The Duke I’m Going to Marry (Farthingale Series Book 2) by Meara Platt Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meara Platt
the wayward thought, afraid to allow Ian too close, for he always overwhelmed her senses. He overwhelmed her heart. She couldn’t allow it, for she was about to enter her second London season. She wanted to meet the man she was going to marry and start a family. Ian wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d made no secret of his desire to remain a bachelor.
She cleared her throat. “Did you ever find out who was after you?”
He shrugged and propped his elbow casually on the staircase newel post. “No. It isn’t important.”
She knew him well enough to understand that Ian was never casual. “You’re doing that thing again.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Doing what thing?”
“Carrying around that I-deserve-to-be-miserable chip on your shoulder.”
He ignored the comment, just as she expected he would. But she was a Farthingale, and Farthingales spoke their minds, whether or not anyone wished to hear their pearls of wisdom. “Did you miss me?” he asked instead, obviously wishing to change the topic.
“It so happens, I did. It isn’t every day one finds a handsome duke in one’s bed. Life after that can seem deadly dull.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
She rolled her eyes again. “You know you are. Everyone knows you are.” Ivy released her chin long enough to let out a squeal. Dillie laughed. “See, even my niece thinks so. You’re devastating to all women, even those who can’t walk or talk yet.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Nanny Grenville’s arrival. “There you are, my little princess!” said the amiable older woman. “Do you mind if I take her, Miss Dillie?”
“Not at all.” She gave Ivy a kiss on the cheek—in fact, several kisses on her plump, pillow-soft cheek—and then handed her over. “Glad you’re here to rescue me. I’ve been thoroughly mauled by this ten-month-old, as you can see.”
Ivy’s nanny shook her head and sighed. “You aren’t the only one she’s bested. She may be little, but she’s quick with her fists.” She gave her charge a quick hug. “Aren’t you, my little princess?”
Dillie watched niece and nanny disappear up the stairs, and then turned to Ian. She blushed, realizing he’d continued to study her all the while she’d been watching Ivy. “There’s spittle oozing down your chin,” he said, his voice seductively tender.
She winced. “I know. Incredibly alluring, isn’t it?”
He let out an unguarded laugh. “Absolutely. Thoroughly irresistible. I’m struggling to hold back my desire. Here, let me wipe it off you.” He withdrew a handkerchief from his front pocket, tucked a finger under her chin, and tipped her face upward so that she met his gaze.
Holy crumpets! There was something wonderful in the way he smiled at her, in the way that smile seemed to dance in his eyes. Her cheeks and ears were heating up again. So was the rest of her body. Unbearably hot. Melt-one’s-bones hot.
He gently dabbed her chin, and ever so gently wiped the corners of her lips.
His knuckles grazed her lips.
She eeped. Crumpets! He was having far too much fun drying her off. “My hair’s a mess,” she said, hurriedly drawing away. She removed the last of the hairpins, most of which were dangling amid the long strands, and gave her hair a quick twist in order to fashion a passable bun at the nape of her neck. She stuck the pins back in to hold the style in place and hoped it would last through the afternoon, but she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t done a very good job of it.
Ian was still studying her.
She whirled to face him. “What?”
He acted as though he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Is there a question in that comment?”
“Why are you still looking at me?”
“Should I look away? You aren’t that hideous. Indeed, at times you’re quite nice to look at. Not right now, of course. I think Ivy gave you a shiner. And your earlobe is a bright, apple red.” He touched a finger to her ear, and then trailed it lightly down the
She cleared her throat. “Did you ever find out who was after you?”
He shrugged and propped his elbow casually on the staircase newel post. “No. It isn’t important.”
She knew him well enough to understand that Ian was never casual. “You’re doing that thing again.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Doing what thing?”
“Carrying around that I-deserve-to-be-miserable chip on your shoulder.”
He ignored the comment, just as she expected he would. But she was a Farthingale, and Farthingales spoke their minds, whether or not anyone wished to hear their pearls of wisdom. “Did you miss me?” he asked instead, obviously wishing to change the topic.
“It so happens, I did. It isn’t every day one finds a handsome duke in one’s bed. Life after that can seem deadly dull.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
She rolled her eyes again. “You know you are. Everyone knows you are.” Ivy released her chin long enough to let out a squeal. Dillie laughed. “See, even my niece thinks so. You’re devastating to all women, even those who can’t walk or talk yet.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Nanny Grenville’s arrival. “There you are, my little princess!” said the amiable older woman. “Do you mind if I take her, Miss Dillie?”
“Not at all.” She gave Ivy a kiss on the cheek—in fact, several kisses on her plump, pillow-soft cheek—and then handed her over. “Glad you’re here to rescue me. I’ve been thoroughly mauled by this ten-month-old, as you can see.”
Ivy’s nanny shook her head and sighed. “You aren’t the only one she’s bested. She may be little, but she’s quick with her fists.” She gave her charge a quick hug. “Aren’t you, my little princess?”
Dillie watched niece and nanny disappear up the stairs, and then turned to Ian. She blushed, realizing he’d continued to study her all the while she’d been watching Ivy. “There’s spittle oozing down your chin,” he said, his voice seductively tender.
She winced. “I know. Incredibly alluring, isn’t it?”
He let out an unguarded laugh. “Absolutely. Thoroughly irresistible. I’m struggling to hold back my desire. Here, let me wipe it off you.” He withdrew a handkerchief from his front pocket, tucked a finger under her chin, and tipped her face upward so that she met his gaze.
Holy crumpets! There was something wonderful in the way he smiled at her, in the way that smile seemed to dance in his eyes. Her cheeks and ears were heating up again. So was the rest of her body. Unbearably hot. Melt-one’s-bones hot.
He gently dabbed her chin, and ever so gently wiped the corners of her lips.
His knuckles grazed her lips.
She eeped. Crumpets! He was having far too much fun drying her off. “My hair’s a mess,” she said, hurriedly drawing away. She removed the last of the hairpins, most of which were dangling amid the long strands, and gave her hair a quick twist in order to fashion a passable bun at the nape of her neck. She stuck the pins back in to hold the style in place and hoped it would last through the afternoon, but she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t done a very good job of it.
Ian was still studying her.
She whirled to face him. “What?”
He acted as though he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Is there a question in that comment?”
“Why are you still looking at me?”
“Should I look away? You aren’t that hideous. Indeed, at times you’re quite nice to look at. Not right now, of course. I think Ivy gave you a shiner. And your earlobe is a bright, apple red.” He touched a finger to her ear, and then trailed it lightly down the