Beguiling The Duke. Eva Shepherd

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      ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ She thrust the tightly clasped vase in his direction.

      His fingers lightly touched hers as he removed the vase from her grip, setting off a decidedly unfamiliar reaction in her body. Her hands tingled and burned, as if she had held them too close to the fire. A strange sensation raced up her arm, across her chest, hitting her in the heart, causing it to pound in a wild, untamed manner.

      He replaced the vase on its pedestal and turned back to face her. Her head continued to spin, her heart continued to dance—but surely that had nothing to do with his touch or his stunning good looks. It had to be due entirely to her whirling entrance.

      ‘Miss van Haven, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Alexander FitzRoy, Duke of Knightsbrook, and may I present my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Knightsbrook?’

      Rosie bobbed another curtsey, inhaled a quick breath and turned to face his silver-haired mother, who was wearing the strangest expression she had ever seen.

      While Lord Ashton was giving every appearance of being unaffected by her unusual entrance, the same could not be said of his mother. Her contorted mouth was presumably meant to be smiling, but a frown kept taking over, causing her lips to twist and turn as if pulled by a puppet master’s invisible strings.

      It seemed she might have to work a bit harder to shock Lord Ashton, but the Dowager was going to be easy prey.

      It was time to have some fun.

      ‘Pleased to meet you, Your Grace.’ She reached down, grabbed the Dowager’s hand and pumped it in a manly handshake.

      Those invisible strings gave her mouth a firm tug. The frown won, and the Dowager’s nostrils flared as if she could smell something unpleasant.

      Rosie bit the inside of her upper lip to stop herself from laughing as the Dowager finally forced her lips into a smile, her face contorting as if she were undergoing a painful dental procedure.

      ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss van Haven,’ the Dowager replied, trying discreetly to rub the hand that Rosie had just crushed.

      Rosie controlled the giggle bubbling up inside her. ‘I’m really sorry about nearly breaking your vase—but it looks like it’s a really old one, so perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered.’

      All three turned and looked at the offending porcelain ornament, now safely restored to its pedestal.

      ‘Yes, it is rather old...’ The Dowager sniffed. ‘Ming Dynasty, I believe.’

      A small giggle escaped Rosie’s lips before she had a chance to stop it. ‘Oh, as old as that? Well, then, it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d broken it. It would have given you a good excuse to replace it with something nice and new.’

      The Dowager’s eyes grew wide, her tight lips compressed further, and she signalled to a footman to remove the vase, as if concerned that Rosie was about to commit a wanton act of vandalism.

      They waited in silence as the footman gently picked up the vase and carried it reverently away in his gloved hands. When he’d safely left the room the Dowager exhaled slowly.

      ‘I’m afraid you’ve arrived a little earlier than we were expecting, Miss van Haven. We usually greet our guests formally at the entrance,’ the Dowager said.

      ‘Oh, I like to take people by surprise. You never know what mischievous acts you’ll catch them in.’ Rosie winked at the Dowager and received a wide-eyed look of disapproval in response.

      ‘Yes, quite...’ she said, flustered.

      Rosie looked over at the Duke, hoping to see an equally disapproving look. Instead he stared back at her with unflinching dark eyes, neither smiling nor frowning. Rosie’s grin died on her lips and heat rushed to her cheeks.

      What was happening? She never blushed. And she shouldn’t be blushing now. She had to remain in character if she was to convince this man that she was a most unsuitable duchess. Just because he was sublimely handsome it did not mean she should let him unnerve her. She had to remember who he was and what he wanted to do. He wanted to marry Arabella to get his hands on her father’s money.

      ‘I imagine there’s been a lot of mischief in these halls,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light-hearted to disguise the disquiet the Duke was arousing deep inside her. ‘I’m sure those ancestors could tell a tale or two.’ She threw her arms up in the air and gestured wildly to the paintings lining the wall.

      The Dowager took a step back to avoid Rosie’s flying arms, while the Duke continued to stare down at her, his face implacable. She lowered her arms. It seemed that bad behaviour wasn’t going to upset his demeanour. She would have to try another means of attack.

      ‘Judging by all those portraits, your family has been wealthy for many generations. I suppose you realise that my father was born in poverty? His father was a miner, and his father’s father was a mule driver.’

       Let’s see how the snobby aristocrats react to that!

      The Duke nodded slowly. ‘Yes, your father’s history is well-documented. And he is to be commended for rising so quickly from such humble beginnings to become one of the wealthiest men in America. He’s obviously an enterprising man and clearly believes in hard work.’

      Rosie fought not to grimace. Was nothing going to annoy this man? Surely he couldn’t be that rare entity, a member of the British aristocracy who wasn’t a snob? Or was he just blinded by the thought of Arabella’s substantial dowry?

      ‘You’re right. He does believe in hard work—in earning money rather than expecting a hand-out.’

      Hopefully this Duke wouldn’t be able to miss her thinly veiled disapproval at his plans to marry Arabella for her money.

      ‘Another thoroughly commendable trait.’

       Damn. Either he didn’t understand that he had just been insulted, or he didn’t care.

      ‘It’s a shame your father couldn’t accompany you this weekend,’ the Dowager said. ‘I was looking forward to meeting him in person.’

      ‘No, he’s too busy back in America.’

      Making the money you’re so desperate for.

      ‘But meeting me is just like meeting him. I’m a chip off the old block, as they say.’

      ‘Do they? How delightful...’ the Dowager said through pinched lips.

      Rosie supressed a smile at the Dowager’s discomfort. A seed of doubt had definitely been planted in her mind after Rosie’s entrance and behaviour. Now all she had to do was water that seed with continued bad behaviour and watch it grow until the FitzRoys realised they couldn’t possibly countenance this marriage and sent her on her way.

      Alexander almost felt sorry for his mother. This peculiar American woman was most definitely not what she had expected—of that there could be no doubt. But it seemed the thought of Mr van СКАЧАТЬ