Page 5 of The Duke of her Dreams

“Have you read the new instalment ofSilent Dreams?” Helen asked excitedly, recalling her previous escapade.

It sent her body on edge all over again, and her breath quickened. Imagining Jack Whitticombe was the easiest thing she had ever done. After the monotonous stay at the house, she craved some excitement, and the book gave her just that.

“I did not have enough money to get it, Helen. I cannot be funneling money for my own pleasures when my family’s state is dire.”

“It is a rather delightful read,” Helen argued. “Better than the last issue at least. Jack is now with another mistress in Atlanta — a sandy-haired one this time.”

“Can we just go to the ball now? It is getting late, and the cold spares no one.”

“Fine,” Helen huffed.

She smoothed the creases on her gown, her heart racing as she recalled every sensation she felt when Jack was in her head. There were no words to describe what she was still feeling. Ecstasy and pleasure collided into a raging passion that swelled in every part of her body. Nothing short of spectacular.

“I am just trying to explain how it went, Kate. I will just loan you mine if you promise to return it.”

Kate sighed and picked a biscuit from the small tray. “It is time to let go of all those fantasies, Helen. Jack is just someone’s thoughts that were penned down.”

“Seems the writer laid with a rake to have that kind of insight. Imagine how wonderful it must have been. I am hoping to meet the writer someday.”

“Whoever the writer might be, she writes under a pen name, disguising herself so that no one discovers her identity. And for good reason,” her best friend explained.

Kate flipped a small pocket watch open. They were already late for the ball, and it was Helen’s fault for talking about Jack Whitticombe. As much as she wanted Helen to get rid of her childish fantasies and take a seat, in reality, something else was bothering Kate.

“We’re late, Helen,” Kate gasped, her face as white as paper. “Let’s hope Her Grace will allow us in. You know she hates tardiness.”

Helen sighed. “As much as I hate to say it, Aunt Gertrude is on great terms with the Duchess. While it will help us with the tardiness, my aunt will keep an eye on me like a hawk. I fear that I might miss my chance at some excitement.”

Kate closed the watch and raised her brows. “Perhaps you can try to hide the disappointment on your face lest your aunt comes for our heads.”

“Considering your family’s state among theton, you should not even be attending the ball. I suppose your father does not even have your dowry,” Aunt Gertrude snipped behind them, her nasal tone ringing through their minds.

Kate averted her eyes from the older woman, her mood soiled from the hurtful words. Helen squeezed her best friend’s gloved hand, hoping she wouldn’t take Aunt Gertrude’s words to heart.

“Kate is an eligible lady, Aunt Gertrude,” Helen defended. “Her father keeps the Williams house afloat. I am sure there is more than enough for a dowry.”

“Let us leave at once. Before all the bachelors are snatched up,” her aunt ordered, slippers clicking on the floor as she left for the carriage.

Helen rolled her eyes dramatically and put on a dark pelisse to keep out the cold. Once they were ready, the two young women headed to the first ball of the Season with high hopes and dreams of engagement.

ChapterThree

“Your Grace, with this attitude, you might remain a bachelor for life,” Perceval said when Theodore picked a glass of wine from an elaborate silver tray.

They had been talking about marriages through the ride from the estate to Clyvedon. While Perceval seemed to have very opposite views of the subject, Theodore was just happy that he came with company.

“I am glad you have that opinion about me. Being in a sanctimonious relationship is not something I would prefer. I believe there are enough mistresses in Wallington to keep me busy,” he replied dismissively and turned to another room on the left.

His mouth fell open when he walked into the room as directed by the footman. Mamas and other married women of thetonchatted away, smoking and gambling while they visited. None of them seemed to notice his presence as he walked into the room. Even Perceval looked entirely astounded.

His grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Wallington sat in the corner with a deck of playing cards, happily chatting to another older woman in a grey evening dress. A cigar puffed rich smoke into the air, filling the room with its spicy scent.

She looked full of health, slouched in the velvet-covered chair. The Dowager was still talking with her guests, not taking notice that Theodore was even in the room. She sipped some of the wine and laughed, pulling an ace from her hand.

“What is this?” Theodore’s voice boomed angrily through the room.

Perceval placed a comforting hand on his back, but Theodore shrugged it off, angry that he had been once again played by his sly grandmother. He had left all the affairs of his estate, coming to London as soon as he could with the fastest carriage in his stables.

All the responsibilities were left to Frederick, the caretaker who would do a very shoddy job of taking care of everything. Theodore was even angrier that he did not think through before throwing caution into the wind and coming down to Clyvedon. His grandmother played him once again like she always did when she wanted something.

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