How To Tempt A Duke. Madeline Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ he was indeed happy to see her. Her cheeks went warm.

      “So wonderful to have you back.” Lottie clasped her hands together and pressed them over her chest.

      “Forgive my previously disparaging attitude,” Eleanor said. “I didn’t understand how valuable a chance this was. If your generosity is still extended, I am eager to avail myself of and continue with the lessons.”

      Lottie waved at the air. “Oh, pish—there’s nothing at all to forgive. And of course I’ll continue with your lessons. I’d never have taken you on unless I truly wanted to instruct you.” She touched the underside of Eleanor’s chin, the way a mother might do a cherished child. “You are going to be magnificent, dear one. You need only to believe in yourself.”

      The touch and her proximity were startling, but the affection behind both was innocent. It served to endear Lottie to her all the more.

      “Shall we start with introductions?” Eleanor asked gently.

      Lottie gave an appreciative laugh. “By all means, let’s.” She cleared her throat and straightened, her demeanor taking on a regal bearing. “Do you remember what I told you?”

      Eleanor nodded. “Make eye contact, smile, be sincere.” The way Lord Charles had just been.

      Suddenly the understanding of it all washed over her with even more clarity.

      “Perfect.” Lottie waved Lord Charles closer.

      He obligingly stepped forward. The strength of his muscular thighs was visible beneath the light-colored fabric of his pantaloons.

       Oh, dear.

      A sudden thought occurred to Eleanor. Was Lord Charles a client of Lottie’s? They would cut a fine pair, with their dark hair and beautiful blue eyes.

      Except he was smiling at Eleanor as if she were the only woman in all the world. How very devastating of him. And how very different from their last meeting.

      What had changed? Her stomach twisted. Was it that he felt sorry for her? Did he find her so piteous that he had taken it upon himself to make up for it with flattery?

      “Lady Eleanor, may I introduce Lord Charles?” Lottie indicated him.

      Eleanor extended her hand and Lord Charles bowed over it. His fingers curled around hers and his mouth kissed the air above her gloves. Though his lips never touched the kidskin, she swore she could sense the heat of his mouth over her knuckles, like a caress against her skin. The sensation was not unpleasant.

      When he rose from his elegant bow she let her eyes meet his and linger. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Charles.” She infused the words with everything she could dredge up—gratitude at his temerity in being honest with her the prior day, the kind of charm he offered her, even her hope of becoming a better person than she might otherwise be.

      His smile broadened. Was it truly possible for one’s teeth to be so brilliantly white?

      Lottie laughed somewhere a world away. A joyous sound that dragged Eleanor back to the sumptuous red silk detail of the drawing room, where that nude bust stared boldly at her behind the temptation of a sherry glass and a wide gilt-framed mirror reflected Eleanor’s own flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

      Was that truly her in the mirror?

      She quickly looked away, to ensure she was not seen staring at her own reflection.

      For a moment she had allowed herself to be drawn into the alluring pull of Charles’s presence, sharing his confidence. For a moment, she had been someone else, open and sincere. The realization, however, brought back the sensation of being completely vulnerable. She had worn her expressionless mask for so long that without it she was naked.

      “Oh, Lady Eleanor, that was so very marvelous.”

      Lottie nodded appreciatively at Charles, and the look between them was intimate, conveying so much more than a friend aiding another.

      Immediately a wave of humiliation curdled the success Eleanor had mustered. What a fool she’d been, blushing at a courtesan’s lover as if he might find her truly enchanting. Hadn’t she already learned her lesson once before when it came to men who offered interest in her?

      “Shall we try again?” Lottie asked.

      Eleanor nodded, even though the shine of her newfound opportunity had greatly diminished. Not that she’d expected Lord Charles to find her truly interesting. But he’d said she was lovely.

      Was she so desperate to be found attractive? Especially with a woman like Lottie in the vicinity?

      “Lady Eleanor, may I introduce Lord Charles?” Lottie said in her silky voice.

      Eleanor lifted her eyes, but found Charles’s gaze harder to meet this time. “It’s lovely to meet you.” She heard the rigidity in her own voice and lifted her hand awkwardly.

      Charles did his part with the same smoothness as before. Again and again and again he demonstrated his mastery over his part of the introduction. Again and again and again Eleanor found she could not with hers.

      The flare of hope began to dim. She was lacking once more. Inadequate.

      Lottie’s question from the prior lesson surfaced in her mind once more—the way it had many times since the query had been issued: What was Eleanor afraid of?

      Eleanor had the answer. Or rather the answers. For there were many. After living behind the shield of her apathy for so long, to lower it was frightening. To be sincere was to be vulnerable, and to open herself to what rejection might do to that fragile, exposed part of her.

      She could not stomach such embarrassment again. She could not be a failure.

      Charles was home late that evening from Lottie’s. They’d worked with Lady Eleanor for longer than before. All to no avail. He was weary of introductions. Indeed, Eleanor’s disappointment in herself had been evident in the flush of her cheeks, despite her otherwise cool demeanor. And, though she was Westix’s daughter, he had not been able to help the swell of sympathy.

      She had persisted, patiently facing each new introduction with a determined set to her brow. He’d wished he could give her the passion she so lacked, could encourage the flame of life in those green eyes.

      Charles’s butler, Grimms, took his coat, hat and gloves as he entered Somersville House. “Good evening, Your Grace.” Grimms offered a formal bow. “I believe you’ll be pleased to learn that your father’s effects have arrived this evening. All have been placed within the library.”

      Charles’s exhaustion fell away, to be immediately replaced by excitement. He hadn’t anticipated the arrival of his father’s items from the country estate for at least a few more days.

      “Thank you, Grimms.”

      The butler inclined his head, showing the glossy skin atop his head where his snow-white hair no longer grew, and strode off.

      Charles immediately made his way to the СКАЧАТЬ