Page 31 of His Ruined Duchess

Still, something has changed. We practiced dancing at a private ball, and during the steps?—

Selina’s quill dripped ink onto the parchment in a fat globule. She had held it over the page for too long, considering what shemight say, and still, she could not think of the words to explain what had just happened today with the Duke.

WithHugh.

Her heart was racing within her chest again, and Selina shook her head, depositing her quill back in the pot of ink. Sighing, she lifted the parchment, blowing across it to dry the ink. When it seemed less likely that she would smear the black all over her fingers, she crumpled the page into a ball.

“No, I… I can’t.”

Standing from her desk, Selina walked to the fire and threw the page in, watching it burn until there was nothing left. Without another word to herself, without calling her maid or arranging for a bath, Selina struggled free of her attire. She lay in her bed when she was down to her shift.

Closing her eyes as tightly as she could, Selina tried to force away her thoughts of the Duke, steadying her breathing until, at last, sleep claimed her.

Chapter Thirteen

This is better. This will clear your mind and set your priorities straight.

The carriage jostled Hugh in a sporadic pattern that he allowed his brain to disappear into. He’d successfully evaded Selina’s lessons for the day, claiming that he had work he had to see to, and now, he had escaped from further encounters with her by seeing himself off to the tavern.

A stiff drink and a distraction were required if he was to keep his head level and his actions civil. And it could not come soon enough, this admittedly short drive in the coach to his desired destination taking far too long.

You must steady yourself, Hugh. This is not right. Not even you can justify meddling with Selina. She is in your care, for Christ’s sake.

It was too true, and Hugh had been working to convince himself of that much for days now. Being around Selina for her blasted lessons, which, yes, he had requested, was getting to be too much for him. Fresh air and the company of a woman not living under the same roof would set him right.

It had been so foolish of him to assume that teasing and tormenting that gorgeous woman would do anything but end poorly. He couldn’t offer her more than a flirtation, a brief tryst, as much as it pained him to admit that he also wanted more than that.

Which simply wouldn’t do.

Heavens, that dance… She had been…

Hugh lost himself to the memory of entwining himself with Selina during their mock ball. It had been just the two of them in the grand room, the sound of their shoes hitting the floor and Selina’s counting the only noises to distract him from the feeling of her in his arms.

And then it had become so quiet. If anyone had entered, they would have been immediately suspicious about what the two of them were doing because Hugh could not look away from her, Selina suffering the same, and his touches had lingered too long.

Hugh needed to pull himself together. This was a problem to which the only solution was stalwartly refusing to give in to that side of himself. Or find another who might suit his needs, which,of course, had been why he’d stolen away to the tavern late this evening.

The rumbling of the coach stopped, and Hugh shook himself from his thoughts as the driver pulled up to the walk that lay before one of the places he used to frequent often when he had previously resided in London. The Golden Calf—a small, lively pub best suited for those not of the aristocracy.

But he did not care about his new title. This was a necessary detour on the road to perfecting his social etiquette.

“Thank you, tiger.” Hugh stepped down from the carriage, heading straight to the main door of the establishment. “I will likely be inside for several hours but remain close by.”

The coachman called out his agreement, and Hugh left the only moderately busy street behind him as he stepped inside. Immediately, the scent of alcohol and damp wood met his senses. It relaxed Hugh in an odd way that familiarity could account for, and he proceeded to the bar near the back to acquire a drink.

It took no time at all for him to be delivered an ale, the taste igniting him because it, too, was familiar and comfortable. It was certainly not the fine port or liquor of the estate or balls that he had attended, and something about that fact alone eased the tension dogging his shoulders.

He finished the first drink poured in moments, requesting another and then a third when he’d already consumed thesecond in a matter of a few short minutes as well. His head swam with mild intoxication, just the desired effect Hugh had been searching for.

This was where Hugh had spent so much of his time as he became a man. There were no grand Season events or garden parties for him, but simple evenings in the tavern after a long day of work. Returning here felt right. He felt as if he belonged, and the pressure of saying and doing the right thing melted away.

“Oi, one for me, eh?” A young woman, a few feet down the bar, called out to the man cleaning a mug behind it, and Hugh’s heart thumped harder.

She was lovely and much more the type of woman he was used to associating with. Without thinking, Hugh began to approach her, eyeing the blazing autumn hair that was piled loosely on top of her head and the ample bosom she did nothing to hide that nearly spilled from her top.

Just your type, eh, Hugh?

As he sipped at his ale, the Duke leaned on his elbow, taking up a place at the bar right next to the woman.

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