How To Seduce A Duke

Mary swallowed deeply. Oh no.

His eyes seemed to widen to twice their earlier size. “Y-you are the statue from the garden!”

Chapter 5

“A statue?” Mary blinked and raised her eyebrows for effect. Despite the inconvenience of her insides swirling like dried leaves on a windy day, she at least had had a few moments to prepare for Blackstone’s attack.

It had been fairly easy, in fact, to gauge the Black Duke’s intent once she’d glimpsed the excited movement in his eyes.

All she’d had to do was imagine the absolute worst thing that could be said or done, which she oft did in any situation anyway, and that was precisely what the brute did.

“What ever could you mean by that, Your Grace?” Mary tossed a confused expression to Lord Wetherly, hoping to gain his support.

The duke seemed to realize her game. “Do you claim you do not understand me, Miss Royle? I am convinced you know precisely what I speak of.”

Mary shrugged and remained silent.

“I was certain I had seen you-and I had-in the Underwoods’ garden.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace.” Mary reached out and gave him a placating pat on the arm. “But I am not acquainted with the Underwoods.”

“You were there…and in a toga.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “For some reason or another you had powdered your hair and body and were posing as a piece of garden statuary.”

“Posing as statuary? What nonsense is this?” Lady Upperton hooked Mary’s hand and reeled her closer. “Do tell me. What is His Grace speaking of, dear?”

Mary forced a hard laugh. “Oh goodness. He is making a jest, Lady Upperton.” She laughed, softly this time, and looked up timidly through her lashes at the viscount. “Lord Wetherly, you should have mentioned that your dear brother was so dryly diverting.”

The duke’s eyes flashed, and she knew her strategy of remaining one small chess move ahead of him was trying what modicum of patience he possessed. “Miss Royle, I know what I saw.”

“Rogan, you are clearly mistaken.” Lord Wetherly stared pleadingly at his brother.

“It was you.” The duke’s tone grew deeper as his ire increased. “Though you may wish our company to believe this eve marked our first exchange of glances, it was not, and I demand you admit it, Miss Royle.”

What option had she now?

She could not lie.

Mary raised her eyes and peered up at Lord Wetherly.

Even he was waiting for a response that would put his brutish brother at ease again.

And then it suddenly occurred to her what to say. “How silly of me. You are absolutely correct, Your Grace.”

The duke’s chest seemed to puff out a bit at her admission. “Do you see, Quinn, even she admits it.”

Lady Upperton pulled Mary closer to her again. “You were disguised as garden statuary, dear?”

Mary released a strained laugh again. “His Grace is correct about his assertion that we’ve exchanged glances before this night.”

Several guests beyond their intimate circle hushed and gathered near to hear Mary’s confession.

“It was this very day, in fact.” Mary looked the duke straight in the eye and smiled confidently at him. “Do you not recall it, Your Grace? Why, you nearly ran me down in Oxford Street earlier.” She glanced at Lord Wetherly and then Lady Upperton. “I own, ’twas only due to Lord Wetherly’s quick thinking that my sisters and I were not trampled by His Grace’s massive horse.”

“Good heavens!” Lord Wetherly reached out and clasped a hand around Mary’s upper arm. “That was you and your sisters? I do so apologize. Are you completely unharmed?”

“I am,” she replied sweetly.

He was touching her. The heat of his fingers pressed through his gloves and warmed her skin. Though she didn’t wish for him to release her, Mary could not resist looking down at where their skin met. She wanted to remember this moment. Remember the feel of him.

Lord Wetherly followed her gaze and immediately returned his hands to his sides. “Forgive me, Miss Royle.”

“Think nothing of it, Lord Wetherly.” Mary smiled coyly at him again. “I admit, I am greatly flattered by your kind concern.”

Mary had the impression that the duke would have raised his head and howled at his defeat if it would have been socially acceptable.

A triumphant smile itched to show itself upon Mary’s lips. But she knew the favorable footing she enjoyed now could be lost at any moment, so she began to plot her escape.

Just where were Anne and Elizabeth?

Lady Upperton pursed her tiny lips. “Dear, you and your sisters never mentioned your sweep with doom this day.”

“There was no need. We were rescued from all harm by Lord Wetherly, here.” Mary extended her hand to him. “At the time I am afraid I was too shaken to address you properly. So I shall do it now. Please accept my thanks, Lord Wetherly, for saving our lives.”

“It was my duty, Miss Royle…and my pleasure.” The viscount elbowed his brother. “Now my brother has something he wishes to say to you. Is that not correct, Rogan?”

“Miss Royle.” The duke cleared his throat. “I beg your forgiveness for the near-accident this day. I am greatly relieved that you and your sisters were not harmed in any way.” He leaned closer to her. “Might I suggest the use of a carriage in the future?”

“You might, Your Grace, but since we do not own a carriage, and hackneys are too dear to hire with any regularity, my sisters and I will likely continue to walk whenever possible. I am sure you understand.”

He cocked his brow at her then, and his eyes brightened, as if he did suddenly understand, though, from the curious expression on his face, Mary was not at all sure what he might have gleaned from her innocent comment.

She leaned toward the great beast, although it made her heart thud hard in her chest to do so. She held the tone of her voice as low as possible. “Might I suggest keeping your mind focused in the future, so the lives of others are not imperiled?”

The duke grimaced at her, then exhaled loudly. “I think I shall succumb to nausea if I do not locate a glass of wine. Perhaps the ladies might also enjoy a libation as well?”

“I would adore a sip or two of wine, Your Grace.” Lady Upperton unfurled her fan and swished it across her powdered face.

“Very good, Lady Upperton.” The duke looked to Mary. “And you, Miss Royle?”

“No, thank you, Your Grace.”

The Black Duke started for the refreshment table, but before he had traveled a full step, he turned around. “Quinn, will you assist me?”

The sheen of disappointment was clear in the young viscount’s eyes. “Do excuse me, ladies. I shall return promptly.” He bowed politely-something the grand oaf had not troubled himself to do-then followed his brother through the heaving crowd.

The moment the two gentlemen were no longer discernable amongst the collection of dark dress coats, Lady Upperton’s manner changed abruptly. “Mary, Lord Wetherly mightn’t have realized you were lying, but I certainly did.”

Mary frowned. “I didn’t lie. In actuality, I was very careful to tell the truth.”