Page 61 of The Duke's Vice

Graham sputtered on his drink. “Heavens, no!” He started laughing as he wiped away spilt ale from his shirt.

“That would be like courting my sister.” He said with a shudder.

She knew his words shouldn’t mean anything. With the widow or not, she promised herself she would not lose herself to wild daydreams of her and the Duke being together. Still she had to bite her lip from letting her smile grow too wide.

“Melinda is an old family friend, she introduced this establishment to me and Frederic. Another friend of mine,” he added at her questioning look. “Freddy had a bit of a crush on the old gal when we were younger, but it didn’t work out. Her family owns this bar.” He looked up. “Well, her father did. It’s hers now.”

Beatrice looked back to Melinda who was laughing, her head thrown back in glee. “So she keeps your secrets.”

Graham threw back some ale. “And I keep hers.”

Beatrice looked at him quizzically.

He waved her off. “Another time. Let’s get started shall we?”

After several rounds of poker, it didn’t take long for Beatrice to realize she had a very good poker face. Unfortunately, for her, her supposed husband knew each one of her tells.

“I can’t believe you called my bluff!” She giggled as she drank the last of her ale. She couldn’t remember how many glasses she had, although, she didn’t care. Her head felt fuzzy and it felt like she was walking on air with every step.

She loved it.

“Much like your books, mouse, I can read you just as easily.” His words were slightly slurred, which Beatrice found endearing.

She couldn’t help but sit and stare at the man in front of her. Gone was the perfectly poised and dignified man that turned his nose up at any social event that made him interact with others. Her bleary eyes looked around the room. He talked to anyone and everyone about anything and everything. There wasn’t a person Graham didn’t talk to at some point in the evening. Some were short conversations, others were long-winded of shared experiences that had Beatrice laughing until her sides hurt.

Her eyes returned to him as he finished his ale. His hair was even more mussed now, he lost his vest an hour ago and his sleeves were rolled up to show off his sculpted forearms. Beatrice’s entire body heated. He looked delicious.

Her hands itched to reach into the luscious dark locks and tug on them like she did when they last kissed. She licked her lips at the thought.

“I’ve gotten used to you staring and drifting off into space, but your eyes are starting to blink so slow I fear one time they won’t reopen and you’ll pass out on me.”

Beatrice blinked a few times, trying to steady her vision.

“I must be lost to my cups because I have no idea what you mean.” She giggled so much she snorted. She covered her mouth in surprise.

Her reaction only made Graham laugh harder. The sound of his laughter clicked something inside of her.

“Come on, Colette. I think it’s time to go.” He snaked one hand around her back while his other slipped underneath her legs. From her sitting position he hoisted her up and carried her towards the door.

“Go take care of your bride, Mr. Linden!” Beatrice heard Melinda’s call. She wanted to smile at her, or wave, but her headfelt heavy. Her head felt comfortable resting against Graham’s chest and she had no desire to lift it.

She felt the room change from the darker back room the lighter main room. She opened one eye to see a vastly different scene than the one they walked into hours ago. Only a few people remained and they were either quietly talking to a friend or slumped over on a table snoring.

“Good to see you, again, Tommy boy. Have fun with the missus, eh? Don’t stay away too long next time.” The old man she first met when they arrived called out to them.

Beatrice could feel Graham nod his head as he pushed through the broken front door. Cool air washed over her body causing her to burrow further into his warm body.

Her world tilted when Graham placed her down on the ground and leaned her up against a wall. Once he made sure she was steady he stepped away.

She had a moment of instability as gravity tried to pull her down.

“Give me a moment, I’m going to call for our carriage.”

Beatrice tried to shake her head but it only dropped. She didn’t have the strength to pull it back up. The realization made her want to laugh, but in her drunken state she could only manage a small lilt to her lips. Her face and fingertips felt numb but other than that she felt relaxed and at ease.

It was a glorious feeling.

A shadow came across her feet and a familiar hand lifted her chin.

---