Page 50 of Bound to a Wicked Duke

The way he said her name caused shivers of longing to travel up and down her spine. The feel of his thumb drawing soothing circles on the inside of her wrist was hypnotic, enveloping her into a sense of security as her muscles relaxed in response. When it came to Percival Hardy, her body had a mind of its own. When he was near, as he was now, all she could think about was how much she desired him.

When he pulled away, Madeleine felt bereft and could not help the pout that tugged at her lips. She was drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, attempting to nibble away some of her new feelings, when his fingertips grazed up her spine before wrapping around the back of her neck. Like he had with his thumb, Percy began to massage and soothe the expanse of flesh there, melting away the tension in her muscles.

“You must keep your head up and your eyes open, darling,” Percy commanded, his tone gentle, firm, and only loud enough for her to hear.

Madeleine let out a soft gasp as she threw her eyes open and lifted her head back up to the view of the stage. His soothing touch had worked too well, and she had, if only for a moment, forgotten herself and where she was.

She reached into her mind for a witty comeback—something to say that would deny his ego of the unspoken compliment she’djust given him to his touch—but instead she merely whispered, “Apologies. I… I do not know what just happened.”

Madeleine felt Percy’s eyes looking at her from her side, studying her closely, but she did not dare look back at him. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on the stage, even though she had no idea what part of the opera was now being performed. Finally, she felt Percy’s gaze slip back to the stage. A moment later, he gave the back of her neck one more intimate squeeze, nearly making her whimper, and then slipped his hand back to hers, enveloping her much smaller fingers easily into his.

With how quickly you shift from cold to warm, I am starting to think that you, Your Grace, are the thing that I should fear,Madeleine thought silently to herself, remembering his words when the stage had been disrupted. In spite of this internal warning, she did not remove her hand from his grasp.

They sat holding each other’s hands until her father slipped into the box. In the end, it was Percy who pulled away first, and Madeleine’s heart ached at the absence of his touch. Despite her best efforts to do otherwise, her feelings for the Duke had changed. Her heart had become too involved.

After the opera was over, Madeleine needed a moment to herself. Percy’s distant behavior after their brief moment of emotional connection had caused her to feel as if she might cry. She did not understand it and needed to take back control of herself. She needed to erect the emotional walls firmly back up around her heart. Excusing herself from her companions, she made her way to the refreshment table.

“You look lovely as always,” Laura Knight’s voice complimented from beside her.

Madeleine looked up and greeted her with a smile. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Laura. As do you! Your gown becomes you perfectly.”

Laura accepted a drink from the attendant, and the two ladies moved over to a seat by one of the front windows. “That is kind of you to say. How have you been?” she asked between sips of her drink.

“Honestly, I have been confused since our last meeting,” Madeleine confessed. Though, she was not sure why. Though they had beenfriendly,she had not yet had a chance to get to know Laura well enough to call herfriend.

“Oh?” Laura responded, her delicate brows drawing down as a pout formed on her pink lips. “Well, I certainly did not mean to cause you such feelings. Is there a question I can answer that may perhaps quell your mind?”

Though she had said so in a perfectly appropriate way, Madeleine felt a subtle hint of danger as she saw, for a moment, pure glee flash through the woman’s eyes. Choosing to ignore it, she pressed on. At this point, it did not matter who the source was, only that the truth came forth.

“When we last spoke, you mentioned someone by the name of Francis having died as a result of a curse. Who was Francis?” she asked.

“Oh, my dear, he has not told you?” Laura gave her a look of deep sympathy.

Madeleine shook her head. “Should he have?”

Laura shrugged as if she did not care, but it seemed as if she was struggling for a moment not to smile.

“Were it I that he was courting, I would wish to know.” Laura patted Madeleine’s hand as if to lend her courage. “Francis was the Duke’s betrothed. The Duke loved her very much. She was killed in a terrible carriage accident on her way to meet with the Duke at his estate. She had been quite ill and should not have been out and about. Perhaps he did not tell you because he is still in love with her and did not wish to hurt you. Or perhaps he feels guilt for her death.”

Laura shrugged her shoulders again—as if the information was as trivial as the comedic pamphlets that were sold in the park.

Madeleine felt every muscle in her body grow still as she contemplated Laura’s revelation. Was it true? Percy had been betrothed before? And she had died? Why did Madeleine not know? Why did her brother not know?

“Lady Madeleine,” a masculine voice broke into her revery, and she looked up to find one of her many suitors standing in front of her.

“Mr. MacElroy, how lovely to see you,” she forced out politely.

Pushing this new information to the back of her mind, Madeleine pulled forth her best talents and appeared unbothered as she accepted the new company.

“May I introduce you to Lady Laura Knight? Lady Laura, this is Mr. Hamish MacElroy. Mr. MacElroy’s father and my own are associates in the slate business,” she explained to Laura.

“A pleasure, My Lady.” MacElroy bowed and kissed both Laura and Madeleine’s hands.

Hamish MacElroy was charming, and Madeleine did not mind his company. Out of all of her suitors, he was the one that she could actually stand to be around. They had had many riveting conversations about books that they had read and his exciting travels. He somewhat reminded her of Percy but without the childhood emotional baggage or sensual charisma that she had with the Duke. She simply enjoyed MacElroy’s company.

“I read the book that you recommended,” MacElroy informed her, taking the seat beside her. “It was indeed thought provoking.”

Madeleine smiled at him, pleased that he had read it. “I am glad that you enjoyed it. The author is brilliant, is he not?”

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