Page 51 of The Duke of Seduction
“And when did he kiss your neck?” Sarah asked. “You said that was the first part.”
Lavinia thought back. “Oh goodness… three weeks ago? Before—” She caught herself just before she said “he.” “Before the Duke of Seduction wrote about me. It was the Evenrude ball—the night we met you, Fanny.”
At Fanny’s nod, Lavinia continued. “I went to the library to read a geological manuscript, and while I was seated on the settee—my back was to the door—he kissed my nape.”
“You didn’t hear him come in?” Fanny asked.
“No. I was too engrossed.”
“Unsurprising,” Sarah said with a soft smile. “Why did he do that?”
“He thought I was the woman he was meeting to…you know.” Lavinia left her name out, as she’d promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Just as she’d said she wouldn’t tell anyone he was the Duke of Seduction. That information, however, was burning her tongue. Still, she was nothing if not loyal, so she’d simply go home and unburden her feelings about his interfering in her life to her diary. Yes, she hadn’t done that in quite some time, and she found she had a bit to say on the matter.
Sarah giggled. “Oh my. What did he do when he discovered you weren’t her?”
“He apologized. Profusely. I was rather angry.”
“As you should have been,” Fanny said. She leaned close, her eyes expectant. “But wasn’t it exciting?”
Exciting? At the time, it had given rise to panic. But since then, she’d thought of it—and him—so often that she supposed she could attribute some adjective to it. “It was…memorable.”
“Clearly, for you and he have developed an association—you talked at the Fortescues’, you’ve promenaded at the park, and he even took you home in his curricle after you pretended to faint.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I asked if he was courting you, and you said no. Yet you kissed him tonight.”
There was so much Lavinia could reveal—about his secret, about their alliance, which came from that secret, about him giving her fossils… But she couldn’t say any of that, not without crafting a giant lie. Better to simply omit.
Suddenly, she wanted to leave.
“Yes, I kissed him. Or he kissed me.” Lavinia waved her hand and hoped she portrayed the appropriate level of insouciance. “It was a mutual curiosity, and one that won’t be repeated. Northam is a rake, and I shouldn’t want to be courted by one such as him.”
“Don’t write him off for that,” Fanny said with determination. “My sister did that with West and ended up being wrong about him. She has said multiple times that she’d never been more glad to be wrong about someone.”
Lavinia supposed she could be wrong about Beck, but he’d certainly demonstrated his penchant for “rakish things,” to use his words. She’d seen him talking with Lady Fairwell at the park. What if he was still carrying on with her?
“I don’t know that I’m wrong about Lord Northam,” she said, rising from the settee.
The others stood with her, and Sarah said, “I suppose time will tell.”
It would, and in the meantime, Lavinia wouldn’t wait around to find out.
* * *
Strollinginto Brooks’s the following evening, Beck went directly to the small drawing room where he might run into Felix. If he was there. It was a bit early yet, and Beck would be content to simply sip a whiskey.
Or five.
He’d slept late and spent the day closeted in his study with his guitar and pen. It had taken Gage to pull him out of his thoughts and force him to bathe and go out this evening. Gage was nothing if not attuned to Beck’s moods.
And his mood had been rather dark following last night’s encounter with Lavinia. Rather, encounters. First there had been the kissing, then there had been her attempt at flirtation. He’d botched both.
Fine, maybe he hadn’t botched the kissing. It had been quite nice. Quite nice? It had been sublime. He’d messed up in that he shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place. Just as he shouldn’t have gone into the library looking for her, because that was precisely what he’d done. Actually, in hindsight, he shouldn’t even have joined the game. Hell, he could do better than that. He shouldn’t have gone to the damn party to begin with.
But he had. And he’d kissed her. Furthermore, it had been divine. He’d drunk himself silly last night in an effort to banish her from his mind. He’d slept fitfully, dreaming of her. Then he’d awakened early and frigged himself, and still she lingered as he fell into an exhausted slumber that lasted until afternoon.
Immersing himself in music and words had helped, though the outpouring of emotion had been dark and dissonant, leaving him feeling unsatisfied and a bit…empty.
He was used to that feeling. It came to him now and again, less often since he’d become the Duke of Seduction. However, since he’d found the letter from Helen a few days ago, he found himself falling back into the old pattern.
A footman brought a glass of whiskey as soon as he sat at a table. Beck thanked him and took a sip of the rich, pale amber liquid. It was heavy and spicy and exactly what he wanted. He needed fortification.
