“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.” She gave a feigned smile.
Bloody hell, she was a minx. A roguish grin tilted his lips as he held her gaze. “I feared we would never receive a proper introduction.”
Lady Phoebe’s cheeks bloomed pink, her gaze igniting with warning.
“Did you meet in London?” Rebecca asked, her tone cheery.
“At Alex and Daphne’s ball,” Graham answered, but his gaze remained on Lady Phoebe. She was a delectable vision when she blushed. He would endeavor to make her do it every chance he had. “Though I did not know that you were sisters.” He looked at Rebecca and offered a smile before turning back to Lady Phoebe.
“Indeed, we are, Your Grace,” Lady Phoebe said.
He nodded. “If I may be so bold, let us dispense with formalities. After all, your sister is my cousin’s wife. You may call me Graham.”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “Very well,” she ground out the words from between clenched teeth.
Graham did not miss the edge in her voice, nor the absence of his name on her tongue. Another challenge—one he would relish winning.
Bloody hell, she was Rebecca’s twin sister, an innocent, and Camden’s sister-in-law. He had to be mad for even considering the things running through his mind.
And yet…
Seven
Phoebe could scarcely remember another time in her life when tea had been so uncomfortable. Try as she might, she could not ignore the rogue. A duke of all things! And related to her dear sister’s husband. But above all, a scoundrel who was unabashedly chasing her skirt.
What was she to do?
Tipping her teacup to her lips, she shot him a sideways glance. As she had expected, he was watching her and had the audacity to wink. Much to her shame, her cheeks heated at his attention, and she nearly choked on her tea. The man was incorrigible.
Phoebe scowled at him before averting her gaze back to Rebecca.
Her sister prattled on about Almerry’s history and Camden’s efforts to restore the castle. All the while, Phoebe fought the urge to return her attention to the duke.
She’d wager his attention never left her, for she could feel his gaze burning into her, but she dared not risk a glance in his direction. The last thing she wished to do was offer encouragement.
When at last tea drew to an end and the men took their leave, she released a pent-up breath, her body relaxing for the first time in over an hour. How could one man unsettle her so? And why did she blush each time his gaze landed on her?
It was not as though she’d never received a man’s attentions before. She had been courted, just not by anyone who captured her heart—or her interest.
What a silly line of thinking. Graham most certainly was not courting her. He had no wish to marry her. Of that, she was certain. And while her fool self found him handsome and interesting, she had no wish to marry him, either. Phoebe did not love the scoundrel. She hardly knew him.
And yet, she had thought of him as Graham just now. Hell’s bells! This was no good at all.
With a sigh, Phoebe rose to her feet. “I should return home.”
“Allow me to walk with you.” Rebecca joined her, and they strolled from the room.
Once outside, Rebecca turned curious eyes on Phoebe. “How well do you know the duke?”
Phoebe gritted her teeth. She’d had the notion to deny Rebecca’s escort for this very reason. She had no wish to answer questions about her acquaintance with the rogue and knew her sister would pry. As it were, she was cornered, so Phoebe pretended indifference and answered. “Not well enough to signify.”
Rebecca arched one eyebrow as she studied Phoebe. “He said you had not been properly introduced. It begs the question, how did you meet at all?”
Phoebe tipped her chin up, soaking in the sun’s warmth as she lifted a little prayer. Please let the inquisition end. She fought to keep her pace leisurely when all she wanted to do was run away. “He was at Daphne and Alex’s masquerade. Of course, I did not realize he was Alex and Camden’s relation. We crossed paths for a moment is all.”
Rebecca spun her parasol. “A handsome devil, is he not?”
“Indeed, he is.” Phoebe could not deny what a fine specimen Graham was. Any woman who claimed otherwise would surely be lying, and to do so would only add to Rebecca’s speculation. “But he is also a rogue.”
