Page 32 of His Ruined Duchess

“Good evening, miss.” She glanced over at him, the surprise on her face quickly switching to interest. “Allow me to pay for your drink.”

She grinned, nothing shy or restrained about it. “Thank you, kind sir. And might I sit with you then? I would adore having a gentleman such as yourself to talk to.”

It was clear he hadn’t lost his charm or the easy appeal of his looks, and Hugh silently preened that it hadn’t taken long at all to find exactly what he was looking for in a companion for the evening. He’d done this several times before his title forced him to abandon these cherished evenings of “inappropriate” behavior.

In truth, he didn’t take women to bed as often as the rumors might suggest, but he was hardly a monk. Hughwasguilty of enjoying women on a regular basis. Still, he had always kept his attention focused on those who would not suffer from him, and it was freeing to be back in that place again with no ton to impress and appease in sight.

“Please do,” he replied, his smile turning devilish as he wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist and led her away from the bar with their drinks in hand. “An evening ofconversationis just what I had in mind.”

They sat in a set of chairs near the back door for a few minutes, sipping idly at their drinks before Hugh whispered to the woman too low for any of the patrons to hear, and they slyly crept into the alley. The thrill of taking someone in such a public place, admittedly a favorite of his, bubbled through his veins as Hugh led his partner for the evening to a shadowy corner of the alley and pressed her back against the wall.

Any actual conversation died when they stepped outside, the two of them being utterly silent as the sounds of passersby echoed through the streets around them. There was no precise way to tell who was near them and what they might see as Hugh’s lips found the crook of the lass’s neck, a needy moan slipping from her.

It was clear she enjoyed the idea that they might be caught as much as he did when a tiny whisper sounded in his ear.

“Yes, right here. Right in the open.”

Hugh grinned against the unnamed woman’s flesh, having not learned what it might be or anything much about her beyond the fact that she was attractive and happy to engage in a quick moment of passion with him. He reached for the hem of her gown, bunching it up so that he could get at her.

There were firm muscles beneath the woman’s soft skin, and her red locks tumbled free in random places as she arched against the brick wall behind her. The moment was heated, undoubtedly, but Hugh found himself not quite physically ready to act on his desire.

“Your touch is fire,” the woman crooned, and Hugh swallowed hard, a lump in his throat.

As he looked down at her, her eyes squeezed shut, Hugh suddenly saw black curls where there were meant to be red tresses. He saw deep brown eyes where this woman’s were blue.

Suddenly, his heart pounded furiously in his chest, and he could not blame it on exhilaration or arousal. His movements stilled, his fingers releasing their hold on the woman’s dress, and he stepped back, a strange nausea clinging to his stomach.

“What is it?” the woman asked, her brow furrowed as she looked up at him, disheveled and flushed.

“I… I cannot. I am terribly sorry.”

Shock took the woman’s face, but then she eyed him, her expression changing as she threw him a knowing look and smirked.

“Bring her over. I can entertain the both of you.”

Hugh pulled back, his brow squeezing as he shook his head. “I have no idea what you are talking about. You are wrong. I-I must go. Excuse me.”

Without another word, Hugh spun on his heel and fled the alley, searching out on the front street for his carriage and immediately flinging himself inside it. His heart screamed in his ears, a boom that shook him with each beat as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Your Grace,” the driver spoke from just outside the carriage door, “has there been a change in plans? Are you quite all right?”

His head was still swimming from the drink he’d taken in a bit too quickly, but Hugh nodded, racking his mind for somewhere else to go because he couldnotreturn to Soulden estate.

“Yes. Take me to the residence of my solicitor, a Mr. Jonah McMills. We have retrieved him from his home previously.”

“Of course, Your Grace. At once.”

The tiger left him, taking his place on the carriage, and then it hurried forward to bring him to Jonah’s. His closest friend was the only place in the whole of London he could think to go just now, and Hugh quietly begged for the journey to be over with quickly.

By the time the coach pulled up to Jonah’s, Hugh felt slightly better. The rage of the alcohol had subsided somewhat in his blood, but he was still particularly distraught over what had happened with the woman outside the tavern. He stepped down from the coach a little clumsily and went to Jon’h's door, pounding to be let inside.

A few moments later, the door opened, and Jonah stood before Hugh, looking especially annoyed and fatigued.

“What in God’s name are you doing here, Hugh? I was making myself ready for bed.”

“Apologies, sincerely, but please do not force me to remain out on the street, Jonah. Let me in. It has been an awful set of days.”

Rolling his eyes, Jonah stepped to the side, allowing the Duke entrance and showed Hugh back to his kitchen where Jonah forced him to take a seat and imbibe a strong cup of tea.

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