She hadn’t failed to notice how the Duke was bringing up Colborn more often. Perhaps he was feeling guilty. Which only madeherfeel guilty. It was a pain in the arse—having a conscience.
She took a sip of her red wine while servants in their red and yellow livery laid out the dessert spread. This seduction was all getting much more complicated than she had anticipated. She had thought the Duke would be like Colborn and seize the opportunity to bed her. One night, and she would have her revenge and escape.
Instead, with every interaction, he was showing how decent of a human being he was. How he was nothing like his son.
It was very problematic.
Every door she had opened at the Chesterfield ball had heartless people engaging in sexual activities. It seemed the odds were in her favor that more heartless people existed in this world than heartfulpeople. So, why was it, when she chose to seduce someone for revenge, she chose someone with a heart?
Sodding inconvenient.
Which had her warring with herself whether trying to persuade someone to do something that went against their conscience was worth saving her future. It seemed pretty bloody selfish.Not seems, Fliss, itisbloody selfish.
But at the same time, it made her extremely aware of the fact that she needed to extricate herself from this betrothal. She had developed a stronger liking for the Duke in one entire day than she had for Colborn over the course of four years.
Good Lord, when the man had smiled? Felicity had almost checked herself for bullet wounds. She was sure she must have just been shot dead. The man was a stunning specimen by default. But when he gifted her a grin, teeth glinting and dimple popping, she fully understood why he had earned the moniker Devastating Duke.
Pandora’s and Felicity’s rhubarb and lemon hand pies were laid out with the rest of dessert. The girl shook in her seat, excitement clear as day over the fact thattheirpastries had made the dinner table for dessert.
Felicity took one and lifted it, arching a brow at Pandora. “Cheers?”
Pandora snatched one up and mimed clinking pies with Felicity. “Cheers!”
Felicity hummed in approval as the sweet, yet tart lemon filling coated her tongue, combined with the melt-in-your-mouth crust. Pastry crust was her favorite. She let her eyes flutter shut in appreciation. Buttery, flaky, with a touch of salt. Absolutely divine.
She glanced at the Duke to find him watching her, but he hastily looked away, a light blush blooming over his cheeks, and served himself a portion of trifle.
“So, you have both learned an unorthodox habit of mine.” Felicity lifted the remaining half of her pie as proof of point. She was determined to drag the Duke into conversation. “I enjoy baking. And I have learned of Pandora’s like of dressage, which I cannot wait to see,” she added, waggling her eyebrows at Pandora, which had the girl beaming. She turned back to the Duke, who was still avoiding looking her way. “Now, I believe it is your turn, Your Grace.”
His gaze snapped to hers, the corners of his lips, his beautiful lips, turning down. Why did he look so desirable when he was all frowns and scowls?
“Yes, Papa,” Pandora jumped in, helping Felicity’s case. “Your turn to share how odd you are.”
Felicity almost missed it, but the Duke’s lips twitched ever so slightly.Why won’t you just let yourself smile?It didn’t make sense to her. He clearly wanted to. He was clearly capable—she had seen proof of that devastation earlier. It was just the three of them and some servants. But he wouldn’t allow himself. It was like he wouldn’t allow himself to be happy.
And then a light seemed to spark behind his blue eyes, and she thought he would smile.
But he didn’t.
“I collect rocks,” he blurted.
Her brows pinched. She was not at all prepared for that. She had to hand it to him. That was an odd habit.
“And I name them.”
Well, then. Definitely odd. So odd, it inspired quite a bit of curiosity. She opened her mouth, but Pandora spoke first.
“You collect rocks…” Pandora stared at her father like he was the one who had agreed to wear a dress to dinner instead of his usual breeches-clad daughter.
“Yes,” he said in a tone every child knew brooked no argument. And then accompanied it with a warning look. “I collect rocks and name them. Of which, you are very familiar, daughter.”
Now this conversation was becoming more peculiar than a pet-rock collection.
“I will hand it to you, Your Grace. It is an unorthodox habit,” Felicity said, glancing back and forth between the father-daughter duo.
Pandora rested her elbows on the table, completely throwing aside table manners, a fork spinning between her fingers. She smiled a devilish daughter smile at her papa.
“Perhaps you should show Felicity your rock collection, Papa. I am sure—what is your favorite named again? Ah, yes, Francis!—I am sure Francis would love to meet her.”
