Page 5 of The Duke's Twin
“I assume you mean the little blonde creature? She’s a delight. I wish you all the happiness—”
Justin snorted. “Of course you do, brother. Now, swear to me you will keep Miss Livingston occupied over the next several days while I get acquainted with Miss Lydia.” Justin’s hopeful expression made his mouth curve in a way that had Miles nodding in agreement. He may have been only fifteen minutes younger, but Miles would deny Justin nothing he if had the power to give it.
“Do not worry yourself. I’ll tend to the sister as needed.” He glanced over at Miss Livingston. The young lady was perusing a stack of books he’d left on a table, her hands tracing the spines of several of his favorite novels. She took the time to rearrange them in order of publication. A well-read lady—he rather liked that. Her figure was pleasing enough, with wide hips and full breasts that would fill his hands. Her hair was a shiny chestnut, a color sometimes disparaged in favor of blonde curls like those of her sister. Miles pictured tunneling his fingers through her hair, grasping the strands and tugging her head back for his kiss…
He shook himself.What a silly notion. He couldn’t contemplate bedding Miss Livingston. She was pleasant looking, in a subtle way. She might even be considered beautiful, but he couldn’t become involved with an innocent young lady like her. Lusty widows were more to his tastes. No expectations, no consequences, and most importantly, no wedding bells.
Still, he had found Rebecca rather pleasant at dinner. She conversed well when the topics proved interesting, but she seemed to slip away into her own thoughts when the topics turned dull. It was something he did on occasion. But he’d spent much of dinner watching her and her family. It was clear that Lydia was the favorite child, both for their mother and their father. Whenever their mother had made a disparaging comment, he’d seen hurt in Rebecca’s eyes. As a second brother to a duke, he’d seen favoritism for Justin over him. He remembered all too well the sting of that. And he hadn’t liked seeing Rebecca suffer it one bit. She was undeserving of any criticism.
“Becca!” Mrs. Livingston whispered loudly, calling Miles’s attention back to the young woman.
Miss Livingston spun around, an enchanting blush highlighting her cheeks. “Yes, Mama?”
“Why don’t you play the harp, dear, so Lydia can sing for Lord Wiltshire.”
She played the harp? That was interesting. Most young ladies focused on the pianoforte these days. His mother had played the harp, and he had loved listening to her.
“Yes, please play,” Miles encouraged, keeping up his pretense as the duke.
Rebecca seated herself at the instrument, and Lydia bent to whisper something to her. The sisters shared a smile, and the faint twist of Rebecca’s lips made her look cunning, intriguing…stunning.
Miles’s chest tightened. An almost blurry sense of warmth filled him, as if he’d had too much brandy. What would it be like if she ever smiled fully at him? He was damned sure in that moment that his knees might buckle. What the devil was wrong with him? He could bed a dozen women in London right now, but this innocent creature seated at the harp had possessed his attention and awakened desires in him that he didn’t fully understand.
Rebecca’s bright-blue eyes locked with his as she lifted her hands to the strings. The dark-blue gown she wore seemed to glint and wink with a thousand tiny stars as the netting over her skirts shimmered. It was a simple dress, but one that she wore to great effect. Subtly beautiful, just like she was.
Then she began to play. It was like nothing he’d ever seen. The way she lost herself to the music, her graceful fingers moving expertly over the instrument, the delicate plucking creating a waterfall of glorious sound. The firelight danced off the diamonds in her gown’s bodice and made her eyes sparkle as she focused on the music, bringing back memories of his youth. He’d loved to spend summer nights outside lying in the meadow on a woolen blanket and watching the stars flicker overhead as he and Justin talked deep into the night about the things only brothers could talk about. That had been so long ago, before they’d grown up and had to live their own lives.
Miles wanted that intimacy again, only now he wanted it with someone else, and he wanted it to include soft kisses and whispered sighs. He stared at Rebecca, unable to believe that she could bring up such emotions from deep within him. He was not a man who indulged in such feelings. Their eyes met again for a brief second, robbing him of his next breath.
Dear God…
He could watch her play for days, years even. Her soul was laid bare as she indulged in the passion of her heart, and she had no idea what she was doing to him. He pictured her fingers stroking him, her lips locked on his as they…
He shook the lustful thoughts from his mind, which was not easily done. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, so lovely. Her passion breathed life into her face and held him enraptured. Would she look just as lovely beneath him, her eyes glimmering with sated pleasure, her body shivering with aftershocks? He wanted to know—hadto know.
It was only when the music stopped that he realized he hadn’t heard Lydia’s voice at all. There had been only Rebecca’s music, lingering in his head now with its haunting melodies and visions of her bright eyes alight with passion.
“Bravo, ladies!” Justin was on his feet, striding over to them as he clapped.
“Yes.” Miles stood, regaining his composure. “Beautifully done.”
It was said for both ladies, but his thoughts were only for Rebecca. For a long moment she met his stare, her blue eyes as bold and brave as any man’s, yet fiery in the way only a woman’s could be.
Had he misjudged her? Had the quiet, submissive woman he’d glimpsed at dinner been a ruse? Was there a tigress beneath that subdued demeanor?
Justin can have his little Lydia to his heart’s content. I will unravel the mystery of Miss Livingston.
3
Miles dragged his hands through his hair as he paced the length of his bedchamber. The events of earlier in the afternoon were unbelievable. He had seduced the virginal Miss Livingston in a gazebo during a rainstorm. Dallying with innocents wasn’t like him.
But Christ, he’d wanted Rebecca. There was a side of her that was wild and wanton, and yet she was also so bloody sweet. He’d never been with someone like her. Every kiss and caress had elicited an excited shiver in her. The way she’d reacted to her first climax had overwhelmed him. She was fascinating like no other woman, and it wasn’t merely due to her passionate responses. She was amusing, devilish, and delightful when she wasn’t under her mother’s scrutiny. She could laugh at herself and enjoy being teased. And she seemed to love a good challenge.
Never had a game of shuttlecock aroused him before. Yet playing with her had had him both panting and hard. Her need to match him stroke for stroke would undoubtedly carry over into the bedchamber. Even though he was well known as a rake, his other interests in life remained unchanged, and Becca seemed to share those interests. Riding, reading, and playing—whether it be games or teasing. He’d always preferred women who were lighthearted and enjoyed life, rather than arrogant ladies who required drama and tension in their lives to keep them entertained.
The thought of going back to London and seeking out his usual bed partners and haunting gambling tables for amusement now seemed rather unappealing. Lounging in bed with Becca, reading a Gothic novel to her and making love to her bathed in the warmth of morning sunlight—thatappealed to him.
“This is madness,” he muttered to himself. “I cannot be falling for her. She doesn’t even know that I’m Miles, not Justin. And certainly not after such a short time.” His brother had been right to test Lydia’s affections by this charade, but Miles hadn’t expected to encounter a need to reveal the truth about his own identity. What if he dared to fall in love with Rebecca only to be spurned by her because he’d lied to her about who he really was, regardless of the motivations? The idea bloody terrified him. And nothing had ever scared him before, not like this.
