Page 18 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Wrenching herself from his grasp, she snarled, “You go too far, Your Grace! I’ll not stand here and endure such insult.”

But even as the words left her lips, despair flooded through her. He would never believe her protests now. She had as good as confirmed his suspicions with her reaction.

Sure enough, triumph flickered briefly in the Duke’s eyes. “So that’s his hold over you. Well, well.”

Victoria wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off his accusatory stare. “Why must you persist in vilifying me?” she cried, abandoning all pretense. “From the moment we met, you have made it abundantly clear you think me grasping and deceitful. But you do not know me at all!”

The Duke’s stare did not waver. “I know well enough from watching you and Oliver together?—”

“You know nothing!” Victoria shot back. Reason told her to hold her tongue, but her injured pride pushed the words out. “If you think of me as some fortune-hungry coquette, you could not be more mistaken.”

The Duke went very still, caught off guard by her outburst.

Sensing she had little left to lose, Victoria pressed on recklessly. “I am no saint, I know, but neither am I the villainess you take me for.”

Let him make of that what he would. She could say no more.

Shoulders slumping, she asked wearily, “Why must you think the very worst of me because of such scant information?”

For a long, taut moment, the Duke just looked at her, his brow faintly furrowed. Though his expression remained guarded, she sensed the subtle shift, the cracks forming in his opinion. Victoria held her breath, scarcely daring to hope she had planted even a seed of doubt.

Then he lifted one hand slowly, hesitantly, as though to touch her face. Victoria shrank back instinctively, and he froze, dropping his hand. The shutters came down over his eyes once more.

“My apologies for distressing you, Lady Victoria,” he said stiffly. “You should return inside before you catch a chill.”

He turned away, a clear dismissal. Victoria remained rooted in place, staring at his broad back. Then frustration surged hotly through her veins. How dare he be so cold, after such an emotional confession from her!

Stepping around to face him again, she planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, so you’ve said your piece, and now it’s back to lofty disdain, is it?” She knew she sounded shrill, but she didn’t care. “Saints, I finally bare a glimmer of the truth to you, and this is how you respond?”

The Duke’s expression darkened ominously, but Victoria would not be cowed.

“For someone supposedly devoted to unmasking deception, you cling quite stubbornly to your preconceived notions,” she accused hotly. “Do you imagine it easy for me to make such admissions? I have tried to sow some small seed of understanding between us, yet you will not meet me even halfway!”

His jaw clenched. “And what would you have me do? You tell me my brother coerces you, yet you give no details. You expect me to take your word that it is not by choice, yet you provide no evidence.” He shook his head scornfully. “I deal in facts, Lady Victoria, not sentiment or speculation.”

Stung, Victoria drew herself up, rallying the last of her dignity. “You mistake me, Sir. I ask no declaration of faith from you.”

The Duke moved closer, and Victoria had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He seemed to tower over her, his presence overwhelming. She caught the scent of cigar smoke and brandy as he reached out to take her chin in a firm grasp, forcing her to look him in the eye.

His mouth descended on hers before she could utter a word of protest. Victoria froze in shock as his lips claimed hers with bruising force. It was nothing like her first kiss with Edmund, the neighbor’s son, stolen in the kitchens of Newton House. That had been furtive, childish, and awkward.

This was something else entirely. Unthinking, she leaned into him, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his coat. The Duke made a low noise in his throat and deepened the kiss, one arm snaking around her waist to haul her against him.

For a dizzying moment, Victoria forgot herself entirely, lost in the taste and scent of him, the heat of his body pressed against hers. When at last they broke apart, she could only stare at him, stunned, one hand coming up to touch her swollen lips.

“You are a peculiar creature, Lady Victoria,” he murmured, leaning down until she could feel his breath warm against her cheek. “Such a skilled dissembler. Why, I almost believed you for a moment there.”

Reality came crashing down on Victoria like a plunge into icy water. She stepped back, glaring at the Duke, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and fury.

“You are despicable, Sir,” she spat.

Gathering the torn remnants of her dignity, she fled back into the ballroom, leaving the Duke alone on the veranda. She prayed with all her might that she would not have to partner with him again this evening. Her nerves could not take another such encounter.

She must be more cautious in the future. The Duke was even more dangerous than she had realized.

Her lips were still tingling from their forbidden embrace. What had come over her? She could not let herself be swayed by emotion, not when her family’s future depended on her.

Lost in thought, she rounded the corner, and stopped short. There, regarding her with icy eyes, was Oliver.

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