How To Seduce A Duke

And then he gave her a furtive wink.

Mary stiffened, her resolve instantly renewed.

“Shall we go inside, Your Grace?” she replied excitedly. “I know Elizabeth is eager to tell everyone our joyous news.”

Rogan’s jaw tightened, and the corded muscles that ran the length of his neck tensed.

That was all she needed to see.

For now she knew with all certainty that she was ready for his game.

Ready to win it.

Chapter 14

Despite Mary’s best efforts to hurry along her betrothed so that she might catch up with Elizabeth to speak with her before reaching the Argyle Rooms, her sister’s excitement to share the glad tidings seemed to have imbued her with an unmatched lightness of step.

As they passed through a set of crimson folding doors, Mary finally slipped her arm from Rogan’s. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I would like to ask my sister to refrain from announcing our nuptials…until after your brother and the other heroes have been honored.”

Mary glanced up to see Elizabeth midway up the grand staircase ahead of them.

Lifting the hem of her gown from the floor, she started forward, belatedly pausing to toss a coquettish glance over her shoulder. “Please excuse me-my love.”

At first, both of his eyebrows shot toward his hairline, but then he returned an amused grin.

Mary hastened up the treads, finally catching Elizabeth at the top of the staircase. She grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her into a lounge at the head of the staircase.

At first, Mary was completely distracted by her surroundings. The lounge resembled a Grecian temple of old, complete with classical statues and Ionic columns for support.

Elizabeth tried to remove her hand from her grasp. Mary wrenched her gaze back to her sister. “You mustn’t say a word to anyone about what you heard. Promise me. Promise.”

“But why? Were I marrying a handsome, rich duke, I would stand in the middle of the Argyle Rooms and shout it to the ton.” She freed her hand. “And so should you. But if you won’t, I shall.”

“You can’t, Elizabeth.”

“Why not?”

“Because he has no wish to marry me, nor I him.”

Three vertical lines appeared between Elizabeth’s eyes. “I do not understand. I saw the special license. I know he means to marry you.” Elizabeth’s cheeks colored. “I saw it.”

“What do you mean, saw it?” Mary stared at her sister for several seconds. “Oh, no. No. I thought we were beyond all of this.”

“I still have the dreams, Mary. Only I no longer tell you and Anne about them. I know the two of you do not believe me, but I tell you, I can see the future unfold-and I saw you marry the Duke of Blackstone. You will become his wife, tonight.”

A high-pitched screech rode inside Mary’s laughter. Yes, it was true that sometimes Elizabeth did forecast events before they happened. But then, just as often, she was completely wrong about her so-called predictions. Why, one could just as easily flip a coin into the air and have the same degree of accuracy as her sister.

And this time, she had it all wrong.

Elizabeth pointed her index finger at Mary. “I saw that gown. When you married him, you were wearing that exact gown.”

“But you encouraged me to choose it. Do you not remember?”

“I do not deny influencing your choice of silk, or lace, or design. I did it because I had already dreamed of the gown. I already knew how special the gown would be. I had already dreamed of your wedding.”

Mary expelled a long sigh. “Elizabeth, I admit that there is a physical bond between me and Rog-the Duke of Blackstone. But it was a mistake.”

“No it wasn’t. It was meant to be. It was all meant to be.”

Mary grabbed her sister’s wrists and shook her. “I know you believe as much, but I do not, and I am asking you, as my sister, please do not speak of what you heard in the carriage. It is a game of nerves between me and the duke. Nothing more.” She pulled Elizabeth to her and hugged her tightly. “Please. I am begging you.”

When the two separated, Elizabeth nodded her head. “I will not tell anyone. Until the sun rises. But you will see, Mary, by then you will be the Duchess of Blackstone.”

Elizabeth’s confidence that Mary would soon wed Rogan did concern her, though she refused to admit it.

Elizabeth’s skill in influencing and persuading was quite developed and powerful. Because of her childlike enthusiasm and her sincerity, rarely did anyone realize her manipulation, however unintentional it might have been.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” exclaimed Lady Upperton. “How was your drive?”

The tiny, old woman stood in stark contrast next to tall, lean Lord Lotharian.

Lotharian bent as if bowing, but as he did so, he turned his head and whispered in her ear. “What of the shawl? Was it a match?”

“It was,” Mary whispered, then she raised her voice to a normal level for the benefit of those surrounding them. “Yes, Lady Upperton, the drive was quite uneventful. Such a lovely evening for the fete, don’t you agree?”

She leaned close to the old woman and dropped her voice to a hushed tone. “It seems I am to marry the Duke of Blackstone this eve, and you are to thank for securing Lotharian’s blessing.” Mary shot a glare to her guardian.

Lady Upperton exchanged concerned glances with Lotharian. “Yes, the air is quite soft for such an auspicious event as this.” She rose up on her toes and put her mouth to Mary’s ear. “Married this eve? Goodness me.”

“It is not but a lark,” Mary insisted. “Some wicked game Blackstone is playing with me to shatter my nerves. Lud, the man is despicable.”

Lotharian suddenly waved to someone in the distance. “Do forgive me. There is someone who owes me a rather large gambling debt, and I do not intend to allow him to slip away this time.” Like a hawk, Lotharian watched the gentleman move across the room. “Excuse me, please. He’s seen me. Mustn’t tarry now.”

Mary exhaled through her nose. Lotharian was leaving in the middle of their conversation? Unbelievable.

Lady Upperton took Mary’s arm and turned her away from Lotharian’s departing figure. “Despicable, say you? Bah, Mary, you are being far too harsh. Blackstone is much more suited to you than his brother, Lord Wetherly.”

“How can you say that?” Mary wrinkled her nose. “Wetherly is just the sort of man every woman dreams of marrying.”

“Yes, he is. Wetherly is a good man, a compassionate man, but a soft man, too. You are too impulsive for him, and he too malleable for you. Do you not prefer a man who can set your blood to boiling? I think you do. No, I know you do. I did, too.”

The old woman dropped back to the heels of her Turkish slippers and looked up at Mary.

Mary narrowed her eyes.

There was that curious look in Lady Upperton’s faded blue eyes again. Why, it was almost as if she really did know. Knew what passionate urges for Rogan lived in Mary’s body.

And in her heart.

“Lady Upperton, wherever do you get such notions?”

Suddenly Mary felt a hand at her waist and another at her elbow. “Miss Royle, the master of ceremonies has announced the first dance. May I have the pleasure?” Rogan asked.

“Well, I-”