Page 11 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

“Ah.” Arthur chuckled. “Very sneaky of you. Your services could have been useful as a spy during the war.”

“I have no doubt.” Lavinia laughed, a proud smile gracing her face. “You will learn, Your Grace, that I take my deals very seriously. As your wife, services like the ones I provided this evening would be regularly given. The people we sat with like to talk quite a bit. Soon, everyone here will know of your heroism.”

This startled Arthur a bit. No one had ever looked past his scar to want to learn where it came from or why he had it. They just took one look and assumed it was something deserved. A bad scar for a bad man.

“You did me a service tonight,” he agreed, steering her toward a darkened corner of the gardens. Lavinia allowed him to do so and put up no resistance when he pressed her back up to a trellis. She looked back at him with a studious gaze, as if trying to determine what it was he was trying to do.

Unable to help himself, he reached up toward a loose curl of dark hair by her ear and stroked the silken strands between his fingertips.

“But such a favor can quickly be turned if I refuse your proposal,” he stated. “How do I know you will not turn against me if I still choose your sister after all of this?”

Lavinia reached up, taking his hand into her own, and held it to her collarbone. His palm tingled as he touched her naked flesh, and his blood practically began to sing as he felt the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat. Was she thinking of their kiss as often as he was?

“You will learn, Your Grace,” she whispered, her tone alluring as she looked him in the eye. “That I am nowhere near as fickle as the other ladies of theton.”

“Yes,” Arthur murmured, resisting the urge to kiss her again. “I am starting to see that.”

They stared into one another’s eyes for a moment, the heat in Arthur’s groin growing once again as he took in her doe eyes, dark curls, and full lips. The urge to kiss her again swept through him suddenly, so intense that it startled him. And was it his imagination? Or did she look as if she wanted him to kiss her, too?

“We shouldn’t tarry much longer,” he said, his body moving in protest as he spoke the words.

Something like disappointment passed over Lavinia’s face, and she finally tore her eyes away from him.

After clearing her throat, she nodded and took a step back toward the walkway. “Yes, you are right, of course,” she agreed, her voice unsteady.

* * *

Lavinia was just tucking herself into bed when she heard her chamber door open. Curious, she leaned forward to look out into her sitting room and then relaxed when she saw it was only Rebecca. Her younger sister practically skipped across the rooms, her smile so big that it took up most of her face.

“Tell me everything,” Rebecca urged, bouncing onto the bed. “Has he agreed to drop the engagement? Will he return to Whitekin and leave me be? I saw you sitting with him at the dinner. Was it awful? How do you even eat when you have to look upon that dreadful scar of his?”

Indignation rose up in Lavinia, and she almost snapped at her sister to bite her tongue. There was still much more she needed to learn about the Duke, but one thing she was already tired of was everyone’s opinion about his scar. Instead, though, she took a steadying breath and smiled at her little sister.

“He has not,” Lavinia admitted, ignoring her sister’s question about Arthur’s scar. “In fact, he made it quite clear that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. But I believe we are turning a corner. We have a little more time left, and I am certain I will change his mind.”

Rebecca pouted at this, then looked at her sister with accusing eyes. “You’re not saying anything bad about me, are you?”

Lavinia laughed at the absurdity. “What on earth would make you ask that?”

Rebecca shrugged. “You won’t tell me any more details about your little plan,” she complained. “How am I supposed to know how you are dissuading him?”

“I would never risk your reputation like that,” Lavinia countered, feeling offended.

If her sister only knew what she’d offered in exchange… if she knew the personal risk involved… but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the end result.

“You must trust me, Sister,” Lavinia urged gently. “I would never do anything to harm you.”

Rebecca sighed as she crawled under the covers and lay down next to Lavinia. “I know that,” she admitted, snuggling up to her sister. “I’m just worried, you know? I cannot be happy as that man’s wife. I just cannot.”

“I know,” Lavinia assured her, snuggling down into the pillows. “Sleep now. I have it all in hand.”

Rebecca nodded, then yawned as she snuggled into the blankets and pillows in Lavinia’s bed, and then closed her eyes. Random sleepovers were something that had happened often since the death of their mother, and Lavinia had come to accept them. More often than not, Agnes, her fifteen-year-old baby sister, would often join them as well.

As Rebecca drifted to sleep, Lavinia looked down at her and sent up a silent prayer.

Please, Lord. Please, let my plan work.

But as she prayed, she began to wonder if she wanted her plan to work for her sister’s benefit or her own.

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