More Than a Duke (Heart of a Duke Book 2) by Christi Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page A

“Katherine did find the heart of a duke by wearing it.”
     
    He expected a pang of envy at mention of Katherine. She’d been the first woman to rebuff his advances and instead repaid his heavy dose of charm with an impressive facer. Somehow, they’d still found friendship. All the while he’d believed she’d tire of the husband who’d not deserved her. In the end, the duke and duchess had found love and she and Harry had never become anything more. He took the locket from Anne’s fingers then unhooked the simple clasp at the back. “I imagine if you’re to land Crawford we should begin by keeping this on,” he said.
     
    “Are you making light of me?” She turned her head in a clear attempt to gauge his reaction.
     
    He grinned. “Just a bit,” he said.
     
    “Tonight, when I see you at Lady Westmoreland’s recital you may evaluate my use of the ribbon.”
     
    He blinked. When he saw her at…? He laughed. “I’ve no intention of attending Lady Westmoreland’s recital for her daughters.” And his lack of interest in attending had little to do with the rather deplorable reputation her daughters had earned as wretched singers and everything to do with it being a respectable venue he’d not be seen at.
     
    “But you’re courting me,” she blurted.
     
    Since he’d agreed to aid Anne, he felt the first stirrings of unease. “It is a pretend courtship,” he said dryly.
     
    “I know that.”  She colored. “I’m merely pointing out that if you’re to make the duke outrageously jealous then you’ll surely have to attend and—”
     
    “No.”
     
    “But—”
     
    “No,” he said this time more firm in his tone. Anne fell silent. He would not feel guilty. He’d already been far more generous with Lady Anne Adamson than the little termagant deserved.
     
    Footsteps shuffled in the hall. The young maid reappeared with a tray of tea and biscuits. Egad, tea and biscuits? Recitals? He tugged at his cravat. What was next? Attending an infernal event at Almack’s? Harry stood quickly and started for the door.
     
    Anne tilted her head at a funny angle. “Where are you going?” she called after him.
     
    “We’ve concluded your lesson for the day,” he said, not breaking his stride.
     
    “When will I—?”
     
    He sidestepped the maid and stormed from the room leaving Anne’s question unfinished.
     
    The last thing he could afford was to attend Lady Westmoreland’s recital. As it was, his “courtship” of Anne would be construed as an attempt on his part to find the next Countess of Stanhope. No, to attend recitals and other like events would send a message to Society that the Earl of Stanhope was in the market for a wife.
     
    Which he unequivocally was not .
     
    At least, not anytime soon.
     
    And most certainly not to a tart-mouthed young lady who approached rogues and demanded lessons on the art of seduction.
     

Chapter 4
     
    Anne touched the edge of the sapphire blue satin ribbon twined through a deliberately placed curl. She peeked down at the fabric. It seemed rather silly. She knew Harry had insisted it be worn so, but she still didn’t quite understand how a strategically and improperly placed frippery would do anything but shock the matrons.
     
    Seated in the last row of the recital hall, she peeked about for her mother. Mother remained in conversation with the hostess, Lady Westmoreland. Anne considered her mother a long while. The tight, white lines of a mouth that no longer smiled, the hard set to her eyes. Mother had given her heart to a wastrel and scoundrel and all she’d received from Father was heartbreak. His betrayal had turned her into a bitter, hardened creature. Anne squared her jaw. The powerful and dignified Duke of Crawford, purported to value respectability and propriety, would never forsake his family and fortune for the pleasure of his lovers. Confidence in that truth had guided Anne in her scheme.
     
    Forcing her attention away from the