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Forbidden to Love the Duke(24)

By:Jillian Hunter


“I understand,” she said hastily. “And I must admit that I’m disappointed. How is this a moral example for your niece and nephew?” And why had he kissed her and hinted at a romance that might have been when all the time he had been planning an association with another woman?

“You don’t understand. She isn’t my mistress. We are close friends.”

“Who desire to become closer?”

He smiled reluctantly. “Well . . .”

“In the presence of children?”

“The children’s arrival was a complete shock to me,” he said, speaking in such an aggrieved voice that Ivy was tempted to smile.

Poor decadent duke. Imagine having life ruin his naughty scheme. But perhaps she wouldn’t be smiling when the mistress arrived. Protecting her charges from the duke’s behavior was above and beyond the duties Ivy had anticipated.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked suspiciously.

“I wasn’t,” she lied without conviction, looking up at his face.

“Yes, you were. Your lips curled up at the corners. I even detected a little gleam in your eye. That was a smile, albeit a sly one, if ever I’ve seen one.” He lifted his brow, assessing her until she would have confessed to anything to escape his scrutiny. “Please explain what you found so amusing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t remember now.”

He leaned forward and took her chin between his fingers. Had those attractive lines creased his face beneath the mask he wore long ago in London? “Come, come. We share a past. There’s no need for secrecy between us.”

“Your Grace, if you wish to unburden your soul of its secrets, perhaps you should speak privately to the vicar. A carriage is hardly the place for a confessional.”

“But the vicar isn’t as pretty as you.”

“For heaven’s sake.”

“Exactly. He’ll make me repent of my past sins so that I’m worthy of heaven.”

“What is wrong with that?”

“I just told you. I don’t regret the past.”

It wasn’t what they’d done in the past that worried Ivy, either. It was the present she had to contend with.

She wondered if she was about to feel those firm lips against hers again. Against her better judgment, she let her mind wander. Was his clean-shaven cheek cool or warm to the touch? Had he learned to subdue his amorous desires?

“May I ask you something, Lady Ivy?”

She focused her gaze on his cravat. It was infinitely less befuddling than his face. Safer. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“What advice would you give me if you were the vicar?”

Her eyes flew to his. “The first thing I would tell you is to let go of my chin. I assume you have not made a habit of kissing the vicar?”

He smiled. “Did I give you the impression I was about to kiss you?”

Ivy was not about to show the scoundrel that he’d unsettled her. “You asked for advice. If I were a duke of your means, I would find a separate, discreet lodging for my mistress.”

“I might as well admit this, too—I was considering your manor house for such purposes.”

She gasped. So much for remaining composed. The very suggestion. How dare he? “How thoughtful of you. I suppose I should consider it an honor that you wish to gift your paramour with the house that represents more history than either of you could ever appreciate?”

He released her chin and slipped his hand inside his coat. Ivy wondered if this last admission had given him a case of indigestion. “My family’s ancestry also traces back to the mists of time.”

“And it is your mutual love of history that sparked your affair?” she asked innocently.

“If that were true,” he said, smiling as he slid his arm back to his side, “then there is a possibility that you and I could continue where our history began.”

“We couldn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask. I might have been about to propose we collaborate on a literary work regarding the local architecture.”

“Then consult an architect. Or my sister Rosemary. She’s better versed on the history of Fenwick Manor than I am.”

The carriage slowed. The duke’s eyes gleamed. He looked unchastened and full of himself, an attitude that reminded her of her place in their contractual agreement. As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “We are at Ellsworth Park. Once you begin your duties and I resume mine, we shall not be tempted by each other.”

“The thought never entered my mind.”

He grinned.

She bit her lip. The irreverent man lived in a grand house. She would learn the layout down to the last corridor to avoid him as if she were a courier sneaking across enemy lines. He would soon enough have his mistress to tease and kiss and seduce out of her stockings.