Page 14 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

“Damn Grace,” he muttered under his breath as he decided it was time to leave the ball. He returned to the door, collecting his frock coat from one of the servants before he left through the front door. “That was not meant to happen. Not meant to happen at all!”

CHAPTER5

“Violet, please,” Grace urged as the pair of them returned to the ballroom.

“You have my word,” Violet promised. “I won’t say anything. But dear God, Grace, of all the people in the world, I was hardly expecting to return to that lawn to find you in the arms of the Duke of Berkley?”

“Well, it’s hardly something I expected either!” Grace needed to talk about this, to find out exactly how much Violet had seen when she had first returned to the lawn. Had she seen in what a passionate way the two of them had been locked together in that kiss?

“I have to go.” Violet motioned across the room. Her husband, the Duke of Barlow, was doing his best to signal to her slyly. “We’ll talk about this, all right? But please, be careful, Grace.”

“What does that mean?” Grace did not get an answer to her question though. Violet hastened off to meet her husband across the ballroom, and the two of them left.

Standing at the side of the ballroom, Grace stared at the empty space left behind by Violet. She didn’t want to look around, fearful that she might meet the gaze of the Duke of Berkley again.

Why did he do that?

Grace lifted her hand and trailed her fingers across her bottom lip, still stunned at the sensation he had caused. He, of all people, she had not expected to be her first kiss. Though she knew she would be lying to herself if she did not admit she had loved every second of it.

The passion with which he had kissed her, even the flirtation he had offered before clashing his lips against her own had been a thrill. She had felt heady, as if she had drunk five glasses of wine and not just the one she’d had.

Was he going to kiss me again?

The way he had wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close made her feel quite powerless, thrillingly so, for which she was ashamed. Apparently one good kiss and she was willing to be as pliable as clay in the Duke of Berkley’s hands.

“Well, did you do it?” Celia’s voice suddenly disturbed her.

“Do what?” Grace dropped her hand and flung herself around. Celia stopped beside her, a curious look in her eye.

“With the Marquess of Morton. Did you…” She paused, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them before she whispered the next word. “Kiss.”

“Oh, no.” Her words made Celia’s shoulders slump.

“No? Well, we’ll simply have to find you someone else to kiss.”

“That won’t be needed.” Grace reached out and caught Celia’s wrist. She dragged her to a corner of the room, far away, determined for no one at all to have a chance of overhearing what she had to say. “I still kissed a gentleman.”

“How thrilling.” Celia’s eyes lit up. “And do I get to know the name of lucky gentleman?”

“If I tell you, you cannot tell Eleanor.”

“Why not? Why…” Celia froze, that light fading from her eyes. “My God,” she muttered suddenly. “Are you telling me that you kissed herbrother?”

“Celia!” Grace waved a hand madly at her, urging her to be quiet. “Not so loud.”

“That wasn’t loud. It’s a wonder I didn’t scream it in amazement though, I’ll say that.”

“Please, don’t say anything to anyone, especially not Eleanor,” Grace begged, taking hold of Celia’s hand again but with desperation this time. “If she hears of this…”

“What of it? Eleanor might think it quite amusing, knowing her.”

“He won’t want Eleanor to know. God, you should have heard him, Celia, going on about how he had to protect his sister’s reputation. That I was a risk to her reputation as we’re such dear friends.” The words escaped her fast, blurting them out in her desperation to tell Celia all.

“He said that?” Celia’s eyebrows shot up. “The irony when you consider that there were two people in the kiss between you. Did he kiss you first? Or did you kiss him?”

“Celia!”

“What?” Celia asked innocently.

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