But then, perhaps this was merely the character he was allowing her to see.
Determined to find out which man was the real Duke of Chiltern, she countered, “Such pretty words, Your Grace. I assume Lady Worthington has heard the same?”
His lips twitched as he accepted the gauntlet she’d thrown down. “Ah, I see. You believe that when I compliment you that I have some sort of hidden agenda, that my attentions aren’t sincere?”
She gave a light laugh. “Iknowthey’re not.”
With eyes that twinkled merrily, he said softly, “I see that I have yet to curry your favor, since you are so quick to disparage my character.” He lifted a lazy brow. “Perhaps I should not have intervened and let Eastbury guide you about the room.”
She lifted her chin and eyed him steadily, refusing to take the bait. “I didn’t ask you to come to my rescue.”
He smiled and pulled her even closer than society dictated. Her breathing hitched as he purred, “Come now, Triana, tell me you don’t feel something when I hold you like this.”
The way he said her name caused gooseflesh to flutter over her arms, but again, she ordered herself to be strong. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said evenly. “But you’ll find I’m not as easy to persuade as the rest of theton.”
The only response that registered at her bold statement was the flash of molten silver in his eyes as they glittered dangerously. When he spoke, his voice had pitched to a husky murmur. “Since you’re that determined to condemn me as a villain…” He began rubbing light circles over her palm with the pad of his thumb. “Perhaps I should show you just how wicked I can be. How about if I strip the clothes from your body and lick you from head to toe with my greedy tongue?” He taunted. “Would that make me evil enough to suit you?”
Triana’s breath caught sharply as her heart skimmed across her chest and slammed into her lungs. Never in her life had she been spoken to in such a crass manner, and while she ought to have taken offense to such scandalous and inappropriate remarks, a small part of her was actually enthralled by it.
The music ended, giving her a rather needed reprieve. The duke politely escorted her off the floor as if nothing was amiss. At the edge of the room, he executed a formal bow, and then turned on his heel and walked away without another word.
Only after he had been swallowed up by the crowd did Triana realize she was trembling. What had just happened? Her face was warm and she felt feverish. Either way, it was obvious Gabriel had wanted her to believe he was as much of a scoundrel and rake as anyone else, but it just didn’t make sense. He had said some rather shocking things to her, it was true, but it was almost as if he was tryingtoohard to make her believe the worst of him.
Triana headed for the ladies’ retiring room, intending to have a few moments to calm herself, but it wasn’t to be. Alyssa immediately accosted her and practically dragged her down the hallway to an empty room to what appeared to be a library. Rowena was already there, twisting her handkerchief in her hands when they entered, an anxious expression on her face.
Neither one of them wasted any time with their inquisition.
“Dear God, Triana! What happened last night?”
“We must know everything!”
Triana didn’t even get a chance to say a word before the door burst open.
Korina strode in somewhat breathlessly. “Did I miss anything? If not, there’s plenty of talk going on out there to keep me occupied for the rest of the week!”
With a groan, Triana just dropped her head in her hands.
***
Triana had prayed that the worst was over after that forty-five minute debacle, during which she was demanded to give a thorough recounting, but she found that her hopes were in vain, for not even a handful of society matrons with their judgmental glares were as damaging as the Times article the following morning;
Our esteemed Duke of Chiltern, thecurrentmost sought after bachelor in the city, has recently been linked to a particular young woman whose character is highly in question.LadyTrianais the talk of London this morning for her brazen antics in a singular attempt to attract the notice of this wealthy gentleman. While we consider this all a desperate cry for attention on her part, we feel mostaggrieved forLadyWorthingtona proper, society widow who has been injured with all the speculation, for she had been a prime contestant for the duke’s affections. What humiliationLady Trenton andLord Curdiffmust be feeling as they are yet again, subjected to more shameful behavior from their relations. Do we need to remind everyone of the shocking anticscarriedon bytheearl?
It is truly a sorrowful accounting, from this reporter’s view, that our men are hunted down like sport. To the hound, rest assured our fox shall run!
Triana stared at the unforgiving column until her eyes blurred, but she knew those harsh words were forever burned into her memory. If possible, it seemed the offending paragraph got worse the more she read it. While she admitted it stung to think that she’d been portrayed as the villain, a sort of husband-hunting deviant, she’d done nothing wrong.
Something bubbled up insider her — some might have called the emotion the urge to cry, but Triana reminded herself that she would not give thetonany more of her tears. She’d shed enough during her debut to last a lifetime.
She balled up the print and marched across the parlor, throwing the entire paper into the fire. She felt a small sense of satisfaction as she watched it become engulfed in hungry flames. If only she could keep her mother from reading it…
Could she be so lucky?
“To think that after all this time I’ve managed to patch together this family’s good name, only to have you tear it asunder again in the span of an evening! I swear you are your father’s daughter, Triana!”
She let out a weary sigh.Obviously not.
Lady Trenton’s irate voice cut through the air like a whip as she flounced into the parlor and faced off with her daughter. Triana could sense the rage emanating off of her mother, so she forced herself to take a deep, fortifying breath before turning to meet her glare. She was not surprised to find Amelia clutching the latest edition of the Times in her hand — a copy of the one she had just happily burnt to ashes.
