Page 39 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

Matthew’s brows furrowed deeper as he processed the unfolding narrative. “How on earth did people arrive at such conclusions?” he asked Letitia, concern etching lines on his face.

Letitia, thoroughly enjoying her brother’s bafflement, responded with a sly smile, “Well, Brother mine, though you and Miss Agnes aren’t parading together in public, the chemistry between you two when you are seen together is undeniable. People see you look at her, talk, and rumors weave themselves into stories that make perfect sense to those who love a good scandal.”

The revelation left Matthew grappling with the implications of such gossip. His thoughts raced, considering the times he had shared with Agnes, wondering how much attention they had inadvertently drawn.

Was it possible they’d been caught?

Matthew’s inquisitive gaze focused on his sister as he sought more information. “What about Lord Egerton?” he inquired, recalling that Ewan was initially considered a potential match for Agnes.

Letitia’s eyes sparkled as she replied, “Oh, Lord Egerton is still in the running. But with the current events and the whispers circulating, it seems Miss Agnes might just end up as the belle of the Season. The ton loves a good story, and a captivating romance often steals the spotlight.” She emphasized her point with a knowing grin, leaving Matthew to grapple with the shifting dynamics of the social scene.

The realization dawned on him—Agnes, once thought to be destined for Lord Egerton, now stood at the center of attention with his attraction for her obvious, possibly emerging as the Season’s most talked-about debutante.

“So, what do you plan to do, now that you know?” Letitia asked.

In a mixture of frustration and confusion, he admitted, “I don’t know, Letty. This entire situation has me befuddled.”

Letitia frowned, her concern etched across her features. “Do you wish to be seen as a rascal in Society? Because people are watching you, Brother, especially when it comes to Miss Agnes. You’d better tread carefully.”

He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath of frustration. He wondered what Agnes thought about their situation. “No, that’s not my intention.”

Letitia insisted, “Then act accordingly. People are watching, and your reputation, as well as Miss Agnes’s, hangs in the balance.”

Determined to grasp the intricacies of his newfound situation, Matthew replied, “I’ll consider your words, Letty.”

Their paths diverged, Letitia heading for a nap, and Matthew making his way to his study. As he left, a resolve simmered within him—the next ball would be the stage where his intentions for Miss Agnes would be laid bare.

* * *

The finely crafted carriage rolled through the grand entrance, announcing the arrival of the Duke of Huntington, his sister, and mother to the opulent mansion of the third prince. As the carriage glided through the grand entrance, the Duke of Huntington, resplendent in his tailored regalia, engaged in small talk with his mother and his vivacious sister.

“Mother, Letitia, welcome to another evening of opulence and grandeur. Let’s all try to enjoy the ball tonight,” he said, and both women beamed beautifully at him.

Letitia turned to their mother. “I wonder if Madam Finna will make an appearance tonight after her scandalous affair.”

“It’s the talk of the town. I don’t think she’ll come even if she’s invited.”

It was obvious their mother was trying not to sound too excited at the thought of gossip, and Matthew smiled fondly.

“Scandal or not, these events are always a spectacle. But I hope this night goes uneventfully,” their mother added in a small mumbling voice.

Matthew nodded. “Indeed, Mother. One can only hope for a peaceful affair.”

Slowly, the carriage came to a halt, and the sounds of merriment started to reach their ears.

Matthew descended from the carriage, the embodiment of noble grace, his gloved hand extended to assist his mother and his sister. The soft rustle of their elegant attire harmonized with the hushed anticipation of the grand ball awaiting them.

The trio turned toward the entrance, the opulent mansion towering before them, a testament to the grandeur of the ton. As they all made to move toward the ball, Matthew, on instinct, looked to the side and stopped in his tracks.

Agnes, looking so beautiful that it could not be real, was being helped out of their carriage by her father.

At the same time, as if being called, Agnes also looked Matthew’s way, and they both froze. Their eyes locked across the glittering expanse of the mansion’s garden, a magnetic force drawing them into an unspoken connection.

As the swell of the music surrounded them, a current of passion and attraction passed between them, igniting a fervent longing.

As he expected, Matthew saw Agnes’s eyes widen softly, her orbs darkening with desire and her lips parting softly.

Matthew groaned and balled his hands into fists at his sides. The restraint it took not to reach for her, to pull her close, to kiss her… he’d never felt such a magnetic force.

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