Page 13 of Drawn to the Duke
There was no time for daydreaming. The duke was to be married. He had no more real interest in her than if she’d been some wild creature from the menagerie at the Tower of London. She had to remind herself of this. Again.
Quickly, Selina communicated what she saw through the glass to the paper that was resting flat and steady on a book of poetry she’d brought along for the task.
Then she held it away from herself to compare the real man with the picture she’d drawn.
And was satisfied.
Lord Chauncy looked every bit the handsome nobleman.
Yes, she would need to make slight alterations when under less duress, but she was satisfied.
Carefully, she rolled up the drawing, securing it with a stone exactly where she and Edward had agreed. He could access it with an arm stretched through the partly open conservatory window, which was much safer than if Selina was detained with it in her possession on her return to the house.
Selina must have beensuccessful at convincing everyone that her absence was due to a megrim, for as she made her way along a corridor towards the guest wing, Lord Chauncy himself questioned Selina on the state of her health with a look of sympathy.
But her suspicions were on alert.
Was he afraid she might fly into a bout of insanity if his cousin had communicated the fact Selina had pleaded a megrim?
She stopped, while Mrs. Piggott and her sister passed by, noses in the air, obviously believing they had put her firmly in her place by burning her drawings. They halted a little distance away, pretending to talk while darting barbed looks in her direction.
“My bed was the restorative I needed,” Selina told Lord Chauncy. “Other than a short bout of pain in my head, I have never felt better and am greatly looking forward to this evening.”
She sent a suspicious look at Mrs. Piggott, who was, no doubt, eager to point out any suggestion of insanity displayed by Selina. However, Selina suspected Mrs. Piggott’s pride would prevent her telling His Grace explicitly about the offensive likeness she’d drawn of her.
Lord Chauncy smiled, his eyes raking her appreciatively from the top of her head to the tips of her slippers. “In that case,” he said, “we are in for some lively conversation. I gather what while your brother’s talent lies in his art, yours lies in other areas. What do you care for, Lady Boothe?”
Selina drew back, surprised at the question but more surprised by the interest in his tone.
She narrowed her eyes, her suspicions on alert. What was he about? Was he preying on the vulnerabilities of a supposedly mad woman whom he found pleasing to the eye? Did he hope to flatter her so that he merely need crook his little finger and she’d go to him? Was that how he entertained himself?
Or was he the one who entertained suspicions about Selina and her real identity and intentions? After all, he’d discovered her prowling about his study in the dark.
She smiled. It would be best to pretend to play the game.
“I care for gaiety and amusement, Your Grace. There is little more to me than what you see.” She indicated her body with a careless flick of her wrist. “An empty-headed woman is what my husband calls me.” She hesitated. “You know already that I speak before I think which is not considered attractive in a woman. To some, it suggests a touch of madness.” Her lips turned up just a little suggestively. Boldly, she added, “Or wantonness.”
“Indeed, Lady Boothe.”
He’d closed the distance between them ever so fractionally. Little matter that Lady Saunders and her sister were staring, goggle-eyed from the end of the corridor. Let them look. Selina was a far more appealing prospect than either of them for a duke wanting diversion.
She didn’t care a jot that Edward might be humiliated by her behaviour. He took advantage of her accomplishments and treated her as if she should be grateful tohimwhen it was only due to Selina that they had managed to retain the family home.
“My husband looks down his nose at frivolity.” Selina sighed. “He is a very serious minded man who, alas, struggles to find the pleasure in life that I long for.” She sent the duke a fulsome look, as she added, “And I do so rail against the chains in which he has bound me. Thank you for including me in your invitation whenyou asked Sir Edward to draw your likeness. It is so liberating to find myself, unfettered, in such an environment.”
“Unfettered?”
Selina shrugged. “I’ve discovered that while a reputation—albeit unfairly earned, in my opinion—could be a millstone around my neck, it does free me from exercising the restraint I might otherwise.” Briefly, she touched his shoulder as she lowered her voice and said, “But here, knowing what everyone already thinks of me, I feel no restraint.”
She heard his breathing, and observed the darkening of his pupils, with a thrill.
“No restraint, eh, Lady Boothe?” he repeated. “Well, we might just have to put that to the test, eh?”
CHAPTER 10
Selina’s heart was full of happy expectation as she dressed for dinner that evening in her one beautiful evening gown, which she’d artfully trimmed with pink and cream bows.
Edward would have collected the likeness she had drawn of Lord Chauncy from the agreed hiding place. He might even smile and compliment her work. That would be a welcome change.
