Gideon grabbed her shoulders and whirled her around fully to face him. He shoved his annoyance to the side, lifting her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze. “You have your secrets. And I, too, shall keep mine.”
“I have no illusions about that,” she exhaled softly, her breath caressing his face.
“Why this fascination with me, Amelia? Or perhaps, is it the Masked Rogue that has captured your fancy? Did you seek me out, hoping to unveil the man beneath the mystery? Is that it?” he probed.
Amelia huffed what Gideon thought might be an incredulous laugh. She held out her hand, letting Gideon close the buttons at her wrists. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“So, are you saying you did not fancy me from the moment you laid your eyes on me?”
“We are worlds apart. Ourworldsare worlds apart. We have nothing in common, Your Grace. How could I?”
“I sincerely doubt that.” Gideon moved to work on the other hand. He didn’t know why he was so eager to get her to admit that she might have liked him, but he didn’t question himself. “We might have more in common than you think. Tell me, do you have a taste for poetry?
Amelia eyed him warily. “Surely you are not implying that you do as well?”
“Your lack of faith in me is wounding,” he sighed and she nearly smiled. “As it happens, I am quite fond of reading poetry in my spare time, though such moments come few and far between. Lord Byron’s works, particularly, hold a special place in my collection.”
“Is that so?” There was a note of excitement in her voice. “Lord Byron’s works are lovely, yes, but I fancy William Wordsworth. I’ve even dabbled in penning some verses myself as profound as his… but found them rather lacking in comparison.”
“I’m sure your creations are far better than you give them credit for.”
“I doubt it,” she murmured shyly. Now that they were done, she folded her arms against her bosom, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “But thank you. Have you ever written anything?”
“I have,” he admitted.
“Truly?” Surprise laced her voice. “What have you written?”
He moved for the ornate boxes of jewelry and returned to her side, stepping closer to put in the pearl earrings. She stood as still as a statue, perhaps even holding her breath. “Love letters?” he offered at last.
Amelia stared at him for a moment before realization dawned in her eyes. She laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm. “You had me fooled for a second.”
“That is because I am a trustworthy man,” he insisted with a chuckle.
“So you’d like me to believe.”
Gideon wrapped his arms around her to delicately fasten the clasp of the necklace at the nape of her neck. The humor between them sizzled away, leaving the heated tension that always persisted when they were this close. Once the necklace was secure, he didn’t move away, searching her gaze for a moment.
And suddenly realized that driving her away might not be as easy as he thought.
Breaking the moment, Amelia took a step back, her eyes fluttering as if to clear her thoughts. “I shall wait for you in the drawing room.” And, without another word, she spun and left the room.
Gideon was left standing there, momentarily speechless. He wasn’t sure whether to feel triumphant that she had felt the need to escape, or frustrated that she had managed to leave so gracefully. He was at least grateful that she hadn’t lowered her gaze when she’d left, or else she would be blatantly aware of the effect she had on him.
CHAPTER 12
The Duke of Gendway was the kind of gentleman who would fit in rather well at a decrepit tavern as well as he would in a lavish gentlemen's club. Gideon had always liked that about him, even though the elderly Duke had a tendency to prattle on about unimportant matters like the state of his horses.
The Duchess of Gendway, on the other hand, lived to impress the ton. She was always done up in the most extravagant manner, hosting a number of impressive balls and soirees. The social season in London was her self-proclaimed time of the year—when she could truly shine. Gideon typically maintained his distance from her, because he had little tolerance for her pretentious personality. However, tonight was an exception. It was the Duke’s eightieth birthday celebration, so Gideon thought to make the effort to attend.
The moment he stepped into the ballroom of Gendway Manor, the duchess flocked to his side with a broad smile and eyesgleaming with interest. “Your Grace, how lovely of you to attend!” she all but squealed in Gideon’s ear.
Gideon suppressed the urge to scowl at her. Her presence was already souring his mood, a mood already dampened by the silent carriage ride he had shared with Amelia an hour prior. She remained quiet by his side, though she didn’t protest when he offered his arm for them to enter together.
“I would not miss it for the world, Lady Gendway,” Gideon responded with polished ease, but the Duchess was barely listening at that point. Her attention, not to Gideon’s surprise, was on the lady on Gideon’s arm.
“And you must be the new Duchess of Stanhope,” she cooed. “I have been hearing so much about you, my dear! You must know that you and your wedding are the talk of London. I must say, I was quite disheartened to not find an invitation in my post.”
“It was a small and intimate ceremony, Your Grace,” Amelia answered before Gideon could interject. Her voice was gentle, perhaps a little uncertain. But she spoke clearly. “We certainly did not mean to offend.”
