Page 17 of His Forbidden Duchess
Her stomach turned at his arrogance, but she offered him a soft, admiring smile. “Absolutely, My Lord. Such brilliance is rare,” she murmured, her voice laced with faux admiration.
As they continued to talk, Eloise applied all the techniques Felix had taught her: fluttering her lashes when he spoke, tilting her head slightly when he made observations, and most importantly,notcorrecting him, irrespective of how utterly wrong he was.
Each small gesture, each smile, seemed to draw Mortcombe further into her web. His attention continued gravitating towards her, his gaze lingering longer each time, and she felt the thrill of the victory that was nearly in her grasp.
Mortcombe leaned closer, clearly enjoying her feigned adoration. “You know, Lady Eloise, I find it rare to meet a young woman so appreciative of the finer things in life.”
She gave him a demure smile. “Listening to you speak has truly been a pleasure.”
Mortcombe grinned, looking utterly self-satisfied. Eloise resisted the urge to roll her eyes but silently congratulated herself for handling the conversation with the practiced charm Felix had imparted. It was working—Mortcombe’s interest was growing, and Eloise was now firmly on his mind.
Just then, the music swelled, providing her with an excuse to end the conversation gracefully. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, the performance is starting,” she said, casting a glance toward the stage. “We should not miss it.”
Mortcombe nodded. “Indeed, Lady Eloise. We will speak more later.”
Eloise exhaled, relieved that she had managed to keep her temper in check. Despite the absurdity of it all, her plan was starting to take shape.
Felix was right. As ridiculous as Mortcombe is, he is falling for it.
Felix leaned against a marble column, his gaze locked on Eloise and Lord Mortcombe. The way Mortcombe leaned in, eager andself-satisfied, stirred a familiar jealousy within him that coiled like a spring. But why should he be jealous? It was only Eloise!
Perhaps it is because my needs have not been met, nor will they be met for some time to come.
He sighed with resignation, just as Percy strolled up, his eyes darting between Felix’s scowl and the scene unfolding before them.
“Why are you staring Mortcombe down like that?” Percy asked, then followed Felix’s gaze further. “Ah, that makes sense.”
Felix shot him a glare, irritation bubbling to the surface. “What do you mean?”
Percy rolled his eyes, his expression one of playful exasperation. “You know exactly what I mean. The way you are watching her like a hawk—it is painfully obvious.”
“I am merely observing,” Felix said, trying to sound indifferent, but a note defensiveness slipped into his retort.
“Of course. Observing. Right.” Percy leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I just had a run-in with Lady Wellington. She asked about you. Seems she was rather disappointed about some arrangement you two had?”
Felix had all but forgotten about it. Ordinarily, it would have been the only thing on his mind. Something had changed, buthe could not identify what, how or why. But a bet was a bet, and Felix had every intention of winning it.
Felix waved his hand dismissively. “I am not interested. Not in her or anyone else.” It was, of course, a temporary decision, but he wanted to sound convincing. He wouldn’t allow Percy to think it was anything other than his own decision.
Percy arched an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Oh really? Because I saw another of your past conquests flitting about here too. Lady… Livingstone, I think? You could have quite the evening, you know.”
Lady Livingstone was the epitome of beauty by general standards. Yet, much to his surprise, she did nothing to stir desire in him tonight.
Felix’s jaw tightened. “I will not be entertaining ladies for some time,” he stated firmly, trying to sound resolute.
Percy burst into laughter, his disbelief evident. “Right, naturally! That is what they all say after a night at the gaming hell. You will be back to charming your way through the season in no time. You cannot simply stop, Felix, it is ingrained in you.”
Felix shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you think I am joking? I mean what I say.”
“Come now,” Percy said, still chuckling. “You are telling me you would rather listen to Mortcombe butcher the history of Mozart than enjoy an eager woman’s company?”
Felix’s eyes flickered back to Eloise, who was now giggling at something Mortcombe had said. “I am not just watching him. I am ensuring he does not make an utter fool of himself… or her.”
“Is that all?” Percy was not convinced. “I remind you that is Jeremy’s sister. I cannot imagine how he would respond if you two were to?—”
“It is nothing like that!” Felix raked his fingers through his hair, knowing he was going to have to tell Percy something, or he would never hear the end of it.
