Read Online How to Capture a Duke (Matchmaking for Wallflowers Book 1) by Bianca Blythe - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t fill him with the pleasure it should have. No, far better to slip out quietly. He wouldn’t have a scandal, and she wouldn’t be harmed.
    She sat across from him, and it felt far too intimate. He’d never eaten with any of his mistresses, and though he’d been placed next to women at London parties and expected to converse with them, he’d always had the advantage of having other people beside him.
    The barmaid set towering tankards of ale down, and foam sloshed on the wooden table. He grinned when she put the food down. Definitely no need to leave yet.
    He eyed his companion. “So what is it like being a highwaywoman?”
    She leaned toward him, and her voice lowered to an almost seductive tone. “Wild.”
    He shivered and then took a long slurp of the ale. “And how did you get into that career?”
    Her red lips extended upward. “Complete chance.”
    “Oh.”
    “It could happen to you.” The woman tossed her hair, and scarlet curls resettled into a new, alluring pattern. The strands were bright sparks of color in the grim tavern, and Percival forced his gaze away.
    No way would he let her see him eyeing them. Any curiosity might be taken for admiration, and he did not admire highwaywomen. His Majesty’s Army would not condone it, even if there might be some merit in the curve of her cheeks.
    He’d been too long without a woman. War would do that to a man, at least one who’d had no desire to fulfill his urges at a brothel, and who was under strict instructions from the dowager to rectify his rakish reputation before he got betrothed.
    Perhaps he was using the dowager as an excuse to avoid making a love-match. Perhaps he was worried his injury would hamper any attempts to find true affection anyway. He shook his head. “Tell me about yourself.”
    “Me?” The Scarlet Demon’s gaze flickered to his torso, and she tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. Her voice seemed more high-pitched than it had before, a breathless tone, no less appealing, that made him scrutinize her.
    A pink tint spread over her cheeks, and she dipped her head down. The gesture only made more of her mane of hair topple forward, and for a strange moment Percival pondered what it would feel like to move his fingers through her thick curls.
    He’d traveled through France, Spain, Russia, and the Hapsburg Empire, but by Zeus, he’d never met any woman like her.
    The Scarlet Demon inhaled, and though that dreadful cloak covered her completely, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way her chest moved, and considered whether underneath all the wool there was a bosom he could grasp. The woman was rounder than he was used to. The chit had apple cheeks he wanted to stroke, and full lips that the warm tavern must have turned red, because they were the most enticing color.
    He tightened his fists together. Clearly he’d simply gone far too long without a woman. That was it.
Naturally.
He concentrated on cutting his food and savoring the rich meat taste.
    “What is this?” She poked the thick tan crust, and dark liquid oozed from it.
    “Steak and ale pie.” He tilted his head. “How have you managed to avoid eating those? The only people I know who haven’t eaten them are members of the
ton
.”
    She shrugged. “We highwaywomen are frightfully refined.”
    “Clearly.” He concentrated on his food. Much less confusing than continuing to make conversation with his captor.
    Before long he stumbled to his feet. A few of the men glanced at his wooden leg, and he stiffened. He’d been accustomed to drawing people’s glances because of his Carmichael features; now it was his tendency to totter and sway that attracted attention. “I’ll pay.”
    She lurched up, and her chair scraped against the wooden floor. “I’ll come with you.”
    Percival nodded; he’d anticipated her action.
    They strode toward the counter, though Percival’s steps were rather less elegant than the highwaywoman’s. Her gaze swept over