Leo’s desk and cleared his throat with theatrical flair before opening the pamphlet. “ His touch burned like brandy against her skin as he pressed her into the velvet cushions. The Duke’s voice was sin itself as he whispered ?—”

“Enough!” Leo’s pen snapped between his fingers, sending drops of ink splattering across his desk. “When was this published?”

“It began circulating yesterday evening. I must say, Lady Asquith has quite the imagination. Thought that bit about the library ladder seems inspired by personal experience. It’s something I must try?—”

“Where did you get this?”

“They are being sold all over Mayfair.” Noah’s amusement dimmed slightly at Leo’s glowering expression. “I thought you were handling the situation?”

Leo snatched the pages from Noah’s fingers and scanned the words with growing fury.

The story was worse than he’d imagined—not because it was crude but because it captured with devastating accuracy certain private moments he’d shared behind closed doors.

And worse, she’d woven them into something almost… poetic.

“ His fingers traced patterns of possession across her —” He broke off, clenching his jaw. “This has gone too far.”

“I assumed you would feel this way.” Noah stretched his long legs toward the fire. “Though you must admit, the writing is rather interesting. There’s a scene in the?—”

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Now, now.” Noah’s tone was light, but his eyes sharpened as he looked at Leo. “Murder seems a bit extreme, even for you. Besides, that would be rather repetitive, coming from you. Perhaps you should add a new crime to your ledger to change things up?—”

“Noah,” Leo growled.

The Marquess chuckled. “Peace. I was only joking.”

Leo stood abruptly and strode across the room to the bell pull. “Have my carriage brought around,” he ordered the footman who appeared in the doorway.

“The carriage?” Noah raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t mean to call on her? That will only fuel the wagging tongues of the ton, especially after your little dance.”

“Of course not.” Leo pulled on his coat. “I’m going to the servants’ entrance like any proper scandalous visitor.”

“Ah, how refreshing to see you maintaining your standards.” Noah rose to follow him. “Shall I come along to prevent bloodshed?”

“Go home, Blytheton. I am sure you have a headache you need to nurse or a bottle you need to open.”

Twenty minutes later, Leo’s carriage stopped in the alley behind Lady Asquith’s townhouse. A kitchen maid nearly dropped her basket of vegetables when he stepped out.

“Good day, sir!” she called out when her eyes caught sight of the ducal coat of arms emblazoned on the carriage door.

“Where is Lady Asquith?”

“She’s gone to Gunter’s with Lady Clarkshire, Your Grace.” The girl’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “For tea.”

Leo gritted his teeth. Of course, she was calmly drinking tea while his reputation lay in tatters across London’s drawing rooms.

“Thank you,” he said, turning on his heel. “That will be all.”

He found them easily enough, seated by Gunter’s front window like a tableau of proper ladies at their morning visit.

Lady Asquith’s dark head was bent toward Lady Clarkshire’s fair one as they shared some private joke. Probably at his expense.

The sight of her laughing so carelessly while his blood still boiled from her latest story made him want to…

Leo unclenched his hands as he pushed open the shop’s door. Both ladies looked up at his entrance, and he had the satisfaction of seeing Lady Asquith’s face pale.

“Lady Clarkshire. Lady Asquith.” He offered a small bow. “What a pleasant surprise to find you here.”

“Your Grace.” Lady Clarkshire rose smoothly and curtsied, the motion effortless. “We didn’t expect to see you in this part of town.”

“I’ve just spoken to your brother, Charles.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue. “He mentioned something that might be of interest to you.”

“Charles?” Caroline’s brows lifted delicately. “Really? Surely any news could wait. You needn’t have sought me out to speak with me.”

“I confess, I thought you might prefer discretion in this matter.” Leo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps we might take a turn about the street. The morning is quite pleasant.”

Leo took satisfaction in seeing Marina’s fingers tighten on her teacup, but Lady Clarkshire was already rising. “What an excellent suggestion. Lady Asquith, you’ll join us, won’t you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of intruding on a private matter.” Marina lowered her head, failing to meet Leo’s eyes.

“Nonsense.” Leo offered his arm to Lady Clarkshire. “I insist.”

The morning air held a crisp bite as they emerged onto the street. Leo guided them along the fashionable row of shops, maintaining a stream of innocuous conversation about Caroline’s family while his awareness of Marina’s presence beside them burned like a brand.

“Oh!” Caroline’s steps faltered as they passed an elegant shopfront. “Is that the new shipment of novels from Paris that Lady Jersey mentioned?” She peered through the window of Hatchard’s bookshop. “I promised Harold I’d look for that treatise on horticulture he’s been wanting.”

“By all means,” Leo said smoothly. “We shouldn’t keep you from such an important errand.”

The moment Caroline disappeared into the shop, Leo turned on Marina. She stepped back instinctively, but his hand shot out to catch her elbow, drawing her into the shadowed alcove beside the building.

“Your latest story makes for quite interesting reading,” he said softly.

“Does it? I wouldn’t know.” Her feigned innocence only incensed Leo further.

“No?” His thumb traced circles on the inside of her elbow. “Then shall I quote the particularly vivid passage about the Duke’s preference for velvet blindfolds?”

A becoming flush crept up her neck. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” He leaned closer, watching her pupils dilate. “Tell me, My Lady, why do you persist in writing about me? Do you enjoy imagining yourself in their place? Being claimed, possessed…” His voice dropped an octave. “Thoroughly ruined?”

“I told you.” Her voice wasn’t quite steady. “I have no choice.”

“We always have choices.” His hand came up to brush a loose curl from her cheek. “Although I’m wondering if you’re not choosing this deliberately. Perhaps you enjoy provoking me.”

“You flatter yourself, Your Grace.” Her voice held defiance, but he felt the slight tremor that ran through her as his fingers traced her jaw. “The stories are merely fiction.”

“Are they?” He stepped closer, backing her against the building. The morning sun caught the blue of her eyes, making them shine like sapphires. “Then why do you tremble when I touch you, exactly like your heroine in the conservatory scene?”

“I don’t—” She broke off as his thumb brushed her bottom lip, the soft gasp sending heat through his blood.

“Tell me, Lady Asquith,” he murmured, fighting to keep his voice steady, “do you write what you know or what you wish to know?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and the unconscious gesture nearly undid his control. “I have an excellent imagination.”

“Do you?” His fingers found her pulse, racing beneath the delicate skin of her throat. The rapid flutter betrayed her composure, making him want to discover what other reactions he could draw from her. “And what is your imagination telling you now?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and for a moment, Leo forgot they were standing on a public street. He forgot about her stories, about his reputation, about everything except the overwhelming urge to claim those parted lips.

“Marina?” Caroline’s voice cut through his haze of desire. “I’ve found the most interesting volume on—oh!”

Leo forced himself to step back though every instinct screamed to keep Marina close. “Lady Clarkshire, I trust you found what you were seeking?”

“I… yes.” The look in Lady Clarkshire’s eyes told him their compromising position hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Though perhaps we should return to our tea? It’s growing chilly out here.”

“Of course.” He offered a bow. “Ladies, I won’t keep you any longer. Though, Lady Asquith?” He allowed a hint of warning to color his smile. “Be careful what you write. Some stories have a way of coming true.”

He forced himself to walk away at a measured pace though his blood still raced with unfulfilled desire.

Behind him, he heard Caroline’s voice fade into the morning air. “Well, I believe you have some explaining to do.”

Only when he rounded the corner did Leo allow himself to release a ragged breath.

The woman was more dangerous than he’d anticipated—and far more tempting.