Page 3 of The Wrong Duke

In the end, it wasn’t much of a choice at all. Amelia had no other option than to seduce and win over Lord Malnor.

How did she mean to do this? Simple. She was going to corner Lord Malnor. She was going to flirt and charm him as best she could. And then, when she saw her chance, she would kiss him.

It was a reprehensible action to take. And truly, she felt ill just thinking of it. But she knew thistonwell enough to know that if rumor of their kiss was to spread, and if Lord Malnor was the type of man whom she suspected him of being, that kiss alone would be enough to announce them as an item for all and sundry to hear, forcing her father, and those he might approach to sell her off to, to reconsider and likely leave her alone, lest they find themselves on the wrong side of a marquess’ wrath.

Once, not so long ago, all Amelia had wanted was to meet a man whom she might fall for. A man who she had things in common with, who understood her and liked her for the woman she was, not what society wanted her to be. To fall in love and have that love returned was a dream she clung to because a small part of her thought it might transpire. But now... desperate times and this was what she’d been reduced to.

Her mind raced as she moved through the ball, dodging happy couples, ducking eager lords with hungry eyes, careful not to get pulled into conversation from which she wouldn’t be able to escape. And it was because her mind was so busy that when she focused again and looked for Lord Malnor... she realized that she’d lost him.

“Oh.” She came to a sudden stop and looked about the ball, worried now because she may have missed her chance. “Where is...”

It was a cacophony of bright colors and loud music. A masquerade ball and every face was covered, making them harder to separate. Dresses twirled as women danced. Men moved in groups, drinks flowing freely, laughter growing the drunker they became. She stood on the spot, trying to look through the throng, searching for the golden mask that she had seen Lord Malnor wearing earlier...

She caught it out the corner of her eye, ducking from the ball and heading into the back garden. This, she realized, was perfect. Almost fate, for the dark corners of the garden would give her cover to perform even darker deeds. Hiking up her dress, Amelia powered through the ball, avoiding eye contact, keeping her head down, taking a deep breath as the cool night air washed over her the moment that she crossed the threshold into the garden.

And there he was. Lord Malnor stood alone toward the back of the garden, away from the crowds, clearly needing a break from the surge of partygoers. He was taller than he had looked inside with broader shoulders and a powerful stance that was not at all unappealing. The mask he wore made it impossible to make out his features, but his hair was dark, and from what Martha had told her, he was more than easy on the eyes.

For a moment, Amelia wondered again if this was the right move. Because once she acted, there would be no going back...

Then she took a deep breath, reminded herself what was at stake, and charged across the garden before the Lord had a chance to collect himself and rejoin the party.

“Lord Malnor,” she called out softly. “A moment?”

He didn’t react when she called his name, his attention focused on the forest that surrounded the property. He was so in his own world that it wasn’t until she was practically right on top of him that he noticed her presence at all.

“Oh!” he started from surprise. “What are you doing?” Lord Malnor snapped in a way she hadn’t expected.

“I — I’m sorry,” she stammered, taken aback by his abrasiveness. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, massaging his forehead as if the conversation was paining him. “I was just getting some fresh air. I find these balls a little stifling.”

“Oh, me too. So many people. It’s going to be a busy Season by the looks of it.”

“Yes, I would say so.”

He didn’t elaborate, nor did he attempt to parlay the conversation into something more interesting. Rather, he looked surprised by Amelia’s sudden appearance and a little annoyed. Standing back from her as if on purpose, lips pressed together, his eyes flicked about, past her and back toward the ball. No doubt he was wondering what she was doing and whether or not it was appropriate to be alone with a young lady like this.

She almost laughed at that as this was nothing compared with what was to come.

“Are you having fun, My Lord?” she asked, smiling for him, so he’d know that she was genuinely interested. “I hope you’re not bored already.”

“As much as I can.” He eyed her curiously; he had blue eyes, Amelia noticed, as clear as pools, near crystal in the way they seemed to shine in the darkness. “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

“No, I don’t think we have.” She laughed and held out a hand for him to take. “My name is Miss Baker.”

He eyed the hand for a moment too long before taking it and giving the back a kiss. “Baker? You are Lord Lindstone’s daughter?”

“That’s right.”

“I know your father,” he said as he dropped her hand with a little more haste than she’d expected. “Does he know you’re here?” There was something in his voice... a suggestion that her father wouldn’t approve of the two talking.

“Oh...” She flashed her eyes. “...what my father doesn’t know what hurt him. Surely, that’s not a problem?” She wished that she didn’t have this mask on. It would be so much easier to flirt and be suggestive without it.

He leaned back slightly. “I don’t know about that. In fact...” He looked past her again. “...I think it’s better if we —”

“Wait!” She reached out and grabbed him by the arm. He eyed it, but she didn’t let go. “I was hoping we might talk a moment?”

“And what will we be talking about?”

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