Page 8 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
The maid was dismissed, the door to the library closed, and the Duke fixed his eyes on her.
“You may drop your act now, whoever you are,” he commanded.
“WhoeverIam?” Eleanor’s voice rose. The last three years had rid her of her rigid politeness, even if fear reminded her to speakproperly. “You are the Duke of Everdawn! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“For a liar, you certainly feel quite entitled to the truth.” He raised a brown eyebrow at her.
She was aware of just how little power she had. She had escaped from the convent, snuck into a party she had not been invited to and lied to the host.
“You knew I was lying.”
He nodded once. “I know every town, village, and city from the South to the North of England. I would have heard if a Lord Maplewood died and left behind a widow. Especially if they were my neighbors.”
The casual authority he spoke with made her feel something she had not felt in years—perhaps not ever, for no man had sparked such excitement within her. Suchfear.
This was not the fear Lord Belgrave had evoked within her in that chamber hours ago. Nor was it the fear that had seized her heart when Sister Martha raised that evil cane to strike her.
No, this was the fear of…
No. This was different. This was the dizzying, gut-pulling fear of being seen by a man. Desired, perhaps. And wanting him back.
She hated it. And yet she could not stop staring at his mouth.
“You are rather bold for a trespasser,” he murmured, taking a step forward.
Eleanor stiffened.
“Is this where you tell me more lies?” he asked, his voice a little lower, the space between them crackling.
“I’m not here to harm anyone.”
“Mm. No,” he said softly, eyes sweeping down her face. “That’s not what I asked. I can think of far more enjoyable ways to make you surrender the truth. Or more.”
Her heart slammed once, hard. She felt it all through her body—his words, his nearness, the weight of his gaze.
She couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at her like that. Like he saw through her… and wanted her anyway.
But she couldn’t afford this. Not now.
“I need to speak with Charlotte,” she said, trying to make her voice steady, trying not to notice how close he’d drawn. “It is a matter of great importance.”
He smiled faintly, almost predatorily. “More important than telling me who’s roaming around my house in disguise?”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “Your sister is in danger.”
That did it. His smile dropped. A glint of steel entered his gaze.
“And what danger would that be?” he asked quietly.
“I won’t say more unless I speak with her directly,” Eleanor said. “But I swear on my life, I am not your enemy.”
He stared at her for a long moment, the heat between them flickering into something sharper.
“Well,” he said, at last. “You’re an intruder in my house. You’ve lied, and you’re hiding something. Shall I drag you back into the ballroom and ask the guests if they know who you are? See who steps forward? Or, perhaps, who begins to panic?”
Heavens… what if her parents were present?
“No,” she whispered. “I just need to speak with Charlotte.Please. I do not have time to waste.”
