Page 12 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
If her friend was going to react this way to every little bit of the story, then she would never get to the crux of it. They would be strolling down the garden path for the entire afternoon.
“A dukekissedme, Beatrice,” she whispered, getting straight to the main point. “He saw through my disguise.” She lowered her voice, gripping her friend’s arm tightly. “He offered tomarryme!”
Beatrice’s jaw dropped. “Who is this duke?”
Catherine took a deep breath, steeling herself for her friend’s reaction. “The Duke of Newden.”
Beatrice looked like she was about to suffer an apoplexy. “The Duke ofNewden?I am not surprised he was in a gamblinghell, nor that he dared steal a kiss from you!” She shook her head sorrowfully. “The gentleman is a notorious rake, Cathy. Oh, please do be careful!”
“Do not worry,” Catherine said, taking another deep breath. “I do not believe he was serious.” Her heart clenched. “As you said, he is a notorious rake, and that kiss was probably the extent of it. I doubt I shall see him again.” She paused. “And if I do, I shall handle him. He is just a man like any other.”
“What was it like?” Beatrice’s voice was breathless, and her eyes were shining with curiosity. “The kiss?”
Catherine’s heart clenched again. Her stomach fluttered. Eventhinkingabout the kiss was making her feel warm all over, as if she had just been dipped in a pot of syrupy honey, or she was melting, her bones turning to liquid…
“Pardon me, Miss.”
Catherine and Beatrice jumped guiltily, hastily turning around. Grimes, the butler, was standing there, gazing at them with his usual impassive face.
“What is it?” Catherine asked.
“Your brother requests that you return to the drawing room, Miss,” the butler replied in a grave voice. “He requires your immediate company.”
Catherine arched her eyebrows. “Why?”
“You have a caller, Miss,” the butler replied. “The Duke of Newden has just arrived.”
Chapter Six
“Your Grace.” Catherine almost toppled over as she curtseyed. When she rose, she knew her face was flushed. “Thisisa surprise.”
The Duke gazed at her, an amused expression on his face, his blue-green eyes filled with desire.
She had almost managed to convince herself that he wasn’t going to call and she would never see him again. And now, here he was as devilishly attractive as the first time she had encountered him.
Oliver looked surprised. “You are acquainted with His Grace, Sister?”
Catherine’s flush deepened. “Yes… I am.”
She stopped short, biting her lip. She couldn’t say how she was acquainted with the Duke—she hadn’t even breathed a wordto her brother about their strange, charged encounter in the gambling hell. And it was hardly the time or place to say it now with Patrick and Beatrice looking on.
Patrick looked as mystified as her brother. He frowned. He prided himself on keeping abreast of everyone she was acquainted with. He was even more protective of her than her own brother. And clearly, he was well aware of the Duke’s questionable reputation with the ladies.
“I have had the pleasure of your sister’s acquaintance,” the Duke responded, raising his eyebrows, almost smirking at Catherine. “It was averypleasant encounter, indeed.”
Catherine’s face felt like a hot, boiling ball of fire. She smiled weakly. Beatrice looked simultaneously amused and horrified. There was an awkward silence.
“Well, that is interesting.” Oliver coughed into his hand, looking bewildered. “Where exactly did you meet?”
There was another fraught silence. Catherine’s mind went blank. Desperately, she stared at the Duke, who looked amused. Was he about to tell the truth?
Mercifully, at that moment, Beatrice cleared her throat. “I believe it was at the Spencers’ midsummer ball, was it not?”
“Indeed, it was.” The Duke smiled. “How could I forget?”
“A fortuitous night, indeed,” Catherine said dryly, thanking her lucky stars for her quick-thinking friend.
Oliver coughed into his hand again. “Oh, well, jolly good.” He turned to the Duke. “Would you care to join us for tea, Your Grace?”
