Read Online More Than a Duke (Heart of a Duke Book 2) by Christi Caldwell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christi Caldwell
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ton present gossiped and chatted.
Harry tilted back on the legs of his chair and yawned.
“I imagine you may leave now,” Anne murmured.
He glanced at her. “Trying to be rid of me, hellion?” He didn’t know why the thought should chafe.
Her cheeks blazed red in a familiar blush. “No. No, not at all,” she said hurriedly. Too hurriedly. He narrowed his eyes. Which seemed to indicate Lady Anne did care to be rid of him after all.
Hmm, well this was not common for the Lord Stanhope, rogue and charmer of dowagers and debutantes alike. “I think I care to stay the remainder of the performance,” he lied. He didn’t give a fig about the current show. He did, however, give a fig about Anne’s sudden desire to send him on his way like a nursemaid giving her charge a pat on the head and smile, before hurrying them off to bed.
Anne glanced around, and then looked back to him. “I truly appreciate your being here, Harry,” she said, her words so soft they barely reached his ears. “But I’d not impose on you any further than I have. Your presence has been noted. I’m sure there is any number of…” she colored, “places, you’d care to go.”
What did a young, innocent lady like Anne know of the places he frequented? If she knew a hint of what occurred in those very places , she’d have swooned right there. Anne’s supposition would have been true two days ago. Two days ago he’d have been at one of the less reputable gaming hells or in some notorious widow’s arms. Now, for reasons he didn’t understand, nor cared to consider, he wanted to be here.
Just to help the young lady, he assured himself. Why did that feel like a lie?
“Lord Stanhope, how unfair of you. Occupying the attention of the most lovely lady present this evening.”
Harry stiffened. He stood and greeted the pleasantly handsome and unfailingly polite Duke of Crawford.
Chapter 5
The only silence amidst Lady Westmoreland’s entire hall happened to be with the five people seated in the very last row.
Mother broke the awkward pall. She rose in a flutter of silvery-grey skirts. “Your Grace,” she tittered behind her hand. “What an absolute pleasure.”
Anne winced and reluctantly came to her feet wishing she could dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment at Mother’s clear grasping.
Polite greetings were exchanged between Katherine’s husband, the Duke of Bainbridge and the young Duke of Crawford.
She waited for a hint of jubilance at the duke’s seeming interest, yet as she studied him conversing with her brother-in-law, she felt only a bored disinterest in what matters the two young dukes cared to discuss.
The heart of a duke. This is what you want . You’ve dreamed of the title of duchess and with it the security and stability represented in that lofty ascension of rank.
With pleasantries aside, the Duke of Crawford turned the full force of his ducal regard on Anne. She shifted at his intent scrutiny, while fingering the ribbon woven through her hair. The duke’s gaze drifted lower and her cheeks burned.
She released the satin striped fabric. “Your Grace,” she murmured and sank into a deep, respectful curtsy.
The duke claimed her hand. “Lady Anne,” he said quietly. His lips hovered above the inner portion of her wrist and he raised it to his mouth.
Disappointment surged through her at her body’s total lack of awareness of that slight caress. He released her hand and she fisted the fabric of her skirts. From the corner of her eye she detected Harry’s hot, furious stare. What did he have to be angry with? He was the cad who’d been eying her sister in the midst of the recital, which only mattered because he was supposed to be feigning interest in Anne.
The Duke of Crawford looked between them.
Liar .
He settled his autocratic gaze on Harry. “Not your usual entertainments for the evening, Stanhope, eh? I
Harry tilted back on the legs of his chair and yawned.
“I imagine you may leave now,” Anne murmured.
He glanced at her. “Trying to be rid of me, hellion?” He didn’t know why the thought should chafe.
Her cheeks blazed red in a familiar blush. “No. No, not at all,” she said hurriedly. Too hurriedly. He narrowed his eyes. Which seemed to indicate Lady Anne did care to be rid of him after all.
Hmm, well this was not common for the Lord Stanhope, rogue and charmer of dowagers and debutantes alike. “I think I care to stay the remainder of the performance,” he lied. He didn’t give a fig about the current show. He did, however, give a fig about Anne’s sudden desire to send him on his way like a nursemaid giving her charge a pat on the head and smile, before hurrying them off to bed.
Anne glanced around, and then looked back to him. “I truly appreciate your being here, Harry,” she said, her words so soft they barely reached his ears. “But I’d not impose on you any further than I have. Your presence has been noted. I’m sure there is any number of…” she colored, “places, you’d care to go.”
What did a young, innocent lady like Anne know of the places he frequented? If she knew a hint of what occurred in those very places , she’d have swooned right there. Anne’s supposition would have been true two days ago. Two days ago he’d have been at one of the less reputable gaming hells or in some notorious widow’s arms. Now, for reasons he didn’t understand, nor cared to consider, he wanted to be here.
Just to help the young lady, he assured himself. Why did that feel like a lie?
“Lord Stanhope, how unfair of you. Occupying the attention of the most lovely lady present this evening.”
Harry stiffened. He stood and greeted the pleasantly handsome and unfailingly polite Duke of Crawford.
Chapter 5
The only silence amidst Lady Westmoreland’s entire hall happened to be with the five people seated in the very last row.
Mother broke the awkward pall. She rose in a flutter of silvery-grey skirts. “Your Grace,” she tittered behind her hand. “What an absolute pleasure.”
Anne winced and reluctantly came to her feet wishing she could dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment at Mother’s clear grasping.
Polite greetings were exchanged between Katherine’s husband, the Duke of Bainbridge and the young Duke of Crawford.
She waited for a hint of jubilance at the duke’s seeming interest, yet as she studied him conversing with her brother-in-law, she felt only a bored disinterest in what matters the two young dukes cared to discuss.
The heart of a duke. This is what you want . You’ve dreamed of the title of duchess and with it the security and stability represented in that lofty ascension of rank.
With pleasantries aside, the Duke of Crawford turned the full force of his ducal regard on Anne. She shifted at his intent scrutiny, while fingering the ribbon woven through her hair. The duke’s gaze drifted lower and her cheeks burned.
She released the satin striped fabric. “Your Grace,” she murmured and sank into a deep, respectful curtsy.
The duke claimed her hand. “Lady Anne,” he said quietly. His lips hovered above the inner portion of her wrist and he raised it to his mouth.
Disappointment surged through her at her body’s total lack of awareness of that slight caress. He released her hand and she fisted the fabric of her skirts. From the corner of her eye she detected Harry’s hot, furious stare. What did he have to be angry with? He was the cad who’d been eying her sister in the midst of the recital, which only mattered because he was supposed to be feigning interest in Anne.
The Duke of Crawford looked between them.
Liar .
He settled his autocratic gaze on Harry. “Not your usual entertainments for the evening, Stanhope, eh? I
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