Page 63 of Five Ways to Bed a Duke

He moved to the door and waited with bated breath as their plan unfolded.

“Yes, Miss Burlow,” his mother answered.

“Mother, where is Richard?” he heard Emmy ask.

“Oh, I sent him back to pick up my reticule,” the Dowager Duchess answered.

He heard Catherine’s audible sigh of relief and smiled to himself. She would be making a different sound soon, and it would delight him greatly.

“Alright.”

“Catherine, would you be a dear and fetch my smelling salts from the carriage? I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy again.”

“Alright.”

The door opened, and before Catherine could put her foot on the step, Richard’s hand shot out and pulled her inside. The driver, already informed of the plan, whipped the horses into motion so she would have no choice but to sit still.

“Richard, what in the bloody hell is wrong with you?” she scolded. “You gave me a fright.”

Richard laughed when he saw the angry flush on her neck and cheeks and the scowl on her face. He’d told her once how much he liked the look on her, and indeed it was by far his favorite look on her.

God, he was crazy for this woman.

It was about time he told her.

Chapter Twenty

“Richard, what in the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Catherine scolded. “You gave me a fright.”

She watched the annoying man laugh, her ire growing with each minute. But his laughter only seemed to grow louder, till he was slapping his thigh.

When he finally calmed down, he wiped a stray tear from his eye and gave her that annoying smile that did terrible things to her insides.

“I cannot believe you fell for my mother’s trick.” He laughed again.

“How was I to know that her fainting was just a trick?” she scoffed.

She was definitely going to give her mother a piece of her mind when she got home. But for now, she’d face the man she had been actively avoiding for weeks.

“They did play a good charade.” Richard laughed again, but seeing the scowl on her face, he stopped. “I am sorry, Catherine. We shouldn’t have played such a prank on you, but it was the only way they could get us to talk.”

“They couldn’t have just asked me?” she argued, even though she knew full well she would have disagreed vehemently.

“Would you have come?” he retorted with a raised eyebrow.

She turned away from him with a stubborn set of her jaw.

“Exactly,” he said. “I already know how stubbornly you would have refused. They all did. Well, except Lord Livingston, of course. I’m sure he’s cursing me furiously now.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked angrily. “I was perfectly fine. I had adjusted to… not seeing you. What do you want from me?”

“Catherine, it’s?—”

“No, Richard.” She shook her head. “You told me to stay away from Emmy and you, and I did. I was finally happy. Lord Livingston was going to propose. This little stunt of yours could ruin that.”

“And it would be a good thing, too!” he yelled.

She flinched back in shock, her eyes wide with fear.

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