Page 22 of Seduced By the Rakish Duke

She raised her hands to stop Frances from rearranging the entire terrace. “Frances, I’m fine, really. Why don’t we go down to therefreshments table? It’s in the shade and by the pond. There’s always a nice breeze there.”

Please, God, please just get me out of here before I make a bigger fool of myself.

Frances and Nora exchanged a worried look before Nora shrugged. “It is nicer there—we wouldn’t have to listen to men pretend to fix all the problemstheymost likely created.” She winked.

Frances burst into giggles. “That is true. It’s settled. Thomas, your sister, Nora and I are going down to get refreshments. Do try not to start any wars while we’re gone. I’m still trying to calm down the carpenter you riled up over our library.”

Thomas lifted an eyebrow at his wife and gave her a look that, as Jenny had come to learn, was not meant for polite company to see.

Once again, Jenny found comfort in the cool liquid. It has become her lifeline in events such as these. Purposefully giving her mind and body something to do that wasn’t perfecting the perfect curtsy, or remembering which step came next in a dance, or what not to say inpolite societywas relaxing. All she needed to do was lift the cup, drink, and enjoy the refreshment. Even if it was just watered-down lemonade.

Jenny eyed the punch bowl. More like lemon water than lemonade, really. Still, it helped.

“Well, your color looks better now. Maybe it was not the sun.” Frances studied Jenny’s face under the shade of the tent, tilting it this way and that to inspect every inch of it.

Jenny did her best not to cringe, but Frances’s motherly tone was really starting to grate on her nerves. She knew her sister-in-law meant well, but she couldn’t handle it right now.

“I’m fine, really,” she said while pulling away from Frannie’s grip. “No need to concern yourself. One afternoon in the sun won’t kill me.”

Nora lifted her hand. “Come, let’s sit on that blanket by the water.”

Jenny set the cup down on the table and walked over to the pond to sit on the blanket already laid out. She felt a tingle run down her spine as she sat. She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes met the Duke’s, who was watching her from his spot on the terrace. She was far enough away that she couldn’t hear their conversation but close enough that she knew his eyes were on hers.

Her breath hitched. Why was he looking at her like that? She lifted a hand to her hair. Was something amiss?

Nerves danced in her belly. She shifted her position so she was sitting parallel to the pond, allowing her to see the Duke out of the corner of her eye. He continued to stand there, staring at her, most likely ignoring anything her brother was saying to him.

“So, tell me, how is your Season going?” Frances asked while leaning back on her hands. She looked relaxed, and Jenny welcomed back the easiness between them.

Jenny looked over the pond. “It’s going as well as you would think. Nothing has really changed since last week’s ball and that fiasco.”

“Fiasco?” Frances screwed up her nose in confusion.

“Lord Banefield and his two left feet? Not to mention the inappropriate conversation I apparently tricked him into having, regarding my less desirable traits.”

Frances shook her head. “Ah, yes, I remember.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Lord Banefield. No one likes him anyway.”

“Easy for you to say—you’re married. And while I question your choice,” Jenny said, nudging her, “I must say, I’m jealous you no longer have to go through this. It’s intolerable.”

Frances chuckled. “I got rather lucky, didn’t I?”

She looked up at the terrace to find her husband. Jenny followed her gaze and once again found herself staring into the Duke of Marlow’s eyes. Her eyes widened at the intensity in them. He was looking at her as if they were the only two at the party. The small patch of grass between them seemed to shorten as an invisible thread pulled them towards each other.

Jenny shook off the thought and dropped her eyes to her fiddling hands on her lap.

There was nothing between them. He was lonely, looking for companionship. He’s just another closed-off man who smiled when he wanted something and used his charm to entice willing partners. Surface-level qualities, much like the rest ofthe ton.

Still, the nagging thought that she felt something deeper with him was there. She wanted so badly to pull at the thread, to dissect the possibility of something more between them. She wanted so desperately to see what he kept under the outer layer of aloofness and apathy.

She peered back up and saw he was gone. Her heart sank. She turned her body to look behind her—she felt desperate to see him again. The thought alone should have made alarm bells go off in her mind, but instead, she was frantic, trying to locate him.

“Looking for someone, Miss Bennett?”

She turned back and craned her neck. The object of her curiosity stood in front of her. “No, Your Grace. I, um… There was a bee I was trying to avoid.”

His smirk was knowing. “How terrifying. You must be careful not to move too suddenly around bees, or you may get stung.”

He retreated towards the house, the cup from the refreshments table in his hand.

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