Page 9 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

I know I shouldn’t, but Robert must have been hiding her here for a reason.

She felt delicious under his touch, and he felt himself stiffen in anticipation of what would come next. He had only seen her body briefly beneath the thin fabric, but he had very much liked what he had seen. He might have thought briefly of his commitment to Agnes if the situation had not been so exciting.

Edwin moved his hands up to her face, taking her soft cheeks. He could not hold himself back and moved his lips closer to hers. She had her eyes closed, ready to be taken by him. He turned her head, bringing his lips to her ear.

“And who might you be?” Edwin whispered.

The woman turned to face him and slowly opened her eyes. She gasped.

“Who are you!” she screamed.

ChapterFour

The Failed Seduction

Beatrice quickly brought her hands to the man’s chest and pushed him back, or tried to push him back. His body was muscular and solid, and she only managed to push herself back—not that it mattered. She only needed to get out of the room.

“You are the man from the ball,” she gasped.

He was the one she had mistaken for the Baron when he had walked in.

The man smiled. “Yes, I am the man from the ball, and you are the woman from the ball, and we find ourselves in a bedroom together.”

“No, it was not meant to be like this.”

Edwin stepped forward and took her by the chin, much as Lord Mutton had, but it felt very different. It stopped her in her tracks, and all she could do was stare into his emerald eyes.

“It should not have been you,” Beatrice muttered. “It should have been…”

“What did you have planned? What rotten scheme is this? Tell me why you are here,” the man boomed. “You thought you could seduce me? I saw how you looked at me in the great hall. You are naive, woman! Who sent you here? Is this some sort of test? Why does Robert have you in his room?”

“I’m not here to seduce you,” Beatrice whimpered. “I’m promised to another.”

The man let go of her chin and stepped back, looking her up and down. “As am I, but I am not in a state of undress. It is a good thing she did not follow me up here.”

“Your betrothed is here?” Beatrice asked.

Beatrice felt the shame and embarrassment overcome her. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hoping to cover herself a little. She had her shift on, but it left very little to the imagination.

She had been a fool for hiding in the room. She and Hannah had spoken about it. She would hide in the room until Lord Pemberton arrived, and then they would be caught in a compromising position.

She grimaced at the lack of planning. Their host might never leave the ball in time to enter the room, and there would come a point when she would have to leave with her family, or else her absence would be noticed. Now, she was stuck in the room with a stranger.

A sudden thought struck her. There might be a dozen betrothed couples at the ball, but she knew one of them.

“Your betrothed? Is it Miss Jennings?” Beatrice asked, her face reddening.

“You seem to know a lot about me,” he drawled.

“Oh, my goodness. You are the Duke of Walford, aren’t you?”

“The very same,” the Duke said with a smile.

She dropped her head in her hands, forgetting her modesty. “Please, you cannot tell her about this, or else she will spread more gossip about me.”

“Do you believe I want anyone to know about this? You came here to seduce me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Beatrice insisted.

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