Page 24 of Her Wicked Duke
Pretty Hatson, Anne repeated to herself, trying to hide her blush.
Ever since Alexander had kissed her a week ago, he was using every chance he got to get on her nerves, she was sure. He did not truly find her pretty, surely, but he knew it made her lose her composure for a moment.
“Besides, would you rather sit next to your mother? I am sure your carriage ride with her wasdelightful,” he muttered.
“My mother’s company is one I enjoy, thank you,” Anne answered. “At least she doesn’t take every opportunity to rile me up.”
“Oh, Anne. If you think I am riling you up, you underestimate my talents. If Itrulywished to rile you up, then you would know, I assure you.”
She met his gaze briefly and felt that bolt of heat shoot through her, as it had done in the handful of times she had seen him since that day in the orchard.
Anne averted her gaze swiftly and walked toward Clarice.
“Anne! It is so good to see you! I believe your mother has already gone to sit with my mother. No doubt they are talking about us already.” Clarice gave a small giggle as she embraced Anne.
Her home was beautiful. It was smaller than Anne’s or Mary’s, but it was furnished exquisitely.
“I was speaking with His Grace outside,” Anne explained. “My mother must have gone on without me.”
“I believe we haven’t been formally introduced.” Alexander’s voice sounded behind Anne, deep and intimidating. He stood so close that she felt the hems of his jacket brush her bare forearms. “Alexander Dunst, the Duke of Winsor.”
Clarice’s eyes were wide with fear as she held out her hand for him to kiss. “Clarice Farthingham. It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.” She cleared her throat as she pulled her hand away. She turned back to her friend, her eyes conveying a message Anne recognized but ignored. “Your Grace, would you wish to sit with the other gentlemen? We have several tables set up on the terrace.”
Alexander’s eyes bored into Anne, but she avoided his gaze. Yes, he was there to keep an eye on her, but she didn’t want him to become overbearing.
Anne smiled brightly. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
As they walked toward the terrace at the back of the house, Alexander pulled her close for a moment, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine. “Do not assume you can lead me around like your lapdog, Anne. Not unless you’d like to know who’s on the end of whose leash. I shall sit at this gentlemen’s table and play nice, of course, so I can keep an eye on you, but do not expect me to do as you say. Do not think you can pretty me up for your friends either.”
It should have been a threat, but Anne only felt a deliciously hot shiver run through her. She nodded, and he pulled away.
They hadn’t been alone since he’d kissed her. For today’s event, he had agreed to chaperone her once there. To pick her up from the Angleton residence in his carriage would suggest they were courting, and that was not what she had agreed to,yet.
“I am grateful, Alexander,” she murmured.
He gave her a tight smile. “And I am a man who believes in rewarding good deeds. This would count as one, no? I shall collect my reward when it’s convenient.”
Anne scoffed. “With all due respect, Alexander, I do not agree that you understand what convenience is for others even if it is sitting down for tea with you.”
“Well, thanks to you, I am drinking with some gentlemen of the ton.”
“Do not forget that you agreed to everything,” Anne said smugly and then walked on, leaving him silently seething behind her.
She had no plans to flirt with other men today, but she wondered just how much she could push the Duke before he snapped.
She took her seat with the rest of the ladies on the terrace. Clarice had arranged for a number of garden tables and chairs with parasols to be set up to shield their fair skins from the sun. The gardens’ expanse offered a gorgeous view, and Anne felt the serenity instead of the panic that had seized her chest these past few days since receiving the letter.
The breeze danced over her skin, and she tipped her head back slightly, letting her curls hang off her shoulders. She peered at Alexander, who was seated at the other table. His eyes found hers across the terrace. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she looked away, tuning into the conversation.
Servants came up to fill the afternoon tea stands in the center of the table, and Anne reached for a chocolate drop and a sandwich. China cups were filled, and pots of tea were left on the table for refills. Trying not to focus on Alexander’s eyes on her soon became easier when the women struck up a conversation.
“Did you see what Miss Henman was wearing last night?” one of the ladies whispered as if the lady in question was there. “It looked like an ancient dress!”
Clarice leaned in, her eyes bright at the opportunity to gossip. “I overheard that her parents spent too much money paying off some gambling debts that her father accumulated on his visit to France. That was why she could not afford a new dress.”
Anne had not attended the party the night before. While she felt like Alexander’s protection would be beneficial, she had decided to skip some of the events. She had declined under the excuse of having a terrible headache, claiming the lights of a ballroom would worsen the pain.
“I don’t know how she expected to receive a courtship offer in such a shabby dress,” another lady scoffed. “What respectful gentleman would be interested?”
