Page 3 of A Virgin for the Ruthless Duke

“Most do, but I find I enjoy a challenge.”

He nodded, his eyes darting around again. He was visibly uncomfortable being around her.

“What are your interests, My Lord?” she asked quickly.

Men love to talk about themselves, do they not?

“Hunting, fencing… I have quite a lot,” he answered. “But I’m sure none of those would interest you.”

Oh no.

She worried she had already ruined the conversation.

“You might be pleasantly surprised.” She tried to salvage the exchange. “I enjoy?—”

“You really should pursue more feminine interests, Lady Selina,” he told her. “It will make conversations a little less off-putting.”

“I do havefeminineinterests, as you so put it, but what is wrong with seeking knowledge about the world around us?” she asked. “If I were to tell you that there are many fruits we are unable to grow in our climate, but with special conditions, we might be able to form a new species adapted to our climate, would that not interest you more? There are certain houses one can build to keep humidity and warmth that…”

She noticed that his eyes had glazed over, and soon he turned to his left and joined the conversation with Lady Fiona, who was discussing the recent musical she had attended with Lord Bailiwick.

Now left alone, Selina caught her aunt’s disappointed look from where she sat two chairs away and lowered her head, trying to focus on her meal, which now tasted like chalk in her mouth. She was only too grateful when dinner ended and everyone chose to head to the drawing room for games while some of the gentlemen opted for drinks and cigars.

She chose neither and decided on a stroll through the gardens both for air and to clear the intrusive thoughts clouding her mind. The path was lined with lit torches, and the air was fragrant with the scent of Lady Mulford’s impressive garden. She instantly felt at ease.

She took one turn about the stone-lined gardens, mindlessly admiring the flowers lit with the silvery glow of the moon, and then decided against returning to the party, as the night wasn’t so cold that she would catch a chill if she remained outside longer.

As soon as she spotted a stone bench under a fragrant orange tree, she took a seat. The sounds of the party in full swing behind her and the gentle sounds of the owls in the trees beyond the estate gave the night a magical feel that helped calm the thoughts swirling in her mind.

Since she’d hoped to secure a match at the Mulfords’ party, she couldn’t help but notice for the first time that she was severely lacking in many ways. Her earlier attempts at conversation attested to the fact that she hadn’t still mastered the art of conversing with gentlemen. If she were to secure a match, she would need to learn quickly.

But how?

She couldn’t ask any of the other guests for help, considering they all had the same goal, and she could not ask her aunt, who would no doubt make a scene.

Sighing, she rose to leave before her prolonged absence became a subject of discussion.

Turning to head down the path, she ran straight into a solid wall that had her bouncing back, and she would have landed firmly on the ground had a pair of hands not reached out to steady her. Her hands landed on the man’s shoulders as she attempted to right herself, her heart pounding rapidly from the shock of her near fall.

She looked up, eyes wide, to see that she had bumped into none other than the Duke of Seymour—the newest acquaintance of her brother, Stephen, since he had recently helped corroborate her brother’s statement about Lord Dudley’s attack on their hunting party.

She hadn’t interacted with him in the weeks that had followed, but she had often seen him briefly when he was visiting Stephenin his study. He had never offered her more than a cursory nod, and she had always been in too much of a hurry to notice much about him.

She hadn’t noticed it back then, but with his large hands around her and under the glow of the moon, he was quite handsome to look at. His shoulders were so broad that they should have scared her, but she found herself marveling at their height difference.

His sandalwood fragrance wrapped around her in a cloud as they remained entwined in the moonlight. Had they been in a novel, one might have thought this the start of a wonderful romance.

“You do realize the impropriety of our positions, Lady Selina?” he said suddenly, reminding her of how close she was pressed against his frame and what that would have implied had anyone walked by at that moment.

Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself as a chill swept through her. He had been so warm that her body struggled to adjust to the rapid change of temperature. She shivered at the phantom warmth his hands left on her waist, and she frowned, wondering why it hadn’t been unpleasant being held by him.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for… helping me, Your Grace.”

“You shouldn’t be by yourself so late at night, Lady Selina.” His tone was grave. “You do not know what sort of dangers might be lurking about the estate.”

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