Page 40 of How to Tempt a Duke

“And the other thing...” He paused. “I will need more time to consider.”

Disappointment crushed in on her, but she suppressed the emotion with the stiffness she’d clung to for the better part of her life. This was a reminder not to allow herself to get too close to him, to remain at a distance no matter how he encouraged her to open to him.

“I shall bring one of the journals with me when I come to Lottie’s tomorrow evening,” she said. “But only one until the remaining terms can be met.”

“Understandable.”

He brushed the length of his forefinger over the back of her gloved hand once more. Her skin warmed at the caress.

Distance.

After all, she could not afford to be reckless.

“I do not wish to hurt you, Lady Eleanor.”

He said the words so softly she almost did not hear.

“You must go.” He bowed low. “Enjoy your evening, beautiful Ice Queen.”

“And enjoy yours, jealous pirate.”

She bobbed a quick curtsey to him and strode to the doors. It was a wonder she was able to walk at all with her legs trembling the way they did, with knees that seemed too weak to hold her upright.

But she did make it to the doors, and through the crush of people, until she practically ran into the chest of a man who did not move aside for her to pass. How very rude.

“Excuse me, please.” Eleanor curbed the irritation from her words and looked up. Anything else she might have said died on her tongue.

Hugh looked down at her with a quiet smile on his lips. “Will you dance with me, Eleanor?”

In days past she would have readily accepted, maybe even harbored the hope that he might cast aside Alice, as he had Eleanor. But not now—not tonight. Not after the Duke of Somersville’s searing kiss had relegated the memory of Hugh’s kisses to a place of easy forgetting.

“Do forgive me, Lord Ledsey, but I am on my way to speak with my mother now.” Her regret did not come across as earnest—not even to her.

Hugh’s pale blue eyes regarded her carefully. Compared to the rich depth of the Duke of Somersville’s blue eyes, Hugh’s appeared rather pallid.

“Perhaps later, then.” He bowed to her, his tone cool. “You look beautiful this evening, Lady Eleanor.”

While his words and actions were polite, there was an air about him that set little bumps of unease running down Eleanor’s spine.

“I thank you.” She was suddenly desperate to escape from Hugh, and found herself grateful for Lady Alice having interrupted their courtship.

At last Hugh moved aside and gave Eleanor leave to pass. Her mother was clearly waiting without patience, her face dour.

“You’ve certainly taken your time,” said the Countess of Westix in a flat tone. “Was that Lord Ledsey I saw you talking to?”

Guilt prickled at Eleanor, but then memories of the pleasure of Charles’s kiss wiped away any negative sensations. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss. She could swoon at the very thought of it, at the memory of the protective strength of the Duke’s hands around her, the heat of his mouth on hers, his tongue grazing—

“Did you not hear what I said?” Her mother’s brow rose. “I certainly hope you aren’t imagining more kittens, or some other such nonsense.”

Eleanor pursed her lips, thoroughly chastised despite the humor threatening to bubble up in her throat. The thing about the kittens had been rather amusing.

“Forgive me,” she said. “The Earl of Devonington was not exactly light on his feet. I needed to recover.”

She said it quietly enough, but her mother rebuked Eleanor with a sharp look.

“I have it on good authority that he was very taken with you.” The Countess clapped her fan against the palm of her gloved hand. “You could do far worse than the Earl of Devonington.”

She delivered a stare so pointed, it jabbed through Eleanor’s daydreams.