“How convenient,” her mother said, giving the Duke a coy smile Sybil wanted to douse like water on a fire. “Lord Averley and I had plans, but we would be more than happy to relinquish Sybil into your charge. I’m certain you’ll look after her.” This was accompanied by a speaking glance that made Sybil want to melt into the sofa.
“Excellent,” he said smoothly, and even though Sybil knew this was all to help her find adifferent gentlemanas a husband, she could not help but notice how very nice his voice was. “Lady Windermere and I will pick Lady Sybil up at seven tomorrow if that suits you.”
“Absolutely,” her mother said.
“Thank you,” Sybil said, determined to get a word in edgeways. Yes, this would be an excellent opportunity to spend time in Society without her mother, but she wanted to have a hand in organizing her fate. “I appreciate your kindness, Your Grace. Who… who else will be in attendance?”
Her mother gaped at her rudeness, but the Duke just grinned at her, as though amused by her. And goodness, the way his smile tipped up slightly more at one side threatened to undo her.
He had adimple. It was outrageous how attractive she found it. How attractive she foundhimwhen she already knew he had no intention of marrying her.
“My cousin, of course,” he said. “And her husband. A few of my friends will also be there. Lord Cavely, Sir Robert Dover, Lord Finchbury.” His gaze roved across her face as though he was drawing her beauty from her like a bee took nectar from a flower. “I imagine you will enjoy their Society.”
“All single gentlemen,” her mother said with a deplorable lack of subtlety. Sybil hung her head in embarrassment. “Sybil, darling, you must think how lucky you are.”
It appeared the Duke had kept to his word—and in a way she hadn’t expected. He quirked his eyebrow at her, and she reflected that she needed to be better at keeping her thoughts off her face. He could probably read everything she was thinking as it passed across her eyes. Amusement entered her gaze, and she flushed.Drat the man.
“If that’s everything, I will see you tomorrow,” he said, rising. Sybil and Scarlet rose as well, but although her mother was a fine beauty that day, with her lips painted red and her eyelashes darkened to give her face extra definition, the Duke barely glanced at her.
Instead, oddly, he bowed over Sybil’s hand with careless grace. His fingers tightened around hers as his lips brushed over the back of her hand, as though he could sense the hot thrill that ran through her at the caress, and when he looked up at her, his eyes were heated with that same bit of amusement.
He was toying with her, and how she hated it. How she wanted to know if his lips still felt as soft as they did at the ball.
It was hardly the most scandalous thought to have crossed her face, but considering the Duke seemed to have a direct view into her head, she didn’t wantanythoughts about him to be occurring to her. Not when he was going to marry her to someone else. It would be humiliating if he knew how much she wanted to kiss him again.
And atthatthought came a burst of heat through her that made her want to clamp her thighs together like she could squeeze it away. Or, perhaps, because clenching her thighs made it feel even more delicious.
With a shock, she realized the Duke still hadn’t released her hand and she was staring up at him like a stunned rabbit before a predator. Flushing, she wrenched her hand away and tucked it behind her back. Of everything he could have done, it was a dirty trick to have entranced her like that before her mother of all people. A wicked smile touched his mouth—a mouth she steadfastly refused to look at—and he bowed to her mother.
“Until next time, Lady Averley.”
“Come again,” Scarlet said with barely concealed enthusiasm.
Sybil groaned under her breath, and the Duke chuckled, gave her another heated look, and strode away. Well, that had been terrible.
“The Duke wants you,” her mother said, pouncing on her almost as soon as the door shut behind him. “I saw the way he looked at you. Has he lain with you yet?”
And, apparently, it was going to get worse. Sybil retreated to the other side of the room so that hopefully, her flush would be less obvious. A glance in the mirror told her that was a futile hope.
“How could you ask me such a thing?” she demanded, gripping the sofa rather harder than the situation warranted. “Young ladies don’t lie with men they are not married to.”
“Oh, tosh.” Her mother waved a hand. “Thetonhas done worse. Everyone has secrets, Sybil.”
Very true, and so did her mother—secrets that involved gallivanting with another man when she was married.
“The Duke and I barely know one another,” she said, truthfully. “And I have no intention of—of involving myself with him.” Also true.
There, maybe she didn’t need the ability to lie, after all. All she had to do was choose from a selection of truths like a connoisseur selected wines. Which wine was most appropriate with fish? Which truth was more appropriate for this conversation with her mother?
“You should make a move to secure him,” her mother said, draping herself over the sofa in a pose that highlighted the curve of her hip. Everything her mother did was a lesson in seduction; her body was a weapon and a prize all at once. Sybil would never be able to achieve that level of sensuality just byexisting.
“He doesn’t want to marry me—” Sybil started.
“Tosh. If he did not wish to fix his interest, he would not make such marked attentions. Besides, my love, if he ravishes you, he will be obliged to marry you.”
“Mama.”
“Come now, my love. It is an old trick and played out more often than you would think. The Duke is an honorable man.”
