Page 4 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

Her vibrant curls were gathered into a neat,propercoif that had his fingers itching to release them. Her vivid blue eyes looked a tad…lifeless.

In fact, she seemed a mirror image of the woman right beside her, who looked just like her, save for the lines at the corners of her eyes and her brow. Was this how Lady Scarlett Clarke was supposed to look in a few decades?

Probably, if she succumbed to the demands of Society.

His gaze flickered to the younger redhead again. He recalled her vivacity when she dragged him to a particular sitting room in Fitzroy Park and locked the door behind her. It had taken all ofhis control not to make good use of the couch. Even the damned bookcase had been incredibly tempting, as he remembered it.

He had wanted to lay siege to that generous, mischievous mouth of hers. Drink in the laughter she had at his expense.

Well, she did not seem inclined to laugh now. Neither was she meeting his gaze.

Interesting.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

He shifted his attention to the older woman—her mother, perhaps?—who bobbed a polite, if stiff, curtsy.

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. The Dowager Duchess always complained that it made him look more frightening, and he took a perverse delight in being just that, especially when the older lady’s eyes widened.

She did not, however, balk, as noblewomen were wont to do. In that aspect—sheer, foolhardy daring—her daughter seemed to have taken after her, as well.

“What is your purpose?” he growled. “Why did you dare to seek me out?”

And without sending a card beforehand, at that. No woman of aristocratic lineage would ever dream of committing such an infraction of etiquette, especially in the residence of a duke.

Imagine his surprise when the indignant mama bristled with barely concealed rage.

“The question,Your Grace, is how dareyoutake advantage of an innocent young lady!” she scolded him.

Right in his parlor. With all his fine china and tea served to them so nicely.

He directed his glare at Lady Scarlett Clarke, who looked away in visible discomfort. Now, he could see clearly where she got her fire from.

That was not to say that he relished being in the line of fire of a highly agitated mama with an unmarried daughter.

And what the hell was she going on about, talking about taking advantage of innocent young women? There was nothing innocent about the women he dallied with! Furthermore, he most certainly was not taking advantage of them when they were mutually beneficial transactions. And in the case of this innocent young woman, he only wished he could have taken advantage.

“I would be careful with my words if I were you, Madam,” he warned. “I would not so lightly offend a duke in his own home.”

The old woman pursed her lips, but she did not back down.

When he looked at Lady Scarlett, she looked quite mortified. His eyes narrowed at that.

Did the little hellion just accuse him of compromisingher? Was she so jealous of her friends that she wantedanyduke for herself?

Very well, it would seem that he must get to the root of all this absurdity.

He turned to Lady Scarlett, who had remained miraculously silent throughout the entire debacle. If there was anyone who had something to say, it would beher.

“Did you make such a claim, My Lady?” he asked her, the softness of his tone belying its dangerous undercurrent.

He watched as a rather appealing flush spread across her cheeks at his intense scrutiny. It seemed that he could still fluster her.Good.

Maybe she would be flustered enough to admit the truth and end this charade.

For her own sake.

Huge. She had forgotten just howmassivethe Duke of Wolverton was.

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