Page 62 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“If that was merely duty, I fear for the safety of the ballroom should genuine passion ever enter the equation,” Caroline teased. “The air between you was positively combustible.”

Before Marina could plan a suitable denial, they were joined by a tall, fair-haired gentleman with an earnest expression.

“Cousin Caroline,” he bowed politely. “And the new Duchess of Blackmere, I presume?”

Caroline made the introductions with her usual grace. “Viscount Durching is my mother’s sister’s son, Marina. He’s recently returned from an extended stay in Italy.”

“The Duchess is even lovelier than rumored,” Durching said with another bow. “Though I confess I’m more intrigued by your literary reputation than your beauty, Your Grace.”

Marina raised an eyebrow. “My literary reputation, Lord Durching?”

“Caroline mentioned your passion for books and ideas,” he clarified quickly. “A woman of intellect is a rarity in our circles. I’ve just finished Wordsworth’s latest, and I’m curious whether you found his celebration of nature as compelling as his earlier work.”

“His earlier poems felt more real to me,” Marina replied, happy to discuss something of interest. “But I think the new ones about memory and life’s end have some truly beautiful passages.”

“I agree,” Durching nodded, his face lighting up. “That part about finding ‘strength in what remains’ was quite touching. Don’t you find comfort in such thoughts?”

“Sometimes,” Marina said, considering her answer. “But I prefer the poets who write about our current times. They face the chaos of modern life instead of just escaping to peaceful country scenes.”

“You enjoy those more modern writers?” Durching looked surprised. “I find their work too emotional and almost improper in how direct they are.”

“Not improper,” Marina corrected him. “Truthful. They write about people as they really are, not how we pretend to be.”

Durching moved closer, lowering his voice. “Lady Rutherford would be shocked to hear you defend such authors in her home. She called that latest book ‘not fit for gentle readers.’”

“Then I won’t tell her I keep those books in my own home,” Marina replied with a smile. “What did you think of that new poem everyone’s talking about? The one critics can’t seem to agree on?”

“A promising work, but not perfect,” Durching offered. “The descriptions often overshadow the actual meaning.”

The conversation continued pleasantly between them with Durching showing more thoughtfulness than Marina hadexpected. She enjoyed using her mind again after weeks of focusing on household tasks and social events.

Yet even as she debated the merits of various poets with the Viscount, Marina remained hyperaware of Leo across the ballroom. Her gaze kept finding him among the crowd, tracking his movements as he spoke with Lord Blytheton and several other gentlemen.

Once, he glanced up and caught her watching, the hint of a smile touching his lips before he returned his attention to his companions.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Your Grace?” Durching asked as the orchestra began tuning for a country dance.

Marina hesitated briefly, her eyes automatically seeking Leo again before she reminded herself that dancing with others was perfectly acceptable, even expected.

“I would be delighted, Lord Durching.”

Though pleasant and technically accomplished, dancing with Durching felt entirely different from her waltz with Leo. There was none of the electricity, none of the heightened awareness that had made every point of contact with her husband seem significant. The Viscount’s hand at her waist was merely a hand, his conversation merely words that required polite responses.

As the dance concluded, Marina thanked Durching for the pleasant interlude, her mind already drifting back to the puzzle that was her husband.

Why did Leo’s touch affect her so differently? And more troublingly, why did she find herself increasingly reluctant to maintain the emotional distance that had seemed so essential just weeks ago?

CHAPTER 22

“Lord Durching seems to have caught your wife’s interest,” Noah remarked casually, sipping his champagne as he followed Leo’s gaze across the ballroom. “They’ve been in deep conversation for quite some time now.”

Leo didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he watched Marina laugh at something the Viscount said. The man stood entirely too close to her, his fair head bent attentively toward her upturned face.

“She’s merely being polite,” Leo finally replied though his tone lacked conviction.

“Of course,” Noah agreed, too readily. “Though I must say, politeness rarely involves quite so much animated discussion or… ah, now he’s asking her to dance.”

Leo’s fingers clenched around his glass as he watched Marina accept Durching’s invitation, allowing the man to lead her onto the dance floor for a country dance. The casual way the Viscount’s hand settled at her waist sent a surge of possessive anger through Leo that caught him entirely off guard.

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