Page 12 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
Leave, she begged herself.Push him aside. Fight your way out.
She tried to listen to that instinctual voice, but she was frozen in place, mesmerized by the stranger with the growl in his voice and the flash of steel in his eyes. She would not apologize for her bold speech, not when he was the one who had her cornered.
At her silence, he stepped back. “This is no place for you, My Lady.”
“And how do you know that?” There was a hiss in her voice, frustrated at being read so easily.
“For one, you are almost as pink as the gown beneath your cloak,” he noted. “And two, a confident lady does not fidget as terribly as you do. Your body trembles as if it were cold, but it is not. Not really. Is it, My Lady?”
She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to counter that she was cold despite him being right. She shivered from…
Her thoughts screeched to a halt when realization dawned on her. A pleasant warmth spread through her. Yet she did tremble, her body set on edge in a heated way by the Duke’s imposing presence.
He continued, “My guess is that somebody arranged this for you. Somebody who likely thought it would be good for you, but you are not so convinced. I would wager you felt obliged to see their plan through.”
Grinding her teeth, Penelope only stared back at him coolly, not willing to deny or confirm his very accurate guess. But he didn’t need her answer, for he eased her anxiety a moment later.
“I will not tell Finley Stewart anything.”
The tightness in her chest loosened for a moment… until his words snaked out into the dark night once more.
“Run along, little dove. You are a good girl, I can see that.” Her breath caught as he suddenly drew close again, leaning into her. “But good girls are always the most wicked when no one is watching.”
Her mind went blank for a moment, and she could only stare at him as he cocked his head in the direction of the street.
Blushing harder, Penelope ducked her head and hurried back down the pathway of Julian Gray’s house, her so-called gift abandoned, her heart racing.
She fled back to her carriage, ignoring her driver’s friendly inquiry about her night.
“Please, just take me back to Langwaite Manor,” she ordered, sinking onto the bench.
Only then did she let her mask drop and let her breaths come out short in her true panic—and exhilaration.
When she craned her neck to look out the back window at the escort’s house, the space beneath the lantern over the back door was empty.
ChapterFour
“Oh, Your Grace,” golden-haired Julian Gray said brightly, slight sarcasm lacing the title, once he’d opened the door.
The flick of reins sounded faintly from the street, following the rushed footsteps, and Edmund knew Lady Penelope had left.
Good.
He didn’t need to further waste his time.
He sighed as Gray had taken his very indulgent time to answer.
Blue eyes shone mischievously. “You did not have to give a lady’s name to seek me out.” Julian leaned against the doorjamb, his mouth pulled up into a half grin. “Unless you are indeed here to seek my particular services.”
Edmund rolled his eyes and gave his old acquaintance a withering look. “Do not flatter yourself, Gray. You know you are not my type.”
“I could be if you were only bold enough to try. Plenty of men?—”
Edmund shook his head. “Just let me in, Julian.”
“All right, all right. No need to bite, Your Grace. Well, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind it that much if you?—”
“Gray,” Edmund hissed.
