An Unsuitable Duchess. Laurie Benson

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      Before she could utter a word Julian pushed her up against the door and kissed her. He needed her to help him forget the American right now. But the kiss felt all wrong—awkward and unpleasant. He closed his eyes, willing his body to react. Her lavender scent filled his nose.

      Why did it suddenly seem so overpowering and unappealing?

      He pulled his head back and looked down at her inviting expression. She was one of the most beautiful women in England. Wasn’t she? He’d used to think so. His brow wrinkled as he studied her delicate features. The outline of her breasts was not even enticing him to undress her.

      Helena slid her hand up his chest and combed her fingers through the hair by his temple. ‘We could retire to my bed.’

      That would be the ideal place. However, he could barely kiss her, let alone bed her. He turned away from her eager expression and glanced towards the settee. ‘This room will suit our purposes.’ He placed distance between them and took a seat.

      ‘Would you care for some brandy?’ she asked.

      His body was tied in knots of uncomfortable tension. If only he could relax... He nodded, and when she sat down he felt her right thigh push up against his left. He took a long draw from the glass. The warm liquid eased some of the tightness in his shoulders and he shifted his thigh so it was no longer pressing against her leg.

      She sketched circles on his knee with her finger and avoided his eyes. ‘You are quieter than usual. Have I done something to displease you?’

      ‘No. I find I have much on my mind today.’ He forced himself to smile reassuringly. It was not her fault his body wasn’t co-operating. He took another drink.

      ‘What has brought you here? You’ve never called on me during the day.’

      Unable to voice the real reason, he shrugged. ‘I needed to see you.’

      That seemed to satisfy her, and she attempted to hold back a smile. ‘I see.’

      She was giving him time to elaborate, but how could he? He had no idea why his body wasn’t responding to her. He kissed her again, more demandingly this time. In his mind he saw magnetic blue eyes and a warm smile—so he squeezed his eyelids tighter. He told himself that Helena could do amazing things with her mouth. It was no use. He wasn’t even remotely hard.

      Julian released her and drained the contents of his glass. The burn washed away the taste of their kiss. This visit had been intended to cure him of the affliction brought on by the American. Instead it had made him want her more. He was out of ideas on what to do. He needed advice.

      * * *

      Helena watched Lyonsdale swallow the remaining contents of his glass. When he was finished, the glass landed on the table with an audible thud.

      He stood rather abruptly. ‘Pardon me, but I have matters I need to attend to today.’

      Without giving her a chance to reply, he walked out of the room.

      Picking up his discarded glass, she ran her tongue over the rim where his lips had been. He never called on her during the day. Surely this was the sign she had been looking for. She had finally caught him. This time all her plotting and planning would land her the title she so richly deserved. He might even have left to make arrangements about asking for her hand.

      How she wished she could be there when her brother heard she would be the next Duchess of Lyonsdale! Her new title would trump his title of earl. Finally she would be above him. He and that puritanical wife of his would regret the day they had said they wanted nothing more to do with her when she had become obligated to marry Wentworth. They could beg all they wanted—they would never dine in Lyonsdale House!

      She poured herself a small splash of brandy. No longer would she have to sell items from her home to purchase this fine vintage. It was exhausting, hiding her financial situation. Soon that would all be a memory. Soon she would dine at Carlton House with the Prince Regent and his set while she wore the Carlisle diamonds.

      * * *

      Not far away, Katrina was preparing herself for an onslaught of advice as she was escorted down the hallway of Almack’s towards the assembly room where Madame de Lieven was waiting. When she’d received her note, requesting a meeting regarding a matter of the utmost importance, Katrina had been curious as to what the summons could possibly mean. Could she be about to enter into a lengthy discussion about the consequences of not following the strict rules of English etiquette? Or was Madame de Lieven about to inform Katrina in person that she was revoking the vouchers she had granted?

      Katrina wished she had someone besides her maid, Meg, to accompany her. Madame de Lieven was known to be quite commanding. There would have been safety in numbers.

      Stopping before a set of double doors, Katrina raised her chin and took a deep breath, reminding herself to remain polite no matter what the woman had to say.

      Light poured into the cavernous room from the large windows, brightening the white walls and gold trim. In the very centre of the room sat Madame de Lieven, at a white linen-covered table set for tea. Closing the book she had been reading, she motioned Katrina forward.

      ‘I am pleased you accepted my invitation, Miss Vandenberg. I realise it is a bit early in the day for making calls, and the venue is unusual, but I do have my reasons.’ She turned her head to the doorkeeper. ‘Please see that Miss Vandenberg’s maid is taken care of downstairs, Mr Willis, while we settle things here.’

      That didn’t sound very promising. As Katrina watched Meg trail Mr Willis out of the large ballroom she wished she could follow them. Shifting her gaze, she accepted the chair that was offered.

      Madame de Lieven was a woman of strong self-importance, who moved with ease among the leading political figures of London. She had a way of influencing the people around her. Katrina was certain she wanted to keep her eye on ‘the Americans’, and that was why she’d offered to sponsor Katrina and the Forresters at Almack’s.

      She handed Katrina a cup of tea with milk and sugar. ‘You intrigue me, Miss Vandenberg. I have noticed that you are a woman very much like me—a fish in a different pond.’

      Katrina steadied herself under Madame de Lieven’s intense gaze. ‘Forgive me, I don’t understand.’

      ‘Since I am also a foreigner here, I am aware that it is not always easy to adjust to English customs. You have shown yourself to be a woman of intelligence and diplomacy. Two qualities I admire.’

      ‘I see no reason to hide the knowledge I possess, but I try not to appear too forward in my opinions.’

      ‘You should be aware that you have impressed me enough that I believe together you and I could accomplish great things here.’

      Katrina’s brow furrowed. ‘I do not understand,’ she said again.

      Madame de Lieven placed her cup on the table. ‘Let us be American and speak plainly.’

      Katrina bristled at the insinuation. Anticipating what Madame de Lieven might say or do had kept Katrina amused since she had arrived in London. This time she sensed the next thing she said would cause her orderly life to be changed in ways that wouldn’t be pleasant.

      ‘I have noticed СКАЧАТЬ