Page 57 of The Duke's Vice

Beatrice’s eyes widened in delight leaving Ezra feeling quite proud of himself.

He came to stand next to her. He leaned down to whisper in ear as he took her hand in his.

“I know you’d prefer if I don’t call you ‘mouse.’ How about for this evening I call you by a different name?”

Beatrice blinked, her excitement was practically radiating from her skin. She turned to him with bright, anxious eyes. “Depends. What would you call me?”

“Wife.”

If he wasn’t holding her hand Beatrice would’ve dropped dead from shock right then and there. She couldn’t possibly have guessed what he would call her, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Wife?” She squeaked.

Ezra’s eyes danced around the room, searching for something. Her eyes were still on him, trying to convince herself what she just heard she actually, in fact, just heard.

She opened her mouth to repeat the word when Graham pulled her to an empty table by the bar. He sat in a chair and motioned for her to sit in the chair beside him.

Beatrice’s eye bounced around the room. There was so much to take in she didn’t know where to look first. When she turned back to Graham his closeness startled her. He was leaning towards her that their noses practically touched when she looked at him.

“Listen to me. I didn’t lie to you when I said that I’ve been coming here for years. When I inherited the duchy there was a lot of…” Graham shook his head, “let’s just say I needed a place where people didn’t know who I was. A friend of mine brought me here and this has been my secret to this day.”

Beatrice listened intently. One would have assumed it would be hard for her to hear the whispers of a man but nothing could tear her gaze from his lips as he spoke to her.

At the mention of a ‘friend’ her heart squeezed and she tried to hide her grimace. What did she know? Just because she just heard that the Duke and an old ‘female’ friend reconnected, did not mean the friend in question is the same person. He could be talking about an old friend.

Her womanly intuition told her otherwise.

She reminded herself that no matter what these people knew of him, Graham was a Duke and could take whomever he pleased.

Why couldn’t it have been me?

Beatrice shook the wayward thought from her mind. She returned her focus on the man in front of her.

“They think I’m a solicitor. And you, my dear, are going to be introduced as my wife.”

Beatrice swallowed hard. She felt her cheeks turn red with heat.

“I.. I’m not sure I can do that.” Her eyes fell to her lap.

Graham lifted her chin with one finger. “My rules, remember? What I say goes. And I say tonight, you’re my wife.” With each word he leaned in closer until his mouth was whispering against hers.

“What say you?” His words brushed against her lips.

Beatrice’s body reacted before her mind. She closed the minute distance between them.

When she pulled away she found his eyes still on her.

“We’ve sealed our deal with a kiss, I thought it would be appropriate to continue the tradition.” She said with a sly smile.

Graham sat back in his chair. “I think we’ll get along just fine tonight.”

Just then a rotund older man came staggering up to the table. “Thomas? Thomas Linden, is that you, boy?”

Beatrice noted his name change and reminded herself they didn’t know who he truly was.

The old man sputtered and coughed. His face red before he chugged more ale from his mug.

“Charlie, my boy, it’s good to see you.” Graham stood up, hitting the man on the back to help him breathe.

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