How To Seduce A Duke

She, however, was naught but an inexperienced country miss. Clearly, I am no match for him.

Mary stilled her step suddenly as a thought occurred to her. She peered into his eyes as he gazed down at her.

Or am I?

How adept is he in warding off the advances of an innocent? A little smile pulled upward at her lips.

Well, she decided, perhaps it was time to find out.

Rogan, feeling her delay, paused too. “Are you well?” he asked.

“Perfectly.” Mary smiled up at him.

For now I have the perfect plan.

One that you, given your nature, cannot possibly be prepared for.

One that would send the Black Duke running for his country house.

Yes, the seducer was about to become…the seduced.

Chapter 10

Courage. That was all she needed to regain control of her future with Quinn.

Sadly, though, as Rogan led her into the dining room toward the refreshment table, Mary knew she sorely lacked that important commodity.

“Odd.” Rogan was scanning the bustling room in earnest. “I do not see Quinn in here, either. I was sure he’d be fetching Lady Tidwell a libation.”

A glass of wine. Yes.

What did it matter if her constitution had little tolerance for spirits of any sort? The smallest amount had the power to make her all muddleheaded. But tonight, it might be just the thing to boost her bravery.

While Rogan was distracted with the task of peering through the crowd to locate his brother, Mary took the opportunity to extricate her arm from the duke’s steel-banded grasp.

“The night is mild and the house is very close this evening,” she told him. “Do you think it likely that he and Lady Tidwell stepped outside for air…as you, yourself, had earlier suggested we do?”

“Yes, perhaps so,” he murmured distractedly as his gaze flitted this way and that about the room.

“Shall we each collect a glass of wine and venture into the courtyard to join them?” She raised her brows, as if her suggestion had been innocently conceived.

Rogan turned and pinned her with his gaze. “Wine? Oh, quite right.” He started for a footman, who was circling the dining room balancing a silver tray filled with goblets of claret, but he stopped suddenly and turned around to look back at her.

“Your Grace? Would you like me to assist you?” She served him a gentle smile.

“Y-you will wait here for me, will you not?” The expression on his face seemed altogether too serious for the words he had spoken. “I shall return in but a moment.”

Mary tilted her head to the side and considered his peculiar reaction.

Did he really think that the moment he had turned his back to her she would dart off into the courtyard to woo Quinn? “I’ll not step from this spot, Your Grace. I promise you. I shall not leave.”

“Very good, Miss Royle.” His expression brightened.

Mary watched as he hurried through the throng to reach the footman, who was now on the farthest edge of the dining room.

What an odd gentleman.

Just then, her sisters appeared beside her.

“Such a dull gathering, is it not?” Elizabeth raised her own goblet of wine to her lips and took a sip. “When Lady Upperton mentioned quitting the musicale, I encouraged her to do so as soon as possible.”

“So, are you ready?” Anne quizzed. “Lady Upperton’s carriage already waits at the door.”

“Leave, now?” Mary glaced at Rogan just as he lifted two goblets from the footman’s silver tray. “Oh, no. I am not yet prepared to leave. I have yet to speak with Lord Wetherly.”

Anne leveled an annoyed look at her. “Well, do go and bid him farewell now, please-if you must.”

“Do, Mary.” Elizabeth raised her wineglass and gestured about the room. “There are no bachelors here. Look about. Only dreary married ladies and gentlemen.”

“See here, I can walk back to Berkeley Square. The night air is soft and warm this evening.” Mary flicked her fingers at each of her sisters. “So go ahead without me. Quit the musicale. I shall return home soon enough.”

“But we can’t leave without you,” Elizabeth said.

“Nonsense.” Mary reached out and snatched Elizabeth’s goblet from her, nearly spilling the half glass of wine that remained. “Go on.”

“You can’t walk all the way home at night-especially not in that gown. You, and it, will be ruined if you attempt it.” Anne was completely serious, for she folded her arms over her chest the way she always did when Mary proposed some indecorous course of action.

Mary looked up and her stomach muscles tensed. Rogan had paused momentarily to speak with their host, but he was only a few strides away now. He would return in an instant. “Do not fret, Anne. I shall ask Lord Wetherly, Lady Tidwell, and the duke to see me home. Off with you now. I shall be along soon enough.”

“Very well, then,” Anne amended. “I suppose your plan is reasonable enough.”

“Finally. Let us away.” Elizabeth took Anne’s hand and, without a look back, drew her toward the passage. Good eve, Mary.”

“Good eve,” she called back softly.

My plan is reasonable enough.

She grinned to herself. If they only knew.

Mary looked down at Elizabeth’s wineglass in her hand. Courage, she told herself, as she swallowed the claret in a single draught and slipped the empty goblet onto the tray of an unsuspecting footman passing by.

She knew, or thought she knew, exactly how to seduce the duke.

All she needed to do was pretend to be receptive to his roguish passes. Act as if she had suddenly set her cap at him.

Yes, all she needed was a little courage, and she’d have Rogan running for his rakish life.

She’d changed.

Rogan realized it the very moment he returned to Miss Royle’s side, having balanced two goblets of wine through a revolving gauntlet of the Harringtons’ horde of guests.

“Here you are, Miss Royle.” When he pressed the glass of wine into her hand, she lifted it quickly to her mouth. Her hand quivered fiercely.

She raised her gaze to his and thanked him for the wine. Though she smiled pleasantly and her countenance was the portrait of serenity, she seemed quite unable to stop her fingers from trembling.

For some reason, she was conspicuously anxious and tense, far more so than before.

He didn’t enjoy seeing her this way. Bloody hell, it was his fault. Her shaking made him almost regret toying with her earlier. Almost.

It was not as if he’d had a choice in the matter. He had a duty to protect his brother. His seductive words had been necessary to distract her and keep her thoughts solidly with him, rather than with his deuced marriage-minded brother.

Clearly, she was aware of his study of her. Had there been a japanned folding screen anywhere nearby, he was certain she would have ducked behind it for refuge.

Positioning her lace fan between them like a tempered shield, she flicked it hard, and it snapped open with a click.