Page 36 of Five Ways to Bed a Duke

So why couldn’t she summon any excitement about their impending courtship? Instead, she was unconsciously looking for someone else… another man while her suitor guided her across the dance floor. She was unhealthily obsessed with a certain dark-haired duke who had made it abundantly clear that he was never going to marry.

What was it about the man’s elusiveness that made him more alluring? A man with the Duke’s dangerous characteristics was supposed to send her running for the hills. Instead, she found herself drawn to him by some unseen force. But that attraction threatened disastrous consequences, so for her sake and that of her family, she had to resist it.

Besides, it wasn’t fair to the nice, perfect Lord Livingston to have his intended infatuated with another man. If that ever made its way to the ears of the gossips, it would be humiliating for a man of his caliber.

So she resolved to focus her attention on Lord Livingston. Hopefully, with enough devotion, she might develop even a fraction of those warm feelings for him.

Richard knew it was a mistake to attend this ball knowing that Catherine, the bane of his existence, would be in attendance. He had come to this ball convincing himself that he needed to escort Emmy and that he needed to see Catherine’s progress in her hunt for a suitor, seeing as she was his student. But even he knew that those excuses were just that, excuses. His sister could have made it to the ball with her maid as a chaperone, and Catherine, being the clever lady she was, was going to do brilliantly on her own, and on that account, he was absolutely right.

When she had appeared at the entrance dressed in the vibrant red gown he bought for her, Richard had been sure his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was not the only one who had noticed her sheer beauty and magnetism, though, because he could swear the room almost fell silent as most of the male population focused their attention on her.

Some primal part of him longed to declare, “She is mine!”

Except she wasn’t.

He had studiously avoided her, not trusting himself since that sensual episode in her family’s library. When she had suggested they continue their flirting classes, he had opted for corresponding via letters because he knew that spending time with the tempting minx behind closed doors would be a lesson inignorance, and he was not ready to run the risk of tempting the beast that lingered under the surface.

He had stayed away in the hopes that the time away might extinguish his attraction towards her, but so far, it did not seem to have solved the problem

The moment the Viscount Livingston had placed his hand on her waist, his vision turned red with jealousy as he wondered if the man was not holding her too close than was necessary for the dance. And why was she smiling so widely at him? Why was he so bloody happy that he was smiling like a fool?

Richard had been moments away from marching to the dance floor and snatching her away.

Unfortunately, that would destroy what they had worked so hard for. He had wanted her to secure a suitor, and now she was dancing with one. As her tutor, he should be proud, so why did he feel enraged instead?

With conscious effort, Richard unclenched the fist he didn’t know he had been clenching.

“If you stare at them any longer, I am positive they will burst into flames,” Simon quipped beside him.

Richard turned to direct his glare on him, and Simon raised his hands in mock surrender while still chuckling.

Emmeline watched them carefully. “What is it, Brother? Do you not approve of her dress? While I know red to be a bold color on an unmarried lady, I still think it does wonders for her physique—it suits her perfectly. She looks absolutely ravishing, in my opinion,” she said in her friend’s defense.

Richard wanted to tell her that he certainly did not disapprove of the gown, seeing as he was the one who gifted it to Catherine. He did not intend to explain because then, he would need to provide reasons why he had sent a dress to an unmarried lady who was in no way betrothed to him, and that was a conversation he hoped to avoid.

As fate could have it, just at that moment, a lanky young man who seemed to just be finding his feet in Society approached Emmy for a dance. Richard was relieved that Emmy had been kind enough to accept, sparing the young man the embarrassment of rejection.

Going by the way the young fellow was fidgeting and his lack of composure, he must have recently joined Society and was not yet jaded like the other members of the ton.

Watching Emmy and the young Earl of Hutton take their positions for the dance, Richard marveled at their innocence, and some hidden part of him hoped desperately that they could hold on to that childlike innocence. But he knew enough about life and the capricious nature of fate to know that such a phenomenon was unlikely to happen. A year or so of mingling with the fashionable crowd was enough to make an angel cynicaland jaded, and it was safe to say that these younger ones could never escape it.

He was just grateful that his sister was attracting suitors and admirers. It seemed her lessons with Catherine had yielded some results because he suspected that they spent most of the time allocated for their lessons gossiping and laughing. He would know, since he heard Catherine’s throaty laughter all the way from his study whenever she visited.

“You look even gloomier now than the last time I saw you. Don’t tell me you haven’t laid your woman problem to rest?” Simon asked, jolting him out of his gloomy thoughts.

When Richard did not answer. Simon continued.

“The woman you are in love with must be a paragon to have successfully tied you in knots the way she has. What do you intend to do about that, hmm?”

“I am not in love with anybody,” Richard snapped.

“Alright, if you say so, Your Grace,” Simon said in an exaggeratedly remorseful tone.

Richard opened his mouth to apologize, but his friend cut him off.

“So… did you visit the beautiful Cynthia like we discussed? I am certain she would have given you a good seeing-to—if you knowwhat I mean,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, a lascivious grin on his face.

“Not that it is any of your business, but yes, I did visit Cynthia,” Richard replied, exasperated. He rose from his chair. “I would like to take a walk in the garden. Please excuse me.”

---