Page 17 of A Duchess Bound
Gerard sighed dramatically. “My lady, it wounds me to hear you say such.”
“Of course, it does,” she replied dryly. “Tell me, Your Grace. Is it more like a bullet or a sword?”
“Both at once. It is agony beyond compare,” he said. “I am being flayed by your tongue.”
Pontoun looked over his shoulder and cast them a confused look. Gerard imagined that he had only caught a small piece of the conversation and was struggling to understand it.
“The more I dissuade you, the more you seem to delight in my misery.”
“Delighting in your misery?”
Had she surmised the real reason that he had chosen to approach her and Lady Bridget? He cast her a sly, sideways glance, but she seemed entirely unaffected.
Perhaps, he should not be surprised. She was a spinster, after all, and he did not imagine that she would ever even consider that hemighthave approached them just to speak with her. It was the woman’s own fault for being so lovely in her fury.
“That is what you are doing,” she hissed. “And you are doing it while threatening to ruin my sister with your very presence.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I am wounded that you think so.”
Lady Dorothy’s nose wrinkled, as though she had caught the scent of something unpleasant. “You keep talking about wounds. I wonder if you have ever once given thought to the wounds thatyouhave inflicted, however, upon innocent ladies!”
As she spoke, her face reddened, and the pitch of her voice rose higher. Gerard’s blood grew hotter in his veins. Every ounce of her defiance burned through him, and he ached with thoughts of how much sweeter her fire would make his conquest.
And her submission would be all the more sweet if it was something he had fought for and earned.
“I think about it often,” he purred. “Every day, in fact.”
She dropped her hand from his arm and stormed ahead. “Bridget, it is time that we leave these fine gentlemen and return home.”
Lady Bridget started, her brow furrowing in confusion. The expression was sweet and innocent, and if Lady Dorothy had not been sointeresting, he would have found himself utterly charmed by her face.
“Do we need to leave so suddenly?” Lady Bridget asked. “The gentlemen have only just joined us.”
“I have given them a heartbeat of our time,” Lady Dorothy said viciously. “That is far more than they deserve.”
Pontoun looked vaguely affronted, and Gerard felt a pinch of guilt for having, in all likelihood, ruined his friend’s chance at making a good impression on Lady Bridget. Still, Pontoun was a good man, and Gerard was certain that the man would find a proper love elsewhere.
“How generous you are,” Gerard said. “An entire heartbeat of your time.”
“It is more than a rake deserves!” she snapped. “And you are a rake. If you were not, you would know when you are not welcome somewhere, and you would have already left! Youwould have the decency to choose a lady’s comfort over your own selfish desires!”
Gerard’s lips twitched in amusement. He bowed, his eyes never leaving Lady Dorothy’s face. “As you wish, my lady. It was a rare joy to spar with you once again.”
He cast Pontoun an apologetic glance. Then, he turned on his heels and strode in the other direction. After a few steps, he heard Pontoun following.
Then, the man’s hand landed on his shoulder. “What wasthat?” he hissed.
Gerard shrugged nonchalantly. “I merely spoke to the lady. I was quite civil.”
“Were you?” Pontoun asked flatly, glancing over his shoulder.
Gerard followed his friend’s gaze and found the ladies were walking away. Lady Dorothy was moving exceedingly quickly, her gown tangling about her legs due to her fast pace.
“Yes,” Gerard said. “However, there is something about my character which seems to greatly vex Lady Dorothy.”
“I wonder what that is.”
“You are not angry with me, are you?” Gerard asked.
