Page 15 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

The Duke perhaps thought he was warning her away, but he had given her something far more valuable than threats.

He had given her inspiration.

Later that evening, Leo stood near the refreshment table and watched Marina from across the ballroom as she conversed with Lady Clarkshire and the Marchioness of Headley.

The light from the chandeliers caught the caramel highlights in her dark curls. Her face lit up as she laughed at something her friend said. He was so absorbed in his observation that he barely noticed Lord Clarkshire until he was beside him.

“Your Grace,” Harold acknowledged with a slight bow. “I must thank you for your intervention earlier. Those young men were unconscionably rude to Lady Asquith.”

Leo tore his gaze away from Marina, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing footman. His expression remained impassive though inwardly he was still seething at the memory of those callow lordlings and their cutting remarks.

“The ton has always preferred cruelty disguised as wit,” he replied, the champagne bitter on his tongue despite its quality. “Your defense of Lady Asquith does you credit, Lord Clarkshire.”

“Marina—Lady Asquith is like family,” Harold said simply. “She deserves far better than the treatment society has afforded her.”

Something in Leo’s chest tightened at the man’s obvious affection for Marina. His gaze sharpened as he reassessed Lord Clarkshire. “You seem well acquainted with her circumstances.”

“I have known her since before her marriage.” Harold studied the Duke carefully, and Leo felt himself being measured by the shorter man’s shrewd eyes. “Asquith was not a kind man. The ton blames her for his vices, but those who actually knew him understood his nature long before she entered his life. Except for his heir, I suppose.”

“And yet she is the one who bears the whispers and cold shoulders,” Leo observed, his voice hardening as he glanced back at her, noticing now the slight tension in her shoulders despite her smiling facade.

“Such is the lot of women in our society.” Harold took a sip of his champagne. “Their reputations are fragile, easily shattered, and nearly impossible to repair. Which makes me wonder,” he added, “about your intentions toward her.”

Leo’s eyebrows rose, surprised by the man’s directness. “My intentions?”

“Come now, Your Grace. That waltz was hardly subtle. Half the ballroom is already speculating.”

Leo resisted the urge to glance around the room, to see if it was true that they were the subject of whispered conversations and meaningful looks. Instead, he kept his gaze steady on Clarkshire.

“And you wish to ensure those speculations don’t harm Lady Asquith further.”

It wasn’t a question.

“You understand my meaning.” Harold’s amiable expression didn’t waver, but his voice held a note of warning. “Lady Asquith has few protectors in society. Caroline and I count ourselves among them.”

Leo studied the shorter man with new respect. Behind Lord Clarkshire’s good-natured exterior lay an iron will and a loyalty that Lady Asquith was fortunate to have. He found himself oddly reassured that she had such loyal friends, even as he bristled at being regarded as a potential threat to her wellbeing.

“Your concern is honorable, Clarkshire,” Leo said, setting down his barely-touched champagne. “But you don’t need to worry. I have no intention of adding to Lady Asquith’s difficulties.”

Whether that was the complete truth, however, was a matter of which even Leo himself wasn’t entirely certain.

His gaze drifted back to Marina, and a surge of desire and irritation rose inside him.

How could one woman so thoroughly disrupt his carefully ordered existence?

CHAPTER 6

“Isee you haven’t lost your touch for commanding the attention of every lady in the room,” came a familiar drawl. “Still, that was quite the gallant rescue.”

Leo turned from watching Marina’s retreat to find Gerald Milbourne, Duke of Irondale, approaching with his duchess on his arm. Close behind them were Dorian and Alice Fairfax, the Duke and Duchess of Ashthorne.

“Irondale.” Leo clasped his old friend’s hand. “Your letters didn’t mention your wife had made you almost respectable.”

“Almost being the operative word,” Seraphina said with a warm smile—they had met briefly during Leo’s quick return for the Earl of Treyfield’s funeral, but she seemed to have fully integrated herself into their circle since then. “Though I doubt anyone could manage the feat completely.”

“I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to Ashthorne’s wife.”

“Your Grace.” Dorian’s wife dropped into a curtsy. “I’ve heard so much about you from my husband.”

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