Page 37 of The Dark Duke's Virgin

She forced herself not to chuckle. “Give it time, Your Grace, for I have no doubt it will happen soon enough. If not from me, surely someone else here is champing at the bit for it. You do make it so easy.”

“It is a gift.”

“Make sure you use said gift wisely,” she responded coolly, another sip of wine, “or else I cannot be held responsible for what I might say.”

“And here I had the impression that such worries did not concern you. Certainly, they have not so far.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that I am trying to set a good example for your daughter. How would it look if she was to see me insulting you for…” Another sip of wine and her eyes flashed as she looked him over. “Oh, I don’t know, walking about this party for the last thirty minutes as if you had a stick wedged up your backside.”

His Grace stiffened at the jibe, and she braced herself for his retort. “I suspect that she would find it amusing, likely filing it away to use on me later.”

She frowned at the coolness of his response, the way he managed to hold back his anger.

“The same goes if I was to ask that you slow down on the wine that you have been guzzling since I first saw you,” he suggested with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk, indicating the glass in her hand. “At the rate you are drinking, we’re bound to run out soon.”

Again, she forced herself not to react in the positive. A glare instead, and she took another sip while holding him in it. “Perhaps you could use one yourself? Although that might put you at risk of enjoying yourself. We would hate for that to happen.”

“Any more wine, Miss Dowding, and you might enjoy yourself a little too much,” he shot back, still cool and collected. “All the single men about, I might have to warn them to be on their guard.”

She widened her eyes at him, an effort to show a level of anger that she was not feeling in the way that she thought she might be. “At least we do not have to worry about giving you the same warning.” Another sip, this one finishing the glass; she could feel it swirling through her body, warming it, dulling her senses in a way that was dangerous and very much needed. “All the wine in the world would not be enough.”

His eyes flashed as if he was enjoying himself. “Is that a challenge?”

This time, she could not keep her smile down. “Fetch me another glass, and we shall see.”

They were still fighting. Still bickering. Still that sense that the two loathed one another, and yet, it felt different to the last time. This was playful, Caroline thought, almost flirtatious. It was as if His Grace wanted her to tease him.

Eyeing him curiously now, she wondered at what he was playing here. Even more so when he fetched a drink from a nearby waiter, getting one for himself, and then handing it to her without comment or derision. He held his up in a cheers, she returned it, and the two drank deeply, looking over the lips of their glasses as if waiting for the other to blink.

“Ah…” He smacked his lips. “I can feel myself loosening already.”

She snorted without meaning to. “It will take a lot more than that.” He took another, larger mouthful, and she laughed. “Careful, Your Grace. We do not want people thinking that you are enjoying yourself. I believe such an event as that is one of the signs of the apocalypse.”

“Ironic,” he chuckled. “As I would much rather attend that particular function than this one. At least, it would not be so dull.”

She frowned at the comment, for it was not something she might expect him to say. Caroline’s impression of His Grace was that he was the perfect lord, a bastion of social decorum and etiquette, the very type of man who sought these types of events because to them it was the very best of times. In other words, a total bore.

“I would have thought you would be enjoying yourself,” she said carefully… only to break into a smirk. “Well, as much as one such as you are able.”

He rolled his eyes and took another sip of wine. “Hardly. I do not know if you bothered speaking to any of my grandmother’s friends, but the words pretentious and insufferable are just some of the many I would use to describe them.”

“Are we speaking of them or you?” she frowned jokingly.

He looked at her flatly. “You cannot help yourself, can you?”

“What can I say,” she said with a shrug. “You make it so easy.”

Caroline was glad that she had not walked away when the chance had presented itself. Dammit, she was glad that she was giving His Grace a second chance. She had wanted to dislike him. She had needed to hate him, for that felt like the only option when they first met. But this snippet of a conversation they were having right now, one where His Grace was behaving like a normal person for a darn change, was a revelation into the man who he was, not who he wanted people to see him as.

She took a coy sip of wine, eyes working over him quickly, only too happy to admit to herself this time that the attraction she had felt for him since the first time they had met was perfectly justified.

Even outside in the open like this, he was still undeniably large in size, his broad shoulders spreading far in both directions, his stature strong and intimidating and impressive. But it was his face that she focused on now, those dark blue eyes like deep pools, that strong jawline and his thick lips, his wavy black hair that he had combed down while still somehow managing to make it appear unmanageable and wild.

Feeling her heart begin to flutter, she looked away.

“Tell me,” he began conversationally, seeming to relax in a way she had never seen him do before, “how are lessons progressing with my daughter?”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Very well.”

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