Page 8 of Wedded to the Duke of Sin (Dukes of Passion #2)
CHAPTER 8
“ Y our brother has exceeded all expectations.” Lady Westhaven’s fan moved in gentle approval as they watched Thomas escort Lady Evelyn through the set. “Who would have thought that the infamous Lord Colton could be so reformed?”
Alice smiled, relief coursing through her as she observed the couple from their position near one of Lord Burlington’s marble columns.
The candlelight caught the gilt details of the ballroom’s elaborate ceiling, casting a warm glow over the assembled guests.
Thomas hadn’t looked at a gaming table in weeks, and his obvious devotion to Lady Evelyn had Society revising its opinion of him.
“He simply needed the right motivation, my lady.”
“Indeed.” Lady Westhaven’s shrewd eyes studied Alice’s face. “Though I suspect his sister’s influence played no small part in his transformation.”
“I merely encouraged him to recognize his better nature.”
“Hmm.” Lady Westhaven’s fan took on a more contemplative rhythm. “Well, my dear, your efforts have not gone unnoticed. In fact—” She broke off when she spotted Lady Jersey beckoning her over. “Oh dear, I must speak with Lady Jersey about the charity committee. Excuse me just a moment, my dear.”
Alice had barely risen to curtsy before Lord Burlington’s ancient butler materialized at her elbow, speaking in a discreet tone, “Lady Alice, Lord Weatherby requests your presence in the library. He says that it is an urgent matter.”
Her heart sank. Lord Weatherby was one of her father’s former associates, known more for his wandering hands than his business acumen. But with Thomas’s future hanging by a thread…
Alice glanced around carefully. The nearby guests seemed absorbed in their conversations, and Lady Westhaven was busy chattering with Lady Jersey. If Alice hurried, she could be back before anyone noticed her absence.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the butler, then made her way toward the library as casually as possible, though her heart thundered against her ribs.
She shouldn’t go—everything about this screamed impropriety—but if there was any chance Weatherby had information about Thomas’s outstanding debts…
The library was located at the end of a long corridor, away from the music and laughter in the main rooms. Alice’s footsteps echoed against the marble floor as she followed the butler, who opened the heavy door and announced her presence before retreating.
Lord Weatherby stood by the fireplace, his corpulent frame casting long shadows in the lamplight. “Lady Alice. How kind of you to join me.”
Something in his tone made her skin crawl.
“You wished to discuss my brother’s business matters?”
“Among other things.” He moved closer, forcing her to step back. The stench of brandy filled the air. “You’ve grown into quite a beauty, my dear. Just like your mother.”
Alice’s back hit a bookshelf. “My lord, I believe we should rejoin the party.”
“So soon?” His hand came up to touch her face. She jerked away, but there was nowhere to go. “Such a waste, a pretty thing like you with no dowry. But I could help with that. For a small favor.”
“Step away from me.” Her voice shook despite her efforts to stay calm.
“Come now, no need to play coy. We both know about your family’s situation.” His other hand pressed against the shelf beside her head, caging her in. “I am offering you protection. Surely that’s worth?—”
“I believe the lady asked you to step away.” The Duke’s voice cut through the room like steel.
Weatherby stumbled back, his face flushing. “This is a private conversation, Your Grace.”
“Not anymore.” The Duke crossed the room in three long strides. Although his voice remained perfectly even, something dangerous flickered in his eyes. “I suggest you return to the ballroom. Now.”
“You dare interfere?—”
“Do not test me, Weatherby.”
Weatherby’s face was mottled with rage, but his sense of self-preservation won out. He backed away, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to reach the door.
As soon as it clicked shut, the Duke turned to Alice. “Are you hurt?”
“I am perfectly fine.” But her hands were shaking. “I had the situation well in hand.”
“Of course you did.” His voice softened. “That’s why you are trembling.”
“I am not?—”
But she was, curse it all. The tension of the past few minutes crashed over her, and she sagged against the bookshelf.
The Duke stepped closer, not touching her but offering his solid presence as an anchor. “Breathe, sweetheart. He’s gone.”
“Don’t call me that.” But the protest lacked heat. “I don’t need your protection.”
“No?” His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, the touch feather-light. “Then tell me to leave you alone.”
She should step away. She absolutely should step away. But his presence seemed to have stolen all her good sense, leaving only awareness of how close he stood, how his eyes had darkened to midnight blue.
“I am angry,” she managed. “At him. At you. At this entire ridiculous situation.”
“Are you?” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “Tell me to leave, then.”
“I—” The words caught in her throat.
A burst of laughter from the corridor broke the spell.
Alice jerked back, nearly knocking over a shelf of leather-bound volumes.
“We should return to the party.” She smoothed her skirts with trembling hands. “Or else people will talk.”
“Let them.” But he stepped back, giving her space to breathe. “Though if Weatherby so much as looks in your direction again, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“I don’t need a champion, Your Grace.”
“No?” That dangerous smile returned. “Perhaps I simply enjoy playing the role.”
Before she could respond, the library door opened to reveal Thomas.
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere—” He broke off, taking in the scene. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Alice said quickly. “His Grace was just?—”
“Leaving.” The Duke bowed perfectly. “Good evening, Lord Colton. Lady Alice.”
Alice watched him walk away, trying to ignore how her skin still tingled where he’d touched her.
“Alice?” Thomas’s voice held an edge of concern. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing worth mentioning.” She forced a smile. “You were looking for me?”
Her brother’s expression brightened immediately. “Yes! I have wonderful news. Lady Westhaven just gave me her blessing to propose to Evelyn at their ball next week.”
“Thomas, that’s wonderful!” The genuine joy on his face pushed aside her lingering unease. “Then everything is settled?”
“Almost.” He caught her hands, squeezing them. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Sister. Your faith in me, your persistence—even when I was being an absolute beast about it all.”
“You weren’t that bad.”
“I was worse.” His smile turned rueful. “But Evelyn… she makes me want to be better. To be worthy of her.”
Something swelled in Alice’s chest. She’d never heard her brother speak with such sincerity.
“You already are.”
“No, but I am trying to be.” He glanced toward the ballroom, where they could just glimpse Lady Evelyn in her pale blue gown. “I love her, Alice. Properly love her. Can you believe it?”
“Yes.” She smiled up at him. “I absolutely can.”
“There’s just one thing.” His expression grew serious. “Once we’re married and our finances are restored, I would like to help you seek a match yourself.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Brother, but we should focus on fixing our household before that.”
“Still. Perhaps we should consider?—”
“Thomas.” Alice squeezed his hands. “Tonight is for celebrating your happiness. Nothing else matters.”
He studied her face for a moment. “You are sure you are all right? You seem unsettled.”
“Just overwhelmed by joy at your good fortune.”
“Liar.” But he kissed her cheek. “Come on, then. Help me practice my proposal. I want it to be perfect.”
As they returned to the ballroom, Alice caught sight of the Duke speaking with Lord Drakeley by one of the tall windows. He looked up as if sensing her gaze, and that same crackling awareness shot through her.
She quickly looked away, focusing on Thomas’s animated description of his planned proposal.
But she couldn’t quite forget the feel of the Duke’s hands on her face or the way his eyes had blazed with protective fury.
Worse still, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to.