Page 3 of The Duke and the Widow
“I don’t believe we have been introduced, my lady,” the duke said. His voice did things to her. It was deeper than she had expected, especially given that he was around her age.
“Lady Preston, meet His Grace, the Duke of St. Alban’s,” Lady Ockham said.
He took her hand in his, and he stirred something in her insides. She brushed off the reaction as purely physical as it would appear by the look of him that he would indeed suit her tastes. His tall, taut form was enough to make any woman swoon, aside from her. She would never swoon. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”
She didn’t have a doubt in her mind he was likely the one she would select to enjoy the fortnight with, if he were amenable, and as long as he didn’t do something idiotic like tell her he was looking for his perfect duchess or some other nonsense.
“You as well, Your Grace. It is good to have you join us.”
She glanced to each side and noticed that the rest of the group had left them alone, moving on to other conversations.
“I only hope my manners are passable, given that I have spent little time out in society.”
She grinned at him. “Well, even if they aren’t, no one shall correct you. Given that you are a duke.”
He shrugged, with every bit of the haughty air that one would expect from a duke. “Then can I count on you to tell me so?”
She gave him an overdramatic fake curtsy. “If that is what my duke commands.”
He stiffened his shoulders and took an even stuffier stance than before. “It is.” Then he flashed her a wide grin.
The man was too handsome for his own good. Up close, she could tell his dark hair was certain to be silky to the touch. He caught her gaze, and his piercing light blue eyes were even more intense set against his dark, chiseled features. He was all hard lines, and the shadows from the candlelit room made him appear almost dangerous, even though she already knew better from their brief banter.
His finely tailored evening kit left little to the imagination regarding how rippled his muscles might be beneath his clothing. He wasn’t one of the gentlemen who had to add padding to his garments to fill out his breeches and coats.
The Duke of St. Albans was everything she wanted in a short-term bed partner, as long as he wasn’t in attendance to take a bride. Hopefully, since he was a tad on the young side to consider marriage, luck would be on her side.
“What made you decide to join us for the coming fortnight, Your Grace? It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you haven’t attended many society events and have never attended a season.”
He raised his chin, and the intensity of his gaze caused heat to pool between her thighs. He was going to drive her to distraction, to be certain.
“I came here to meet you, my lady.”
She choked on nothing but air. Once she recovered, she replied, “Excuse me. What did you just say?”
He took a step closer so there was only a matter of inches between their bodies. “I believe our interests may align if what I have heard about you is true.”
It occurred to her that she should be offended, but from the way he looked at her, she couldn’t help but be more than a bit intrigued. “And what interests might those be?”
“The pleasurable kind,” he said, lowering his voice and clasping his hands behind his back.
Her thighs were damp, and she could already imagine what he would look like naked in her bed. “I guess we shall see if you meet my requirements.”
“And what are those?”
Dinner was announced, and she shifted her attention to the rest of the room. She was almost certain that if anyone noticed her talking to the duke, that they would assume they would be friendly while at the house party. She laughed to herself because they may very well be correct in their assumption.
“My lady?” He extended his arm to her to escort her to dinner.
She clasped it and the feel of his bicep confirmed her assumptions about what he might look like without all the layers of clothing that separated her from her prize.
“Are you going to answer my question?” he asked, leaning towards her, his hot breath warming the top of her ear.
“In due time, Your Grace.” She glanced up at him and smirked. She may want to explore such an arrangement with him, but she couldn’t make it easy for the man. Even a duke must work for things now and then.
Chapter 3
JamesTalbot,DukeofSt. Albans, had come to the Ockham house party for one reason, and one reason only. To meet the beautiful widow he had heard about from one of his friends and see if she might invite him to her bed. He had doubted if he made the right choice in attending at all, given that he wasn’t that thrilled about being at a society event.
