Page 16 of My Darling Duke

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“Of course not,” she said with a smile that belied her denial, pushing her round, golden spectacles up her nose.

While Kitty had shared her wicked plan with all her friends, Maryann had disclosed only the barest details of her sinful musings of London’s most dangerous libertine and had stubbornly insisted she would inform them when she was confident of her path forward.

The waltz ended, and the baron escorted Anna over to their small gathering. He bowed gracefully after greeting them, his eyes twinkling with good-natured fun. Kitty liked him and thought him perfect for her gentle sister. If only he would move to secure her faster.

It had been only a few weeks since she had assumed the mantle of Kitty Danvers, fiancée of the reclusive duke, and she had started to anticipate that she might be uncovered. Kitty could no longer take any comfort that the rumors said he’d not been seen in town in years. The mentions of her in the newssheets had grown completely out of her control, all keen to remind society their most reclusive duke was engaged to the dauntless Kitty Danvers.

Surely the duke would hear of her at any moment. If the baron was to offer soon, then the end of this nerve-destroying charade would be in sight.

“May I ask you for the next dance, Miss Morton?” he asked graciously.

Fanny gasped, her eyes widening. Sadness pierced Kitty, for this was the first time a gentleman had asked Fanny to the dance floor in two seasons. Her lower lip trembled with her smile. “I would be honored, Lord Lynton.”

She dipped into a curtsy and allowed him to lead her away. If Kitty hadn’t been satisfied before that the baron was her sister’s match, his wonderful action had just cemented her belief.

Anna turned to her, her blue eyes burning with excitement, her color a trifle heightened. “Oh, Kitty, isn’t he the most amiable and good-natured gentleman you’ve ever met?”

She smiled, her sister’s joy and hope contagious. “I daresay he is.”

“Oh, dear sister, I love him. I am certain of it.” Anna clasped her hands to her front, evidently trying to be ladylike with her joy.

“Do be careful,” Kitty said. “You’ve only just met him, and while his attentions are noteworthy, he has not declared himself!”

Anna’s expression became dreamy. “I daresay when two souls connect, it hardly signifies if they’ve met only two weeks past. He is a very eligible connection. He has the most wonderful, amiable qualities, most distinguished manners, and he loves poetry as much as I do. Oh, Kitty, I feel he will offer for my hand.”

Before she could make a reply, a booming voice announced, “The Duke of Thornton!”

Shock blossomed through Kitty.

The room swirled around her and then resettled, her corset suddenly too tight.

The air was cold, as if all the blood had drained from her body, leaving her shivering. Her only sign of life was her thundering, dread-filled heart.

A slap was what she required to wake her from this horrid drea

m, but her friends had frozen. Anna turned anticipatory eyes atop the landing of the staircase. Murmurs of astonishment and speculation crested through the ballroom like a fiery wave. Then for a single, breathless moment, a startled hush fell over the throng as the import of the majordomo’s announcement settled.

Alexander Masters, the Duke of Thornton, had arrived at this ball.

Several seconds passed, and the ballroom remained unexpectedly silent, as if everyone was collectively holding their breath. The emotions pouring through Kitty were like water flowing through fingers—impossible to control or shape into any semblance of tangibility.

I’m going to faint.

Kitty had spent weeks learning everything she possibly could about the duke before she had dared to masquerade herself to Society as his fiancée. The press painted him as a recluse, an enigma, a man who did not acknowledge or respond to the gossip in scandal sheets, and society had no hope of ever seeing him again. He was an intensely private man since his rumored accident.

So why was he here?

A disaster of the scandalous and unrecoverable type loomed. The humiliating truth of her desperate scheme would be aired for public consumption. A spasm of anguish snaked through Kitty. She had ruined her family and Anna’s chance at a love match with her desperate ruse.

There could be only one reason for his presence—to unmask and repudiate her.

In that moment, Kitty was obliged to master the impulse to retreat and flee as if the devil nipped at her heels.

Then the man himself appeared on the landing. A ripple of shock went through the room, along with a few furious whispers.

“Is it he?”

“No one has seen him in seven years or more, I’ve been told!”


Tags: Stacy Reid Romance