Page 9 of Her Beastly Duke
Now, where the hell was his bloody mask?
Julius’s eyes darted around the room until he located it on his desk. He jumped from the chair, donned the mask and hurled through the door. The woman was not in sight, but he could hear her swift feet plowing down the stairs, and he chased after her. He would be damned if he was going to let her escape after their agreement. This woman came to his home uninvited and invaded his library, and he would have an explanation whether the chit liked it or not.
The woman made him curious yet uneasy. Julius was alive and in good health, but much of his life was devoid of life’s simple pleasures. She surprised him and made him chuckle in a relatively short time. When their gaze locked for the first time, he felt a tightness in his chest. Her boldness was certainly stimulating, and when she threw him the rapier, his pulsequickened, and his mouth went dry. Julius had never felt such fascination in all his years, especially one provoked by a woman. .
He charged down the stairs and through the open door before he saw the woman running down the driveway. Julius made a dash in her direction. His chest heaved as the gravel crunched under his boots. He was gaining on her, and she knew it, for she cast a glance over her shoulders. To her credit, she tried to speed up, but Julius doubled down. Soon, he would have her. Julius drew in line with her for a spell before he overtook her, spun around, and she crashed into his chest.
Julius heard her soft gasp, and something hot and peculiar prickled low in his belly, disconcerting enough that he snapped his head back and was rendered motionless. He held her when she smashed into his chest. Her damnable feel stirred senses that had been dormant for years, and he stilled.
Bloody hell.
Julius dared not breathe, yet he yearned in a way he had not for a long time. It had been a while since he wanted more than the bare necessities, but desire coursed through his veins like a starving man in need of food and water. Her soft body and scent aroused him, and it was the most disconcerting awareness. She pushed her hands against his chest and twisted in his arms as she tried to flee, but she was not going anywhere.
Julius bent his knees, scooped her into his arms, and with one fell swoop, he effortlessly threw her over his shoulders. The woman squealed and immediately began pounding her fist against his back. Her tiny fist against his hard frame did not cause him any discomfort. Julius paid her no attention.
“Unhand me!” She demanded.
“Will you stop running? If you stop, I will set you down.”
She only cried out, “You beast!”
“I have been called worse.”
He spun around and headed toward the house, oblivious to the small fists on his back. He would get to the bottom of this affair soon enough. Julius entered the house through the open door and closed it gently behind him before he entered the closest drawing room on the landing. The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the smoldering remains of the fire in the fireplace. He moved closer to the warmth and deposited the woman on the sofa. She shuffled across until she could not move any further, as though she wanted the greatest distance between them. Julius was amused that after creeping around his house alone, trying to steal his painting, and challenging him to a duel, she now decided to be cautious and apprehensive.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
The words were out of his mouth before he thought about saying them. Why was he treating her like a guest? It was nonsensical that he was being sociable … and with her.
“I do not. What I would like to be able to do is to leave,” was her defiant reply.
Her chin was held high; however, the slightest tremble was seen in her hands. Those were the very same hands that handled the rapier with remarkable skill even when he held his at her throat. Julius held her gaze, and although she called him the beastly duke, there was no revulsion in her eyes. He was surprised, shocked really, that she had not reacted in the same way as other ladies of thehaut ton. No pity, no scorn, no revulsion. He detected curiosity as she crossed her arms across her chest and studied him.
Let her leave? He thought not. “I will not allow it. Not until I learn more about you and the real reason you are here. What brought you to Berkley Estate, my lady? Where were you going withmypainting?” He assumed she was a lady because she spoke like one. He assumed she would disabuse him of the notion if she were not. Silence greeted him, and it was deafening.
Julius walked over to the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He was thirsty from the exertion of the duel and chasing after the chit. He took his glass and sat on the armchair across from her, maintaining some distance between them. He did not want her to feel threatened. She had an oval face that was dark and rather delicate. Her beautiful brown hair, though tousled, cascaded over her shoulders and tumbled carelessly down her back. It framed a face with prominent cheekbones, a square chin and a temptingly curved mouth.
Her face was determined, and her lips were pressed shut as if to ensure no sound came forth. She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on but remained silent. Stubborn and defiant.
“You know who I am, the Duke of Berkley. We have not had the pleasure. I am certain that if we had met, I would remember.”
Julius took a sip of wine and gazed at her over the rim of his glass. “Since you refuse to speak with me, I could always let the magistrate settle the matter.” Julius now had her full attention.
The woman took a deep breath and punctuated it with several even gasps. “There is no need for the sheriff, Your Grace. I am Miss Briar Walcot, sister of Baron Walcot.” A polite half-smile lit her lovely face, yet the fire did not leave her eyes.
Julius’s gaze was unwavering. “You are a long way from home, Miss Walcot. What brought you to my door?”
“A rather unfortunate set of circumstances, Your Grace. Something rather desperate and foolish,” she said, then hesitated before she closed her mouth.
Those lips. He felt the whispering sensation in the pit of his belly, and he knew for sure that he did not imagine it the first time. It was more than mere curiosity. She was intelligent, devious perhaps and definitely bold. He admired her sense of adventure even though he was equally amused.
“I am all ears,” Julius said as he waited. “Get on with it. I do not suppose you want to be here until dawn.”
“I do not, Your Grace. We must return home to our family without delay.”
Julius’s brows furrowed. “We?”
It was only then that she recounted the tale. He was initially skeptical, but he held her gaze. Their dazzling brown depths held the truth. She did not jest. They had broken into his house to steal a forgery. He had never heard of such a ridiculous notion. Julius knew Miss Walcot’s father, the late Baron Walcot, but he had no idea the family had been in such dire straits after the baron passed away. They managed to keep up the pretext, thinking they could maintain their status, but the world was cruel, and it was not to be. He had to admit Miss Walcot’s plan would probably have worked if he had not been sleeping in the library.
