Page 6 of Her Beastly Duke
Why was it forbidden? Perhaps this is where the duke stored the painting. Her curiosity was magnified.
“Would you like me to show you back to your bedchamber?”
“Thank you.”
Briar dutifully followed Agnes back to her room, but she had no intention of staying there. This was not the time for faint-heartedness. She would bide her time and go directly to the forbidden wing. Briar entered the room and closed the door softly behind her. Was Duncan having better luck? She had no way of knowing and wished they had discussed this further.
Briar sat on the armchair, afraid that if she lay on the bed, she would fall asleep and miss the opportunity. Thirty minutes passed in worried contemplation before she scowled. There could be no further delay, so she stood up and took a deep, steadying breath. Briar slowly opened the door and checked the hallway then furtively walked to where Agnes found her. She resumed her search, and the first few rooms yielded nothing interesting. There were a few paintings here and there, but none were the forgery Duncan described.
Was this a terrible mistake? Would they leave empty-handed? She cautiously approached the next room, opened the door, and peeked inside. The room was a blend of shadows and light. As soon as she entered, she sensed there was somethingdifferent about it. Almost instantly, she realized it was warmer than the others, and the lantern's glow fell on many paintings.
Her heart squeezed. Perhaps she had finally come to the right place. She closed the door behind her and crept further into the room. The large oak desk at the center of the room caught her attention, for it was quite imposing. Her eyes shifted to the easel in the far corner of the room, and she gave a soft gasp. Relief washed over her. Finally, she found it.
She placed the lantern on the table and stealthily crept forward until she stood before the easel and soundlessly removed the painting from its perch. It was hard to believe this one thing held such significance. She turned toward the door but only took a few steps when a man’s voice boomed.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Muffling a shriek, she whirled to the sound of the voice. Someone was in the shadowed corner. Briar was certain the tendons were standing out in her neck, and immediately, her shoulders were rigid with tension.
He moved so quickly thatshe did not have time to register his movements before he spoke. A gentleman emerged from the corner, his figure half-bathed in the room's soft light while the rest remained cloaked in shadow. Her heart pounded so fiercely and fastthatshe felt a wave of faintness wash over her.
Answer me,” the gentleman growled, staring at her like a lion eyeing his prey, waiting to move in for the final kill.
Their gazes locked, and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’.
His stare was piercing yet inscrutable. His swift and fluid movement as he prowled closer radiated power and arrogance. There was no mistaking him. She had come face to face with the beastly duke.
CHAPTER 3
Briar’s hand flew to her chest, and she could feel her heart thudding with such force that she thought it would explode. She was rooted to the spot, even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat and flee. The room, warm just a moment ago, now felt cold, as if spring had vanished and they were in the dead of winter.
Instead of approaching her, the duke lowered himself onto a sofa and merely stared at her as if she were a specimen. An odd silence fell between them as they regarded each other, and amidst the fear, curiosity shimmered through her. Through the haze of her initial fright and shock, she realized the duke was not at all what she expected.
Even though he lounged on the sofa, she could tell he was much taller. His arm rested casually on the back as he appraised her. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms, and his white shirt, shockingly without a cravat, was parted enough to expose the strong column of his throat and Adam’s apple. His hair was wild and windswept, as if he had been riding on a stormy night.
His eyes wandered the full length of her body, lingering on her décolletage for much longer than what would be considered proper. The intensity of his gaze was frightening. Even more bewildering, Briar found herself strangely, startlingly conscious of the duke’s sensual appeal.
“Do you want me to ask you again?”
The harshness of his tone stole the protest from her throat, and her dry tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. He was clearly not accustomed to asking the same question twice.
“I… I…” She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again.
Words failed her. Briar hated that her hands shook. She did not want to appear weak and frightened. She hadn’t thought this far ahead, unwilling to dwell on the consequences of being caught. She should have had an alternative plan, but there was none. Now, she had to face the humiliating truth of being discovered. If the duke decided to call in the law, it would lead to an unrecoverable scandal of enormous proportions. She could already envision the scandal sheets and a spasm of fear gripped her.
She just needed time to think as her mind frantically searched for avenues of escape. But the duke sat up straighter just then, the lantern casting a glow. It was then that she noticed the thick scar running along the right side of his face, from his hairline to his hard chin, which marred his handsome features. The scar spoke of a horrendous experience. She jerked her gaze to his eyes and quickly glanced away from the bold, intent scrutiny. Despite his scar, he displayed such arrogance.
It was clear that this particular wing was forbidden because it was the beast’s lair. Like a bear, he had retired to his secluded and hidden place before she disturbed him.
“It is most curious that you are not answering my question.”
“You gave me a dreadful fright, Your Grace,” Briar heard the tremor in her voice, and she hated it.
A grunt of irritation left him, and he stood up from the sofa, taking a few steps closer. He towered over her; his broad chest and solid frame did nothing to calm her racing heart.
“I frightened you? Presumably, that is why you are staring so and not speaking.”
“Ye… yes.”
