She lifted up on her tiptoes, desperate to find her aunt so she could cry off this awful night at last. Bethany was nowhere to be found in the crush. Panic clawed up in Katherine’s chest as she scanned the crowd and found only cruel faces and faces that were lined with desire. She pivoted and froze.
There, standing across the room, was the Duke of Roseford. The world came to a screeching halt as she stared at him. He was just as handsome as he had been three years ago. Even more handsome, if that were possible. With his thick, dark hair, sharp, brown eyes and impeccable dress, there was no way one couldn’t look at him. He was staring back, just as so many other men in the room had been. And yet his expression was different. The duke was not a panting dog. He was a wolf. Leader of the pack. Bored and indifferent.
She remembered that moment on the terrace years ago. A stolen moment that had changed her life. She’d come to hate him for that moment and for the moments that had come after. But now, in this blink of an eye when she was caught in the snare of his gaze, she could recall how very much she had wanted him to kiss her.
“Damn him,” she muttered, pushing the memory away. Letting her anger return.Hewas the one who had ruined her life. She couldn’t be so foolish as to forget that.
A slight smile turned up Roseford’s lips, and then he took a step toward her.Towardher! One after another, right in her direction as he held her stare with that smirk on his face.
She turned on her heel and stalked away from him. She wanted nothing to do with that man and his handsome face and his knowing grins and his devil-may-care attitude. She had already suffered greatly for it once. She had no intention of ever putting herself in the position where he could make her suffer again.
Chapter Two
Robert settled into a comfortable leather chair before the roaring fire and accepted the cup of tea Matthew, Duke of Tyndale, handed over. He wanted something stronger, but, given the time of day, did not ask for it. Matthew would push and he wasn’t in the mood.
He hadn’t been for three days. Not since the ball where he’d seen the Countess of Gainsworth and determined that he would take her as a lover. Of course, now that was up in the air. The woman had given him such a look, like he was a viper. And then she’d just…disappeared.
“…the Vinesmith Ball,” Matthew said, finishing a sentence that Robert had not been attending to in the least. But it was about the very ball he had been brooding about, so Robert set his cup down and straightened up.
“I’m sorry?”
Matthew arched a brow. “I was just saying it was a crush and asking if you had a good time. What in the world is wrong with you? You’ve been out of sorts since you arrived.”
“You were out of sorts for years and you didn’t see me troubling you about it,” Robert said with a shrug.
He immediately wished he could take the words back. Matthew had been grieving the loss of his former fiancée for years. Only his bride, Isabel, to whom he had been married for only a few months, had brought him from the depths of his despair.
Matthew tilted his head, but there was no anger in his voice as he said, “That was a tiny bit different. And you are full of horseshit. You troubled me about my melancholy at least once a week for three years.”
Robert smiled. “I did do that. Dragged you off to places you didn’t want to be. I’m the reason you met Isabel, after all. You owe me.”
“You are,” Matthew said softly. “I owe you my life.”
“God’s teeth,” Robert said, pushing to his feet and pacing away. “I was in jest. Let’s not get into an emotional upheaval over my role in dragging you against your will to the Donville Masquerade.”
“Very well, then answer my question. Did you have a good time at the Vinesmith ball?”
Robert turned to him. “You talked to James, Graham or Simon.”
“They might have mentioned you seemed out of sorts,” Matthew said. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
“The ball was boring as hell. Those proper gatherings always are,” Robert snapped, perhaps more sharply than he had meant to. He didn’t like that his friends were all putting their heads together about him. “The only positive development was the return of Lady Gainsworth to Society.”
Matthew wrinkled his brow. “Ah yes, that was the talk of the night. Poor woman. It seems she will suffer the consequences of her husband’s…er…death.”
Robert hesitated. Isabel and Matthew had suffered some gossip themselves after their marriage. He had to tread carefully. “Lady Gainsworth did fuck her husband to death. That is bound to cause a stir in both your Society and mine.”
“Are we in two separate societies now?” Matthew asked with an arched brow.
“Of course we are. You and the rest of the married couples are in good Society. Good Society looks at poor Lady Gainsworth and sees scandal. They wish to shun her for something out of her control.”
Matthew’s lips had thinned. “AndyourSociety?”
“MySociety looks at her and wonders what a woman like that could do with a man more suited to all that…passion.”
His friend’s eyes went wide. “Wait, are you saying you are hoping to take her as a lover?”
“Everyone wants to take her as a lover,” Robert corrected him. “They’re betting on it right now. I’m just the one who is going to win.”
