Page 7 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

He sighed, balling his hands into fists. “If I were on these pages for one of my real misdeeds, I would accept it. But that vile woman has dragged me through the dirt while she has gone on to jilt asecondfiancé and then married well, entirely unscathed. I did nothing wrong! And you do not see that other fiancé being raked across the coals, now, do you?” He clenched his jaw. “She gets to play the merry duchess while my own dukedom falls to pieces. It is… reprehensible.”

There were great debts left behind when his father died. Debts like a cracked dam that he kept trying to fill, only for more leaks to spring up. He had not exactly helped his position either, for he had stretched his rakish habits far beyond his means.

“Sooner or later, you will find a lady whose dowry will help,” Anthony said, hesitating to take another piece of toast, as if one less might fix their financial woes.

William looked from the crumpled scandal sheets to his brother, an idea cementing in his mind. “No… not justanylady.” Something swelled in his chest, hot and dark and thrilling. “This is all Lady Emma’s fault. Her family owes me—owesus. And now, it is time to collect.”

CHAPTER 3

“Forgive us, Lydia,” Joanna crowed, her cheeks red with laughter. “Goodness, what scoundrels we are, discussing such things in front of an innocent!”

Marina fanned herself, each pulse holding back the heat of the afternoon. “Youare the scoundrel, Joanna. We have not mentioned anything untoward.” She stifled a snort. “Aside from saying that my husband and I enjoy the outdoors on summer evenings a great deal.”

“And we all know what that means!” Joanna erupted into a fresh bout of laughter while Lydia stewed in the belittlement of the three duchesses around her.

Emma filled Lydia’s glass with lemonade and nudged a raspberry tart toward her, as if she truly were a child who could be placated with delicacies and cooling drinks. They had been giggling, making innuendos, and being secretive about their romantic lives all afternoon, talking as if Lydia was not there half the time, and talking down to her the other half.

They did not know that Lydia had a secret of her own. One that was bursting to be out, so she might watch the astonishment on the faces of the three women when she told them that she had had her first kiss. That she had been held as no one had ever held her before, pulled tight against the muscular chest of a wolf-pirate, his whispers still tingling down her neck.

No, I did not havemy first kiss. It was stolen from me.

She kept forgetting that part in the daydreams she had savored since it happened and had nearly forgotten itwhileit was happening. Still, she would have liked to make her sister and the other two stop and listen to her for a moment, to see her as a woman, not a girl.

“Silas and I find the armchair very comfortable,” Emma said slyly, glancing at Marina and Joanna with a look of anticipation, waiting for their shrieking glee.

“Emma, you wicked thing!” Marina cried out, delighted. “But we must know, is the rumor about him true?”

Emma shrugged, grinning. “That depends on which rumor you are referring to.”

“You know the one,” Joanna urged. “Certain… endowments.”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

You could not be less discreet if you tried.

Emma tapped the side of her nose. “That is for me, and only me, to know.”

“Come now, I have told you about Edwin!” Joanna lamented.

“You gave the information freely,” Emma replied. “I will not do the same.”

Marina giggled. “Rathertoofreely, it must be said.”

“Excuse me,” Lydia remarked, standing up. “I have something of a headache encroaching, and the bright sunlight is doing nothing to help. I think I shall retire for a while and leave you witches to your cackling.” She smiled and headed for the terrace door, but a whisper nearly made her turn back.

“I have told you this before, we should not speak of such things in her presence. It is too much for her young ears, even veiled in innuendo and metaphor,” Emma said quietly to the other two. “Now, we have chased her away. We are being very badly behaved.”

“No, now, we may speak as freely as we please,” Joanna replied in a satisfied tone.

Their soft laughter prickled up Lydia’s spine, but rather than whip around and tell them that, actually, they were not subtle, she mostly knew everything they were talking about from her books, she had been kissed last night, and she was not to be treated like a child, she marched into the manor in a grim mood.

A few chapters ought to remedy this.

She was already selecting an old favorite in her mind, dreaming of stretching out in her window seat with the sun on her face and her beloved stories coming to life in her head.

Although she already knew that the hero’s face, when she pictured it, would be framed with curly dark hair and, more likely than not, wearing a wolf mask. She could not help it.

That man in the library had been a wretched beast to kiss her, despite how well he kissed, and she wished she had slapped him harder, but in her imagination, even beasts could become delightful.

---