The Dangerous Duke by Arabella Sheraton Read Free Book Online Page B

would allow her innocent young daughter near him. He was excluded from fashionable salons.
    Sir Marcus cared not a jot for conventional social gatherings where hawk-like chaperones cast vigilant eyes over the innocent young debutantes. He frequented establishments that catered to his debauched sexual proclivities with no questions asked, providing he could pay for them. He could, and did. He was also a seasoned gambler who had beggared many an eager young stripling in the respectable gentlemen’s clubs. Most nights, he drank himself well into his cups and then staggered back home to be undressed and put to bed by his long-suffering valet.
    In short, Sir Marcus was not considered a very nice man, but then, he had never pretended to be.
    Penelope turned around at last, her face smiling and relaxed and her demeanour composed. His next words would put her back into that foul dark mood.
    “He’ll never marry you m’dear.” Sir Marcus yawned, stretching his legs out in front of him and holding the glass up to the light. He studied the glowing contents and reflected upon the miracle of alcohol.
    “What qualifies you to make such an observation, Marcus?” she asked. Scathing contempt dripped in her voice. “You can hardly say you are part of his circle of friends!”
    “Don’t have to be,” Sir Marcus replied, after a careful sip. “I’m a man, and so’s he. I know how men think. You suppose you have him all sewn up in a bag, don’t you? But you’re mistaken.”
    “Really?” Lady Penelope’s smile was a strained grimace. “Then pray enlighten me as to what you believe Devlin will do.”
    Sir Marcus helped himself to a pinch of snuff and then lay back against the sofa cushions, casting a pensive gaze at the ceiling. “I’ll warrant that he ain’t going to marry you, because if he were he would have done so by now or else made his intentions clear.”
    As she opened her mouth to expostulate in hot denial, he held up a warning hand, raising his eyebrows. “Any man who rusticates in the country, missing the Season, must have a very good reason for doing so. What’s the only thing that can distract a man?”
    He glanced at her stricken face. “’Pon my word, Pen. You look quite pale. I’m not saying these are the facts, just the probabilities.”
    Sir Marcus was nobody’s fool. A loner by nature, he relished his socially peripheral position and spent most of his time observing others. He had an acute and sometimes piercing insight into people’s behaviour. If he of all people had made this observation, then how many others were drawing similar conclusions?
    “Well, Marcus,” Lady Penelope replied with airy nonchalance, strolling to the fireplace and rearranging the flowers on the mantelpiece. “I shall just have to find out exactly what is going on, and you are going to help me.” She swung round and fixed him with a blazing stare. “I want to know who he has met, if he has indeed met anyone. I know you have your revolting creatures who spy for you all over Town. Get them to work on this.”
    * * * *
    Down below, someone rapped at the front door. Lady Penelope’s heart leaped in her breast. She was not home to any callers but Devlin. It had to be him. Her cheeks flushed pink and her body thrilled with a mixture of relief and joy. She turned to Sir Marcus, triumph etched on her face. “Now get out before Devlin arrives. I don’t know why but the sight of you annoys him.”
    Sir Marcus unfolded his long limbs and climbed to his feet. He smiled ruefully to himself, but said nothing more; he merely bowed his adieu.
    Lady Penelope flapped her hands as if shooing him away. “Just go! Quickly! But I expect to hear from you soon.” There was a fleeting note of anxiety in her voice.
    As Devlin entered the room, Lady Penelope turned from the window and stood, beautifully framed against the background of sunlit curtains. Her action was studied and deliberate. She had chosen her pose well. She was, again, a