Page 48 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

"No."

Then Pierce's attention shifted. Margaret stood across the room speaking with Camelia, but her eyes were not on her sister. They were fixed upon Lady Samson, and there was something distinctly narrowed about them. Her expression was composed, but Pierce knew enough about her already to recognize the signs. Her jaw was slightly tense, and the fingers curled around her glass had tightened.

Jealousy?

The realization struck him with unexpected force.

Nathaniel straightened his coat and surveyed the crowded room with renewed purpose. "Now, if you will excuse me, there are several women in attendance whom I would like to become acquainted with."

"I thought you already knew half of them."

"I know their names," Nathaniel replied. "That is not quite the same thing."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd with the confidence of a man who considered every eligible woman in London a personal challenge.

Pierce watched him go, shaking his head before his attention returned to Margaret. She was laughing at something Camelia had said, and the tension in her expression had disappeared. Yet Pierce could not stop thinking about the look he had seen moments earlier.

Why had she been jealous?

Their marriage was an arrangement. She knew it. He had told her plainly that he did not seek love, and she had insisted that she would never love him either. They had agreed that Hugh would be the center of their connection, nothing more.

So why had she watched Lady Samson as though the other woman had threatened something that belonged to her?

Pierce took a slow drink of brandy, his gaze lingering on Margaret. Perhaps she was simply protective of her position as duchess. Maybe she disliked Lady Samson.

Or is she truly jealous? That cannot be, because no one has ever felt that way when it concerns me.

Margaret glanced towards him, then she immediately looked away.

Pierce approached Margaret with a composure that concealed his mission to get some answers on the matter. "You appear… thoughtful, Duchess."

"I was wondering," Margaret replied sweetly, "whether Lady Samson is a close friend."

Pierce's mouth twitched. "I am acquainted with the family, naturally. You were watching me?" he asked with feigned innocence.

Margaret lifted her brows. "I was not."

"You were," he said.

"I was looking in that direction, that is all," she replied.

"For nearly five minutes."

"I enjoy windows," she said.

Her wit made him laugh aloud, which caught him off guard. Pierce stepped slightly closer, lowering his voice.

"You should be careful, Margaret. Someone might think you were jealous."

Her cheeks flushed instantly. "I am not jealous."

"Of course not, you simply like windows."

"And if I were jealous," she added, lifting her chin, "it would be none of your concern."

Pierce's smile deepened. "On the contrary, Duchess. I find it exceedingly puzzling."

CHAPTER 12