“Call me Peter,” he offered.
It was informal and inappropriate, and even with his permission, Lavinia would never dream of calling him by his first name.
“I would rather not,” she muttered.
“I respect your choice,” he replied.
He moved so that he blocked her exit.
“I did not need your help,” Lavinia couldn’t help but add, because it was the next thought that popped into her mind.
The Duke chuckled.
“Clearly,” he said mockingly. “I take it that you do not appreciate the kind of help I just offered you. But I am a gentleman, Miss Fitzroy. I canhelpyou in more ways than you can imagine.” He took a step towards her.
Lavinia found herself taking a few steps back until she felt the bed behind her. Her heart raced.
I am trapped. Lord Windham has gone. He has left me alone, in this room, with a rakish duke.
“H-help? F-from you?” she stuttered.
The Duke looked confused but not surprised.
“Yes, Miss Fitzroy. You can ask me for anything.”
Lavinia was pinned in place as she searched his dark gaze. It was clear he wanted something that she could not recognize. She began to feel hot, and she throbbed in places she had never felt before.
“Is there something you want me to help you with, Miss Fitzroy?” the Duke asked, trailing his lips along her jaw.
Lavinia’s mouth fell open, and she let out a soft sound, the kind that she was not familiar with making. She was taken aback, and in her panic, she pushed the Duke out of the way with all her strength. She quickly hurried toward the door.
“I had better head back to my chamber,” she said, trying to ignore the heat inside her.
She did not even wait for the Duke’s response. She did not even want to hear from him anymore. She did not even look at him as she fled from the room.
I must avoid him now. No matter what happens tomorrow, I must steer clear of the Duke of Pemberton.
She scurried back to her chambers, her stomach still growling, but her body was craving something else.
That night, she slept furious and ravenous and even a touch mystified by the desire for the unknown.
CHAPTER 4
“What has caught your attention, Brother?”
Peter started when he heard Madeline’s voice behind him.
He had rested uneasily the night before, after watching Miss Lavinia Fitzroy leave his room. He had tormented himself, thinking about their exchange, knowing that he should not have been so forward with the innocent young lady.
Unable to sleep properly, he had risen before dawn and gone for a walk in the gardens. He found a modicum of comfort while walking beneath the enormous oak trees and scuffing the toes of his boots through the dry dirt.
When he turned to answer his sister, the rising sun, incredible and powerful, made him lift a hand to shield his eyes from its strong rays.
“Nothing,” he replied nonchalantly. “I was merely admiring the scenery.”
“Huh,” Madeline harrumphed as she sashayed to his side.
This morning, she wore a gown that was made of clouded yellow fabric. Her blonde hair, similar to his own, was knotted at the nape of her neck and mostly hidden beneath a colossal bonnet. Peter rather liked the display of daffodils, black-eyed Susans, and buttercups that sat atop it.
