Page 5 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

He disappeared for a moment while Lydia’s eyes darted this way and that in the darkness, waiting for him to reappear behind her or beside her. Thinking it might give her greater protection, she pulled her mask back down over her face.

But the fox-pirate reappeared exactly where he had been standing—where he had held her so tightly that she could not breathe, and had not minded the lack of air for a fleeting, silly second—with a lantern in his hand.

He shone it in her direction, and with a heavy sigh and a sagging of his broad shoulders, he simply said, “Ah…”

William had followed the wrong pink dress again. Indeed, he should have known better than to think Lady Artemisia would say “twenty minutes” and not make him wait twenty minutes.

“Ah?” the young lady mimicked, wild-eyed and panting hard in the dull yellow glow of the lantern. “That is all you have to say to me?”

William grimaced. “You may put your book down. I mean you no harm, so there is no need to give me an even greater headache with one of those things. This all has a very simple explanation. I?—”

“I should say that it does—you saw me come in here, you thought you would seize the opportunity, and in doing so, you seizedmewithout my permission!” she interrupted, waving the book at him. “My sister warned me of degenerates, but I never expected one to be at such a… such a nice ball!”

He blinked at her. “If you would be quiet and let me explain, I?—”

“Does it seem like I am in the mood to hear your excuses?” the young woman shot back. “You ought to be wearing a weasel mask, for that is what you are—a lecherous weasel who thinks they can weasel their way out of the consequences of their actions.”

He had never heard anyone use the wordweaselso many times in one sentence, nor in one single breath. It was further proof that he should have known this woman was not Lady Artemisia because although Artemisia was fiery in her own way, she was nothing like the spitfire in front of him.

“Consequences?” William snorted. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“A-ha! Rehearsing your ‘poor me’ speech for when the guards come, are we?”

William swept a hand through his hair, baffled by the woman. “Guards? What guards? Where do you think we are? This is not a castle. You are not a princess.”

Is she?

He took a calming breath.

No, that is not possible.

“I might not be a princess, but I am no damsel in distress either,” she told him. “If this were not a library, I would scream.”

It took every shred of willpower he possessed not to laugh. “Because one must be quiet in a library?”

“Yes, because one must be quiet in a library, Oaf. Were you not taught that?” She sniffed. “I suppose not if you were also not taught that it is appalling to grab a lady in the dark and… and… hurt her against that stone chest of yours. I shall have bruises, I am certain of it.”

He put his hat back on his head and held up his hands, letting the lantern dangle from his thumb. “The explanationissimple,” he said firmly, “and it is not an excuse. You were—quite obviously if you would think on it instead of waving that book around—not who I was supposed to be meeting.”

“Well… I…” She paused, frowning.

“Every last lady at this tedious masquerade has decided, for reasons unknown, to wear the same blasted gown, and it is difficult to tell the difference between a cat and a rabbit in the dark,” he said, taking his opportunity to get a word in edgeways. “Though, I must say, your claws are sharper. You may have bruises, I shall have scars.”

She glowered up at him. “Do not be ridiculous. And do not turn this back into a woe-is-me situation. You grabbed me, you deserved to be nipped. You deserve worse, in truth.” She hesitated, lowering the book slightly. “What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“A wolf,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course, you are.”

What was that supposed to mean? His eyes narrowed as he tried to swallow his irritation at her mocking tone.

“I am sorry to have mistaken you,” he said gruffly. “Blame whoever decided pink was the color of the Season. I knowIshall.”

The woman seemed to relax. “What were you planning to do in here? I ought to know, since I have not yet decided if I shall leave or if I shall make you leave.”

“Well, since you are asking,” he replied, leaning forward, “I was hoping to do something like this.”

Which ought to keep you from telling anyone of my mistake…

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