Page 32 of The Dark Duke's Virgin

Ultimately, she was having a hard time working through her feelings for His Grace. Two days ago, it was easy to say that she hated him. He was mean and rude and cold and arrogant and all those other things. A hard man, one who seemed put on this earth to frustrate her, Caroline was quite convinced that she would never like the man. And she was glad for it!

Even her attraction to him, as much as it pained her, could be written off as a misunderstood emotion, fury pretending to be lust. When she was not bickering with him, she could convince herself she felt not so much as a smattering of desire toward him and was happy to leave it at that.

What happened between them the other day had changed all of that.

What started off as a typical enough argument had changed dramatically when His Grace had shown her actual empathy. Why, he had thanked her! Apologized! Told her she was doing a good job. What was more, he seemed to mean it!

It had caught her off guard in a way she had not expected, forcing her to reconsider how she felt about His Grace—what kind of man he was. And now, listening to the way Esther spoke of him… was it possible there was more to the man than malice and dispassion? Had she broken through his shell, even if she hadn’t been trying to? And what did that mean, exactly?

“Is… is His Grace attending the garden party?” she asked casually, not wanting to sound as if she cared while unable to look at Esther because she knew the old woman would be able to see right through her like a freshly cleaned window.

Esther spun about. “He’d better be!” Then she clicked her tongue. “But if I know Frederick, he will need some convincing.”

Caroline nodded along, feeling a spike in her heart at the thought of His Grace being there. A casual setting. Drinks flowing. A chance to see the man away from his daughter when he could be himself, when they might finally be able to pick up where they had left?—

“What? What are you looking at?” she demanded of Esther, who was watching her with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged.

“Esther…” Caroline warned her.

“I was just thinking…” A giggle. “… we should buy some jewelry to go with that dress. I know Frederick will appreciate it.”

“And why would I care about such a thing?”

“No reason…” Another shrug, her eyes flashing. “Just a thought.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes at Esther in warning, an action which had exactly zero effect on the woman who had begun to hum casually. And she kept those eyed narrowed as the seamstress, finally ready, got about prepping her for measurements, so they might start on this dress.

Caroline had not wanted a new dress. Even this garden party was not something that she had been particularly looking forward to. Now… she could not stop but wonder how it might look on her, and if His Grace would like it. And if he did like it, if hereallyliked it, that is, whether he might demonstrate this admiration in ways that she had pictured time and time again.

Such a nice dress, it promised to be. A shame then if it was to be torn from her body and discarded on the floor without thought or concern. Although, and Caroline could not help but grin at the thought, it would not be that much of a shame at all.

Honestly, what was happening to her?

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Itold you that I would be busy today,” Frederick sighed while doing his best to look as busy as he claimed. Head bent over his desk, papers strewed across the table, quill in hand, he thought he was making a rather good go of it.

“And I told you that I did not care,” Esther said pointedly. She stood in the middle of his study, door open behind her, bearing down on him as if she meant to grab him under the shoulders and drag him from his chair herself. “I have been planning this party for days, and the least you could do is show up.”

“Grandmother…”

“Oh, do not grandmother me!” He was not looking at her, but he could see out the corner of his eyes the way she crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him. “Think of how it will look if you do not show.”

“I suspect everyone will be glad for it.”

“They will talk,” she said. “A party at His Grace’s own home, and he could not even bother to come down. For five minutes! That is all I ask. Make an appearance. Shake some hands. Show off that charming smile of yours. Frederick!”

He suppressed a groan and looked up, caught off guard by how dressed up his elderly grandmother was. She looked as if she was going to a ball, wearing a frock of red and yellow with a pattern stitched into it that made the dress look as if it had caught fire. Elegant and regal, opulent and lavish, it was almost certainly too much for a mere garden party. But he supposed that had always been his grandmother’s way.

“What?” She smirked when she saw the look on his face. “Surprised that your grandmother has still got it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you ever stop to think that there might be a reason I do not want to attend this garden party? Please, do not take it personally.”

She frowned. “Well, I know how much you hate social engagements, but that is not a reason to avoid them all together. You are a duke, Frederick. These things are expected. And I guarantee you, half the people downstairs do not want to be here either.”

“You are really selling it.”

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