Page 40 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
Russell looked unconvinced; Watford narrowed his eyes, as if he were trying to find some hidden meaning in Colin’s words. Colin sighed. “Nothing untoward either.”
“Neither of us said that,” Russell said.
Colin inclined his head towards Watford. “He was thinking it.”
“You have exhibited a pattern of behaviour,” Watford said. “I was drawing a logical conclusion based on what I know of your character.”
Regrettably, Watford was somewhat correct about the matter. While it was true that Colin had notdoneanything untoward with Lady Clarissa, he could not say that his thoughts about her were pure and innocent either.
“You ensured that I could be happy,” Russell said, his voice softening. “I will forever be grateful for that. You are flawed, but you are still a good man. You deserve to be happy and to have a wife who loves you.”
“I am happy,” Colin said.
“Are you?” Watford asked.
Colin downed his drink in a single gulp. Unbidden, Lady Clarissa’s image came once more to him. He dared to let himself imagine that wedding night. She would be shy, her face flushed pink as it so often was, but eager. He imagined her bright eyes shining in the candlelight as he fulfilled that image he had seen in his dream, removing her stays and lifting her chemise away until she stood naked before him.
“Yes,” Colin said, his throat tight. “I promise that I am happy.”
But he would have been happier if he had been alone with Lady Clarissa, whispering Venus St. Clair in her ear while holding her naked body against his own.
Chapter 20
During breakfast, a letter arrived. Clarissa’s mother took the message, carefully unwrapping the ribbon from around it, and read it silently. Her expression brightened. “We have all been invited for tea in Sydney Gardens by Lady Matilda,” she said.
Jane, who had been in the midst of eating a muffin, suddenly began to cough around it. She swallowed hard and let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Allof us?”
Lady Bentley’s eyes narrowed, and Clarissa just knew that her mother was likely thinking something very cruel about Jane and her mother. “Yes,” Clarissa’s mother said, her tone sickly sweet. “Lady Matilda was quite explicit that we have all been invited.”
“Sydney Gardens is beautiful,” Aunt Frances said. “I have not had tea there in some time. It would be lovely to visit once again.”
Clarissa wondered if Lady Matilda’s mischievous nephew would be there. She was careful to keep her expression blank and calm as she thought about the list the night before and the sensations which had accompanied it. Would she have the courage to ask His Grace if he happened to know where she might obtain the poetry of the notorious Venus St. Clair?
That seemed somewhat unlikely. After all, Clarissa was the sort of young lady who fled a man who tried to kiss her. She could not possibly imagine a scenario where she would be so brazen as to ask for that specific author from anyone.
But still, she liked to think that she could be brazen in her pursuit of forbidden knowledge. She liked to think that she might be able to scandalise His Grace, the notorious rake. Somehow, the fact that hewasa rake seemed to matter less with each passing day.
“We must prepare at once,” Clarissa’s mother announced, despite tea being several hours away.
Aunt Frances laughed. “Surely, we can wait a few hours.”
Lady Bentley clenched her jaw. Clarissa recognized her mother’s strained smile. It was the same one which Clarissa herself often received when she displeased her mother at a social function.
Tea at Sydney Gardens,she mused.
Clarissa desperately hoped that Colin was there. Just thinking of his frost-blue eyes sent a delighted fissure through her. She ought to stay away from him. Rationally, her desire to see him made no sense. He was rakish and did not wish to wed. Clarissa did not love him and had no desire to wed, despite her mother’s recent plans and schemes to make her wed—
Colin.She was thinking of him asColinand notHis Grace. Clarissa frowned. Did she really want to think through the significance of that shift in her mind? From His Grace, the Duke of Hartingdale, to justColin?
She probably ought to, but not yet.
As the hired hack came to a halt hours later, Clarissa’s breath seemed to halt in her very lungs. Waiting at the entrance of the gardens was Colin—His Grace—
He stood beside Lady Matilda and Lord Watford. Clarissa’s mind whirled. Here was her chance to play the role of the brazen heroine, seeking to understand the root of her desire. Instead, she felt frozen to the seat.
There was a rustle of fabric as her cousin Jane leaned near her. “Clarissa, you are staring.”
Clarissa was sure that her cousin meant well, but as soon as the realisation sank in that other people noticed her staring, Clarissa’s face grew hot. She inwardly cursed herself for blushing so easily. Her mother was wonderful at hiding her own emotions. She never looked embarrassed or flustered. Why could she also posses that natural poise?
