“You have flawless logic, Your Grace.”
“Then why were you here?” He glanced over in the direction of Mr. Fagin, and she knew she had to distract him.
With newfound daring, she placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart. It pounded under her palm, and the Duke froze, glancing slowly down at her.
“I must confess, seeing you like that was quite something,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze. “Very different from the man you present yourself to be in Society.”
“This is not a side of myself I let most people see,” he said shortly, but she could still feel his racing heart.
If anything, her question had made it thump faster.
She leaned closer. “Why not?” she asked. “You were magnificent in there.”
He took hold of her wrist, fingers meeting around the delicate bone. Until that moment, she hadn’t appreciated fully how large his hands were, and the sight of it made her legs feel somewhat watery. She went hot all over.
“I know you’re distracting me,” he said, bending down over her and lowering his voice.
Although they were in a room filled with people, all Thalia could see was the Duke, and the gleam in his eyes made her feel a trifle unsteady, as though she were on the prow of a boat plunging into waves.
“I meant every word I said,” she told him, somewhat breathlessly. “You were marvelous, Your Grace. Truly.”
His gray eyes searched hers, and his fingers relaxed slightly at the truth he must have read there.
“I should go,” she said, wiggling free of his hold. “After all, this is not a particularly safe place for me to be. Goodbye!”
She waved a hand and darted back through the crowd before he could stop her.
At the top of the stairs, she paused and pressed both hands to her cheeks. His bound hands came back into her mind. The violence with which he had battered his opponent in the ring, and the gentleness with which he had touched her, were curiously contrasting.
He had listened to her about Lydia, and she even thought he might have taken her advice.
Shocking.
And heavens, the way he had looked was misted with sweat.
She hurried out of the building before she could expire with what she thought might just be unresolved desire.
“Just admit it,” Anna said as she sat beside Thalia in Elliot’s studio the next morning.
“Mm?” Thalia frowned, slicing at the wood with her knife as she rounded the edges.
“You fancy the Duke.”
“Fancy him? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Anna sighed, propping her chin on her hands. “I hardly thinkIam the one being ridiculous here.”
“I knew you would get the wrong idea when I told you about the boxing.”
“Theboxingis not the issue, dearest. Many gentlemen box, and although most ladies do not have the privilege of watching, the act itself means nothing.”
“Well, then.”
“It’s howyouhave responded.”
“I’ve not responded at all,” Thalia said, turning away from her latest creation and frowning at Anna. “In fact, I’ve not seen him since.”
A deliberate ploy, though with the Duke chaperoning Lydia everywhere—and Thalia’s father insisting she marry at the first available opportunity—not one she could maintain for long.
