When Seducing A Duke by Kathryn Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

fantasy. He could imagine now that he had actually made love to Rose, could imagine that the supine arms that had wrapped around him so tightly had truly belonged to the gorgeous creature sitting across from him. He wanted her all the more for it, but without the usual desperation.
    Could she see it? Was that why she’d barely glanced at him since her arrival? If he didn’t know better he’d say she seemed almost embarrassed to look at him. Was it the scar? It had never bothered her before, or had she become so very refined since they last met?
    Absently, Grey’s fingers went to the jagged strip of satiny flesh that ripped down the side of his face. The flesh around it was vaguely numb, like a child’s nose after an afternoon of snowman building. He followed the scar all the way down to its thickened end, remembering all too clearly how the serrated blade had burned and tore as it forged its bloody path.
    “Ruin that pretty face of his,” one of his attackers insisted. But this was as far as they got. Were it not for the interference of Rose’s father, his dear friend Charles, he might not have gotten away as lucky as he had. The man who cut him had obviously enjoyed his work and intended to apply himself to a job well done.
    Camilla, Charles’s pretty widow, sat across from him, the perfect lady on a stiff-backed settee. “Do you know Lady Hilbert, Your Grace?”
    He favored the older woman with a charming smile. It was an expression he rarely wore these days. “My dear friend, how many times must I remind you to call me Grey? Or at the very least Greyden.”
    Her answering smile was as endearing as he’d come to expect from her. “A few more, I’m sure, Greyden.”
    Grey helped himself to a cucumber sandwich and took a large bite. He chewed and swallowed before speaking again: “To answer your question, I’ve known Lady Hilbert most of my life. She was a good friend to my mother.” Then he addressed Rose, “I would view it as a personal favor if you were to accept her invitation.”
    That made her raise her head. Her gaze locked with his—like a doe in the woods. “I wouldn’t dream of refusing.”
    There was a huskiness to her voice that recalled murmured words of passion, so sweet and real that his prick—impudent thing—stirred at the sound.
    But then she went back to her task. The invitation from Lady Hilbert she set to her right. There was a smaller pile to her left, and the larger unopened batch still in front of her. “Those on your left, are those ones you plan to refuse?”
    Her smooth cheeks—normally a dusky ivory—flushed as sweetly as her name. “I think it the wisest course.”
    A perplexed frown tugged at Grey’s brows. “Forgive me, but after such a long absence from society I would think you eager to attend any and all functions.” Especially given how excited she’d been to return to the rat infested sewer that was the London ton.
    She looked at him with something like indignation in her gaze. Was that resentment as well? Ridiculous. After all he’d done for her and her mother, why would she have any reason to think ill of him? He’d never been anything but obliging—and certainly would never dream of telling her how to live her life or which parties to go to. Hell, it wasn’t as though he ever attended any.
    “Because one of these invitations is from Lady Francis. The other from Lady Devane. Were not both of those ladies suspected of having a hand in the attack against you? Or did I misunderstand the discussion you had with my father?”
    “Rose!” Camilla was positively scarlet, obviously embarrassed that Rose was indelicate enough to bring up such a subject. Grey was made more regretful than humiliated by the reminder. In fact, he was oddly touched that she would snub two hostesses because of him.
    “You should never have heard that conversation,” he lamented. “But since you did, I cannot deny the accuracy of it, though I’ve never seen sufficient evidence to