Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"… t o which she replied that she would have no such intentions, and he would be better off jumping into the canal!"

Everyone at the table burst into laughter as Ian finished retelling one of his and Zachary's travel anecdotes.

Everyone except for Lady Cecilia, who stared daggers at him from across the table.

It had been Lady Lindbury's idea to host a dinner—just a few close friends and family, to celebrate Zachary's return. It seemed Lady Lindbury was quite good friends with Lucinda Banfield, the Dowager Viscountess Sheridan, Miss Banfield's mother, and if the two of them were invited then they could jointly celebrate Nancy's return from Europe alongside Zachary's.

It did not escape Ian's notice that Zachary and Nancy had been seated directly next to each other. While he did not have any proof, he would not have been surprised to find out Cecilia had had a hand in the seating chart. After all, if Nancy and Zachary just so happened to be seated next to each other, it would only be natural for them to engage in conversation, would it not?

Though Miss Banfield had yet to speak much. It was becoming apparent that her already shy demeanor became somehow shyer still when seated next to Zachary. Between her reticence to speak, and Lady Cecilia's commitment to addressing Ian with nothing but short, icy remarks, their end of the table had started off rather quiet, indeed. Ian had done his best to remedy the silence, with great success. Even if Cecilia was determined to dislike him, at least he had had no trouble winning over Lady Sheridan and Lady Lindbury.

It was a lovely evening, Ian had to admit. Since the death of his parents, it had been a long time since he had felt so at home at a family table.

When there was at last a lull in the laughter, Lady Cecilia cleared her throat.

"Goodness, that sounds delightful. I have long wished to visit Venice. The canals, the festivals…it all sounds absolutely wonderful." She turned to face her friend, catching Nancy's eye. "Nancy, didn't you say you and your aunt went for a ride in one of those funny boats?"

"Oh, yes! Gondolas, they call them," Nancy said, nodding. She let out a nervous chuckle. "Though I must admit, I was frightened the entire time that we might tip!"

The rest of the table joined in her laughter at that.

"I have no doubt you have plenty more stories of your own, Your Grace," Cecilia said, swallowing. "Though one wonders if they are of…suitable taste for sharing at the dinner table?"

"Cecilia!" her mother gasped, before turning to the duke. "I apologize, Your Grace."

The duke laughed. "No need," he assured her, before turning his gaze upon Cecilia. She met his gaze evenly, those fiery green eyes piercing and passionate as ever. He loved the fire in her, even as it scorched him. "Rest assured, my lady, on my travels I collected stories aplenty. But I must confess, my adventures pale in comparison to the tales of true exploration with which your friend regales us."

Cecilia gave him a tense smile. She narrowed her eyes. "How very modest of you to acknowledge the wonders of travel, Your Grace," she said, not trying to disguise the sarcasm in her voice. "I am sure your insights into the world are truly enlightening."

"Indeed, my lady, I am but a humble wanderer." He briefly paused, eyes running up and down her face, noting with pleasure the flush that extended down her neck to her chest. The sight stirred a heated desire within him; a longing to trace the line of her throat with his lips, to feel her pulse quicken beneath his touch. "Unlike some, who seem to have mastered the art of guiding others down the path of their own choosing." He finished this last dig with a smirk.

Cecilia's cheeks went red, bosom heaving as she fairly boiled with rage where she sat. He wondered how those flushed cheeks might look if he had her alone, tangled in sheets, his hands in her hair.

Lady Lindbury, looking back and forth, cleared her throat. "You must tell me how you are enjoying the meal, Lady Sheridan—it is a new recipe I had my cook try?—"

"Yes," Cecilia blurted out. "Society is full of those who will attempt to sway the easily led. It is one of the great tragedies of our day that many of the kindest, pure-hearted, well-intentioned individuals are the ones most often taken advantage of by those who cannot fathom the existence of such goodness."

So she was not only attacking his character, but his friendship with her brother! Ian clenched his jaw, imagining the feel of her soft skin under his hands as he held her closer, forcing her to confront the raw tension between them.

"You know, I understand you have not done much travel yourself, Lady Cecilia," he said, "for all your opinions on the travels of others. Why is that?"

Cecilia paused, taken aback by the sudden change of topic. She sat up straighter in her seat, cheeks pink. "Well," she said stiffly. "I have not yet been afforded the opportunity to travel so widely as you, my lord, it is true. But I have read much on the subject of places abroad and found each nation and culture of which I read to be rather fascinating. Indeed, I would very much like to travel someday."

Ian nodded. "I see. So you plan to travel, then. Across Europe?"

"For a start. Greece, Italy…perhaps France…"

"Ah. A similar itinerary to the one that your brother and I followed on our travels. Not to mention your dear friend Miss Banfield, as well," he said, nodding in each of their directions respectively.

"Yes, a very similar itinerary. You see, I take the stories of traveler's as inspiration. And, of course, as cautionary tales." She smiled at him, more sweetly than he knew her capable of being, though there was a strain in the expression that let him know very well her insincerity. "Plenty of those to be seen, both in my readings and in what I have heard from others out about the ton . You know how society likes to talk."

"I do." The duke cleared his throat. "So, from what you have heard and read if you were to go to—say, Paris. Is there anything in particular you would want to see?"

"The Arc de Triomphe, certainly," she said without pause, voice suddenly relaxing and filling with passion. As she continued to speak, the angry flush in her cheeks seemed to turn to one of excitement. Her eyes were still bright, but with stars rather than fire. "The churches. I have a great interest in the architecture." She tilted her head. "Unlike some, who I am sure would be more interested in frequenting the more disreputable establishments."

Of course, she could not resist but slip in that last dig, thought the duke.

And yet he could not help but laugh, entirely unoffended by her comment or her tone, even as the rest of the table watched on looking positively scandalized. He found her defiance intoxicating, imagining the feel of her pressed against him, their heated arguments turning into something far more primal.

"My dear Lady Cecilia," he said, "In my experience traveling, I have often found that the disreputable establishments are where one may find the best, most intriguing stories. Would not you agree, Lindbury?"

Zachary, caught off guard and still lost in conversation with Nancy, turned, surprised. "Yes, yes, I suppose so."

"It is true," Nancy added, after a brief awkward pause, "one can often find adventure in the least expected places."

Cecilia smiled tightly. It seemed she understood that, while she may have found easy victory on the pall-mall court, the battle tonight was not hers to win. "Well," she said. "You have certainly convinced me, my lord. Perhaps you would not mind lending me your travel diaries sometime, so that I may study from someone with true travel experience."

"I appreciate your interest in my perspectives and my travels, my lady," Ian replied. "Thought I am not certain it would be wise or kind of me to oblige this particular request." He leaned in closer, relishing the way her breath caught and her brows lifted slightly in anticipation of what he might say. "You see, I fear my journals are not for the faint of heart."

Cecilia did not respond. Her jaw tightened, but she remained silent.

Lady Lindbury cleared her throat. "Well! Anyone for some dessert?"

As the servants brought out the dessert, a mouth-watering concoction of baked apples and pudding, Cecilia leaned forward to address the duke, her voice pitched so that only the two of them could hear. It was the type of tone Ian was used to hearing from a lover, not a combatant, even as the words that followed assured him she was firmly the latter: "I assure you, Your Grace, my heart is far from faint. You will be sorely disappointed if you are expecting me to back down."

He watched as her chest heaved with the deep breath she took, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and something deeper. This battle of wills, this delicious tension… It was something he knew they both thrived on.

"My dear Lady Cecilia," he said, voice lowered to match hers perfectly. "I would be disappointed if you did. I am certain you will not back down—and neither will I."