Page 13 of His Tempting Duchess

The duke leveled a cool, even stare at the man, who had the sense to cringe. “Why don’t you look at some of the pictures, Titus? Take your time. Really have a good look, eh?”

Titus scurried away, muttering to himself under his breath, but not so loud as to risk the duke hearing him.

The three of them watched him go, and Emily was sure she saw something like chagrin on his face.

Sensing her gaze on him, he turned back to face her. In an instant, the mask was back, calm and impenetrable, that smile flashing once again.

To her horror, she felt a twinge of something that felt very much like attraction in her chest.

It’s entirely natural.Yes, his character is offensive and entirely off-putting, but he has a verynice face and a remarkable pair of shoulders, and it’s natural to find such a thing alluring.

All I must do is make sure that my silly fantasies do not get in the way of rational thinking. It’s not as if I want to marry this man. I had a narrow escape, after all.

“What are you doing here, Your Grace?” Emily heard herself asking, refusing to back away.

He was standing a little too close, with the excuse of being hemmed in by the crowds, and her skin was prickling.

The duke pursed his lips. “Can’t a man visit his betrothed?”

Emily sucked in a breath. “I amnotyour betrothed.”

“It’s true,” Daphne chipped in. “She’s not. You’d better go, or else I’ll hit you with my parasol. I have more at home, so it doesn’t matter if this one gets bent.”

The duke stared at her for a long moment. Daphne stared back.

“I see,” he said, eventually. “Well, I hoped to converse with Miss Belmont in private. Could we perhaps organize such a thing? In this busy art gallery, I am sure it would not be improper.”

Daphne clenched her jaw, glancing at her sister.

Emily felt torn. On the one hand, she did not want to talk to the duke any more than she had to. Talking with that man felt like being circled by a wolf, anticipating it to pounce at any moment. He had the most infuriating air about him, as if he knew everything and had all the answers.

Most irritatingly of all, it seemed that he oftendid.

If I don’t speak to him here, he’ll only waylay me somewhere else. It might be a more embarrassing incident.

She sighed, nodding at Daphne. “Five minutes. I’ll speak to him for five minutes, and then we’re leaving.”

They had planned to tour the gallery, of course, but Emily found that her joy in her own painting was now somewhat subdued. The thrill of seeing her work on display was rather muted these days, and she could only focus on the disappointing words beneath the frame:Anon.

Daphne pursed her lips, clearly displeased. “Fine. But you mustn’t go far. And after five minutes, Ishalltrack you down and drag you away.”

This last part seemed more for the duke’s benefit than anything else. He executed an elegant bow, to which she glared.

Turning on her heel, Daphne flounced off, leaving Emily and the duke alone.

They were notreallyalone, of course. The circular room was filling up again, a new crowd gathering in front ofWoman In The Window.

The duke’s fingers curled around her elbow without warning, leading her away.

Emily allowed herself to be led, more out of surprise than anything else. He led her across to a smaller painting of a bed of flowers, which had earned fewer spectators thanWoman In The Window.

“What is your game?” she hissed, as soon as they were more or less alone. “You know that Titus Greaves didn’t paintWoman In The Window, or any of Anon’s other works. And you know it because you know thatIam Anon.”

“Quite right,” the duke agreed. “My dear Titus is a rather accomplished artist himself, and I do believe that if he were put to the test, hecouldproduce a very pretty painting.”

“I can believe that,” she muttered. “Who is he?”

“An actor, of course.”

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