Page 13 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

“Agnes, hush,” Mary admonished, her voice tinged with impatience. “Your heart does not matter at this moment. Securing your future must be the priority.”

Agnes was about to offer a retort, to argue that matters of the heart should never be dismissed, but their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a servant bearing a letter.

“Excuse me, My Lady,” the servant said politely as he handed the letter to Mary.

Mary took the letter, dismissing the servant with a nod. She glanced at the envelope briefly, her eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. The contents seemed to capture her attention, for her expression shifted subtly, reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

Agnes, though angered by her mother’s words moments ago, remained a silent observer.

As Agnes observed her mother’s reaction to the letter, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Her earlier anger about the conversation they had was gradually replaced by a sense of resignation. She knew her mother’s expectations and ambitions for her future, and it often felt like an unspoken battle of wills between them.

But her emotions shifted once more as she watched her mother’s gaze darken.

The look in Mary’s eyes was far from casual curiosity, and it raised Agnes’s suspicions. Then, her mother proceeded to single out one letter and set it alight with a small candle. The parchment curled and blackened as the flames consumed it, and Agnes’s curiosity heightened.

It wasn’t like Mary to destroy correspondence so readily, and Agnes found herself wondering about the contents of the letter that had prompted such a reaction. Her mother’s actions seemed to suggest a matter of utmost secrecy.

Agnes’s instincts told her that she needed to tread carefully, for it was evident that this situation was not just a simple matter, but something clandestine. She resolved to keep a watchful eye on her mother, determined to uncover the truth that lay beneath the smoldering ashes of that mysterious letter.

Agnes decided it was best to excuse herself from the situation. Standing up gracefully, she addressed her mother with a polite smile. “Mother, I’ll be taking my leave now. I have some things I need to attend to.”

Mary, still preoccupied with her thoughts and the mysterious burnt letter, absentmindedly waved her hand in agreement. “Of course, dear. Go on.”

As Agnes left the room, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of suspicion settling in her chest. The whole ordeal with the burnt correspondence had piqued her curiosity further. She knew she needed to dig deeper, for her desire to uncover the truth now burned as fiercely as the letter that had been reduced to ashes.

CHAPTER5

Aweek had passed since Matthew’s encounter with Agnes at the ball. Now, he found himself seated in an opulent gentlemen’s club, a bastion of wealth and power in the heart of London.

The club exuded an air of sophistication, with dimly lit parlors adorned in rich mahogany and leather, where gentlemen of esteemed status gathered to unwind and discuss matters of importance.

He wasn’t there to unwind, nor was he there to discuss matters. He just wanted to forget. Those blue eyes. That soft skin. The way she talked softly.

Everything about her was stuck in his head.

Stephen, Matthew’s close friend and confidante, sat across from him at the table. He was a striking figure, his lean frame clad in a finely tailored black coat, with a cravat meticulously knotted around his neck. His dark hair and sharp features made him a magnet for attention, though he often wore a sardonic grin.

Matthew, on the other hand, was a commanding presence with his broad shoulders and strong physique. He wore a deep navy jacket over a pristine white shirt, and his brown hair was perfectly combed. His brown eyes, however, were clouded with unease as he held a glass of whiskey.

The amber liquid in his glass swirled as he brought it to his lips, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through him.

It was so easy, way too easy.

He was careful not to let himself get too inebriated, aware of the watchful eyes around him. As the Duke of Huntington, he was a figure of prominence, and the ton would seize any opportunity to scrutinize and mock him.

He knew it. They knew it.

They all seemed to walk on tiptoes around each other.

Apart from that, Matthew’s thoughts were consumed by her. The woman with dark hair and striking blue eyes.

Matthew sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn’t escape the memory of their shared kiss, the brief moment of vulnerability that had slipped through his guarded facade. His mind wandered back to her, and he cursed himself for allowing it.

What was he thinking, kissing her like that.

It’s dangerous, a mistake I can’t afford. The ton would revel in the scandal. I must put her out of my mind.

But the memory of Agnes’s vibrant blue eyes and her fiery spirit refused to fade. The more he tried to push her out of his thoughts, the more she seemed to entwine herself around his consciousness.

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