Emmy followed Daria’s gaze.
Indeed, the duke’s attention had shifted. He’d become the predator on the hunt for his prey. Calculating. Determined.
Casting Daria a look equal parts pleading and despairing, Emmy fled.
As anticipated, Argyll abandoned his half-empty flute on a nearby column. He murmured a final word to his friends, bestowed upon Lady Faith a courteous bow and a kiss to her hand, and then turned away, already in pursuit.
Daria waited.
One beat. Two.
Only when he had gone did she rise.
Careful now, she timed her movements to perfection.
And then Daria followed the Duke of Argyll.
Her future husband.
Chapter 3
Argyll didn’t just enjoy a good hunt. Hecravedit. The greater the challenge, the greater the satisfaction. For this one, he’d even caught up a glass of French champagne to toast the night’s eventual success.
And when it came to securing time alone with Miss Emmy Caldecott, what a hunt it was.
Or it had been. The chase the beautiful wallflower led him on ended this night.
Decades of women falling over themselves to earn a place in his bed, the title of duchess, or both, gave Argyll an added appreciation for the rare ones who took greater cajoling.
The soft slap of Miss Caldecott’s slippers striking Italian marble floors marked, clear as a dueling pistol fired at dawn, Argyll’s path.
You’ve led me on quite the chase, Miss Caldecott.When it came to Argyll’s name, certainly Craven and the lady’s sister together instilled the fear of God Almighty in the child. Their rightful suspicions of Argyll accounted for their keeping the lady away from any functions he attended.
Or the ones they’d known he accepted an invitation to. Argyll’s guards led by Severin Cadogan, the Earl of Kilburn, proved superior in discovering details the Craven’s took as secret. He remained a dozen steps ahead of them. If he were capable of pity, he’d have actually felt badly for his childhood friend and current rival.
As always, his choice prize’s rapid steps gave her away. Argyll trailed at a safe distance. Let the lady believe she had control. From the moment she made her Come Out, he’d allowed the lady a false sense of security.
He could count on one hand—four fingers, to be exact—the number of women who’d rebuffed him.
Well,threenow, given his stepmother’s embarrassing performance this evening.
Lady Faith—now married to his partner, Rex DuMond—and only because DuMond decided to claim her, which put an end to his seduction.
Edith, formerly Miss Edith Caldecott—now married to Argyll’s rival and enemy, the Duke of Craven—came alive in Argyll’s arms.
And now, her—Miss Emmy Caldecott, his bride to be. Craven’s innocent,surprisinglylovely sister-in-law.
He’d have married her if she had a horse face—painfully and regretfully—but in the name of coming out on top of the gaming hell war, he’d have made the noble sacrifice. Her comeliness came as an added bonus.
They neared the most northern wing of the marquess’s residence.
His ears picked up on the slight break in Miss Caldecott’s treads. For the lady had reached the end. In every manner of the meaning.
Why, he might almost believe the lady a coquette who’d led him on the chase. Lord and Lady St. Cyr’s many-levelled terrace overlooked prized gardens. The veritable Eden marked the perfect place for a nighttime seduction. He’d shatter her defenses. Leave her hungry, craving for more. When he was done this night, she’d be more than half in love with him and well on the way to being his Duchess of Argyll.
Click.
A predator’s grin that would have sent the beautiful chit into the flight of her life curled his lips.
