Read Online The Duke and the Virgin by Dominique Eastwick - Free Book Online Page B

to inform him she had the perfect date if he was interested. Perfect, well, he would see.
    What lonely widow, bored wife, or social outcast would walk through the door? Regardless, it would be one night in hundreds that wouldn’t have a dull beginning. And that alone improved his outlook.
    Sounds of someone arriving downstairs brought him out of his musings. After placing his book on the small spindle table nearby, he stood and listened as he walked to the far corner of the darkened bedchamber. That would give him the advantage when she came in, allowing him a moment to assess her before alerting her to his presence. If the servants were to be believed, only one would speak to her. She would be brought to just outside the room, asked if she required anything, and then left to enter or to leave on her own.
    The old door creaked open and soft light from the hall filtered in ahead of the shadowed form of a woman. She stepped in and looked around with an assessing air then, appearing convinced of whatever it was she’d been looking for, she closed the door behind her. Still, he waited until she’d turned her back in the act of removing her mantle and let her guard down. Only then did he step from his hiding place.
    “A woman not only on time, but early, is a rare quantity indeed.”
    Startled, she spun toward him, her face hidden behind a lace demi-mask. Her eyes met his, widened, and, as if by habit, she bowed her head, stopping short of a curtsy. “Your grace.”
    Tensing, he took another step closer to his mystery lady. “You know me?”
    “Of course. Few of the ton, if any, would say they didn’t.”
    To believe his date wouldn’t know him had been a fool’s dream. Anyone who could afford to be there wasn’t likely to be anything but haute ton. “Why the mask, my lady?”
    “It would be better, when our paths cross after tonight, that you did not know my true identity.”
    “But you already know who I am.”
    She was part of his class, good breeding flowing through every action, from her speech patterns and well-bred accent, to the way she held herself.
    “Our situations are completely different, as well you know. Fair or not, women are always judged differently than men.”
    “So you are assuming our paths will cross.”
    “I know they will.”
    He searched her face again, trying to see beyond the mask, looking for something—anything—that would help identify her. “Have I made your acquaintance?”
    “We move within some of the same circles in the ton. I would not say we could claim an association, however.”
    “You intrigue me. So we travel within the same class. You have been to my London house?”
    She nodded, although that really didn’t narrow down the list. His mother, renowned for her balls, invited nearly everyone. “Have you been to my family estate for our summer party?
    “I have not had the pleasure, your grace.”
    “So not a member of my family’s inner circle.”
    “Certainly not. In fact, I believe, if someone mentioned my name, neither you nor your family would be able to put a face to it.”
    “Then take off the mask, my lady, as it should matter not if you are a nameless face in the crowd. I promise that, should I see you at a ball, I would do nothing to encourage scandal.”
    “I cannot.” Her uncompromising tone discouraged argument. “If you insist upon seeing my face, then I must leave. “
    For some reason, the idea of her leaving disturbed him. Perhaps because, for the first time in recent memory, he was having a conversation with a woman who didn’t simper or appear to have designs on his fortune. “Nay, I am only curious, is all. Should you wish to remain anonymous, who am I to complain? I am sure I will forever spend the rest of my days however, looking at women and wondering if one is you.” Walking behind her, he allowed his gaze to trail the elegant line of her neck, his dry lips aching to kiss it. He had paid a pretty penny to be there and although she was