Read Online Waking Up With the Duke by Lorraine Heath - Free Book Online

wise, he’d make excuses rather than an appearance at the ball tonight. No one would question his absence. They would assume he’d found a lovely lady to entertain privately.
    But as Ainsley’s valet settled the dark green swallow-tailed jacket onto his shoulders, he knew he would attend the ball and that he’d ask Jayne to dance.
    Once. He would hold her in his arms and sweep her over the dance floor. Even though doing so seemed cruel because it would remind her of what she’d lost: a husband with whom she could dance.
    But she already had reminders aplenty. What was one more?
    He’d thought he was well aware of what his night of debauchery with Walfort had cost her. He had failed to consider that she continued to pay the price for their poor judgment. He supposed Walfort lived with the reminder every day. It was no doubt the reason his friend asked of him what he had.
    He’d considered it a ludicrous request, was determined not to honor it. And then he’d walked back to the manor with Jayne. She began the journey with such purpose to her stride, but when the manor came into view, she slowed her step as though she dreaded facing what awaited her there. He wasn’t even certain she was aware of the change in her demeanor.
    For the first time he noticed her loneliness, the deep sadness. She’d been young, filled with hope and dreams and a child, when it was all snatched from her.
    What Walfort asked of him suddenly seemed a small price to pay to restore happiness to such a remarkable woman.
    She remained loyal to her husband, retained her feelings for him. She saw to his needs, asked nothing for herself. She did not whine or complain. She accepted what their foolishness had wrought; albeit grudgingly when it came to Ainsley. She poured all her anger and hatred into him rather than into her husband. He knew he was not deserving of all of it but understood that she needed someone to blame, and it was much easier to lay the fault at his feet—because at least he could still stand.
    Now, in the room he’d been assigned, he rubbed the small scar on his chin. He’d not change places with Walfort, not for the world. But he could not deny that he was partly responsible for the debacle that had led to such unhappiness.
    With great difficulty he met his gaze in the mirror. Was he seriously considering fulfilling Walfort’s request? Absolutely not. He’d honor Jayne with a dance. Nothing more than that.
    As he stepped out of the room he was instantly aware of the liveliness of the manor. He could hear riotous laughter and the din of far too much conversation. Even though people spoke quietly, there were so many voices that they rose in a crescendo. In the hallway, a door opened in front of him and a young lady emerged, her chaperone close on her heels.
    The girl’s blue eyes widened. “Your Grace.”
    He bowed slightly. “Lady Louisa. Miss . . .”
    “Winters,” the chaperone said. An appropriate name considering the chill in her voice.
    He extended his arm toward the young lady. “May I have the honor of escorting you downstairs?”
    “You risk her reputation, Your Grace,” Miss Winters told him sharply.
    “Not with you so near,” Ainsley responded.
    “He’s quite right, Miss Winters. I’m perfectly safe.” With a small giggle, the girl placed her hand on his arm. “I’m honored, Your Grace, to have you escort me.”
    She appeared remarkably young. As they strolled down the hallway, he remembered overhearing one of the gents last night comment on her age while she was playing on the pianoforte. She was not yet nineteen.
    He knew he needed to begin seeing about securing a wife and an heir. Of late, his mother had been lamenting his lack of a duchess. “Unconscionable, Ainsley,” she’d said. He’d promised her that next Season he would see to the duty. He’d not given much thought to the fact that the majority of the ladies available for marriage would be little more than children. He could not begin