Page 25 of For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Chapter 8

It was a miracle that the cold rage swirling inside Felton did not contort his face in a dark mask of fury. His hands fisted at his sides as the surge of anger, like dark water, rushing under a sheet of ice, began to crack the façade. He struggled to regain control against the raging chaos and knew he had to leave before he exploded.

How dare that woman say that about Catherine? My sister is not a strumpet!

“Thank you for the offer, Your Grace,” Felton said, “But I will have to decline. I have a prior engagement that I must attend to.”

He did not give a deuce if the Duchess thought it was rude, but he would prefer she thought it as an insult, more than feel horror when he flipped the table into her face.

A flicker of surprise crossed over Duchess Ayles’ face, but she took his rejection with aplomb. She stood then, “I am sorry to see you go, but I am delighted I have met you, Captain Morgan.”

“As am I,” Arthur stood and bowed. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

Scrambling up, Esther stood, “I’ll walk you out.”

Following Arthur to the door, Esther wondered why his body seemed to be bristling with anger, but his expression was blank. At the door, while he dressed in his coat and gloves, she rested her hand on his arm, and nearly jerked her hand away when he flinched. “Is something amiss, Arthur?”

His lips flattened, then his fierce expression softened. Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it, “No, and I am sorry to have worried you.”

Still not comforted by his words, Esther searched his eye, but instead of seeing openness, it was as if a brick wall had slammed itself under his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Esther pressed.

“Very,” he dropped her hand. “I’ll contact you on the morrow.”

The rumble of his carriage had his head turning and with another look to her, he strode out to the vehicle, entered it, and slammed the door behind him harder than necessary. The utter gall of that woman to imply that Catherine was a loose woman.

His intentions for Esther got upended in a heartbeat—oh, now, instead of just shaming her, he was going to seduce herandruin her. That would teach that despicable family a lesson or two. The anger and pain bottled inside him, chilled his insides until all that was left was determination and a renewed hunger for revenge.

I would rather not have my class mixed with that lot.

“That lot,” he sneered. “Seems to me your lot, Duchess Ayles, is a rapscallion and, a liar and a whoreson.”

He arrived at his home with his heart a block of iron and his conscience silenced by his anger. The succulent aroma of stew beef should have drawn upon his appetite, but his desire for food was non-existent.

Now that the Duchess had given him permission to court Esther, this was going to make it a whirlwind and have her in his bed before Boxing Day. He got to his bedchamber and after ripping his gloves away, began to pace in frustration.

He had to increase the seduction quickly instead of slowly as he had planned. A single kiss would not do; he had to get her used to his touch as well. By the second time they were intimate, he had to get her somewhat naked, and by the third, she would be deflowered.

But his mind kept reeling back to the nasty things Duchess Ayles had said about Catherine.

I was told the young lady was a scarlet woman and a deceiver, loving another man while manipulating my son like a puppet.

If the Duke, that bloody John Harewood had told his mother, that bag of lies, Felton was liable to call the cad out for a dawn appointment. His fury was boiling because he knew Catherine did not deserve such slander. He did not need to get Catherine’s side of the story as though his sister might be a bit flighty and superficial; she had a strong sense of morals and would have never betrayed a man who she loved.

Striding to his writing desk, he pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote Rawden Hind a letter. He asked him to keep close to Catherine, if only for friendship, and to keep her spirits buoyant in Felton’s stead.

With that done, he poured himself a glass of wine and began to consider how he could get a moment of privacy with Esther in the next few days and his eyes landed on the newspaper on his table.

Setting the glass aside, he picked it up and went to the announcement section, and spotted the musicale at Almacks again, only this time, as he read closer, he realized that it was not only a musicale, but amasquerade ball as well and supper after.

From his experiences, disguises had a particular habit of making one lose this sense of identity and decorum. Instead of a lady in a ball, it was Aphrodite in her temple. If he could take Esther, he could get that privacy he needed with her and start her seduction.

Marking the musicale and the prices for the entrance fee, he found the sum and after calling for his footman, sent him off to buy the vouchers and then went to pen a request to Esther about the musicale.

Unable to sit down, he dressed again in his coat, gloves and strode out of the house. He made it to Mayfair Street, and from there, his restless walking took him far out to Ludgate Hill—and came across Rundell, Bridges and Rundell, the jewellers.

On a whim, he stepped in and cast a critical eye over the displays of gold, silver and diamonds. Perhaps he could find a trinket for Esther there, but he did not want it to be too opulent. His recalled the gifts his father would give his Mother and they were always simple but elegant. He hardly believed that Esther would want to walk around with a ring the size of a goose egg.

---