Chapter 3

" We really must stop running into each other like this, my lady," the Duke said, a trace of amusement in it.

Lavinia opened her mouth to demand what he was doing out there, but the words died on her tongue as soon as she remembered who the man was.

Heat rose high on her cheeks as she recalled how she had insulted a Duke of the peerage, a man who could ruin her and her family with a single sharp glance.

Jenny had so helpfully informed her of his identity after her unfortunate encounter with him.

In her defense, he didn't look like any dukes she knew in the ton . The rest were ancient and always had a quizzing glass at hand.

The man before her was not anywhere close to ancient and there was no quizzing glass to be found on his person. He was the very definition of an Adonis, tall and finely built. It was a wonder the ladies hadn't flocked around him. Who wouldn't want to ensnare a young, wealthy duke?

"I apologize, Your Grace," she pulled away from him to curtsy, eager to get as far away from here as possible.

A moment ago, she had wanted to hide out here for the rest of the night, but the man's presence now demanded the opposite. The balcony was far too secluded for a single lady and a gentleman to be out here innocently.

"Ah, I see that you have discovered my secret identity," he sounded annoyed, "I shall now brace myself for the Your Graces."

Her brow hiked up, "if it was truly a secret, then I must say that it is the worst kept secret in history." It immediately struck her that the Duke had been out here before her, "H-how long have you been out here, Your Grace?"

And most importantly, how much of her muttering had he heard?

From the way his eyes lit up with amusement, she assumed that he had heard a lot of it.

"Not long, why do you ask?" he asked with maddening calm that revealed to her that he had heard more than she had intended anyone to hear, least of all him.

Lavinia didn't have a temper, she didn't! In fact, she was a most mild and genteel lady in general. She liked to mouth off to her best friend and her cousin, Noah, but she had far too much home training and self-preservation to know that one simply didn't speak back to a man such as he.

That knowledge did nothing to stop the accusation from flying out of her mouth, "You were spying on me!"

The Duke blinked. "You intruded on my private sanctuary. It may come as a surprise to you, but I did not intentionally come out after you and skulk around to listen to your deepest, darkest secrets."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Simple courtesy would have been making your presence known, instead of- as you say it- skulking around, Your Grace."

A warning voice inside her head was urging her to retreat. This was no way to talk to one of the highest title holders in the country, but her forthrightness had always been one of her biggest flaws.

"I should keep you around, my lady," he mocked. "You are simply divine for my ego. First you call me a bumbling fool and now you call me a skulker. Whatever shall I be accused of next?"

"Are you mocking me?"

"Of course not, my lady," he drew back in feigned shock. "A gentleman would never do such a thing."

"You are no gentleman!" she hissed.

"I take offence at that."

"It was my intention that you do."

He pressed a hand against his chest, "you wound me with your callous words, my lady."

Something about the way he called her his lady brought an odd sensation in her stomach. They were words she had heard so often, but from his mouth, they felt... different.

"I am not your lady!" She said, her voice acidic enough to flay skin, "And you can stop pretending that you're- you're-

"I see that you have finally run out of vocabulary?"

Oh how dare he?

He probably expected to trip over her own feet in her haste to keep herself on his good side. She had always thought men with power were the most horrid of men, and The Duke of Wyld had just proved that theory right.

Despite having a face carved by a master sculptor and a body that made his finely made clothes look even more luxuriant, he was completely foul on the inside.

She stomped her foot. "You are a vile man, duke or not."

He tsked at her, "I would take your words to heart, but I believe they are the result of your overly cinched corset."

Her mouth dropped open in wordless shock. So he had really heard her. He was the most condescending man on the planet.

"It is not polite to say such a thing," she said through clenched teeth. If she were a man, she would have called out the Duke by now.

But alas, she wasn't a man.

Lavinia wondered if his nature was just to be impossibly rude or if it had to do with the fact that he was a tad above societal norms.

"What is polite to say then, my lady?" He leaned closer, voice an intimate purr that made her breathe seize in her chest.

This close, his scent filled her lungs; leather, spice and man. He smelled like the wild and the combination with his looming size was lethal. Her throat felt curiously dry and she swallowed.

"You are impossible and I shall not spend one more second out here with you," she wagged a finger at him, trying to hide how her voice trembled beneath censure.

"Running, my lady?" There was a challenge in his eyes that she tried her best to ignore.

Lavinia wanted to deny the accusation but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. She parted her lips but only a shaky breath escaped.

The Duke's eyes dropped down to her mouth and all of a sudden, there was an unusual tightening at the bottom of her belly.

"No," she finally said.

Those blue eyes narrowed at her and then he took a step back and the moment of madness was broken.

"Run along then."

It took Lavinia a moment to gather her senses back and then remember her previous indignation.

"You are impossible and I shall not spend one more second out here with you," she wagged a finger at him.

"A most excellent idea since after all, contrary to what you think, I was here first and you are intruding on my moment of solitude."

"Ugh," she huffed and flounced off in a mass of ruffles and indignation.

With the way the rest of the girls oohed and aahed over him, one would think that he was the most polite, gentleman in the country. Instead, he was a bully and a bit of a cad.

"Lavvie, where did you run off to?" Noah asked, approaching her from the opposite corner.

She flushed, "I was on the balcony getting some fresh air. It is horribly stuffy in here and I think my lady's maid did up my corset too tight."

His eyes widened and he glanced around to make sure they didn't have anyone listening to them. "You must not say such things in public!" he admonished her.

"It's a good thing I do not want to be in public anymore then," she said then placed the back of her palm against her forehead in a dramatic rendition, "I feel rather faint, Noah. Can we call it a night?"

He hesitated, "we have been here barely an hour."

"Barely an hour!" she squeaked. It felt like they had been there a whole lifetime. She couldn't breathe properly and her feet were starting to hurt. She wanted her bed, to take all the pinching pins out of her hair, and a book.

"Noah, I may pass right out any moment from now," she pleaded. "I'm sure you do not want all of that drama. Can we just leave?"

He sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat, "alright. Let us leave."

As she settled into the carriage, she couldn't help the way her thoughts kept going back to the Duke. She didn't want to spare that man a second thought, so why couldn't she stop thinking about him.

"What do you know about The Duke of Wyld?" she blurted out.

Her cousin faced her, surprised, "not much. His father died about three years ago and he took over as the Duke. I was at Eton with him, but we never really spoke to each other. He had a different set of friends. I remember that they liked to ride horses. The Duke is an excellent rider."

She glared at him, annoyed. She didn't know what she had been expecting. Some raunchy gossip and a big scandal perhaps.

Lavinia didn't need one more reason why the Duke of Wyld was so arrogant. Next, she would probably find out that he was a terrific fencer.

"Why are you suddenly curious about him? Don't tell me that you've joined the gaggle of ladies who swoon over him."

"I most certainly do not swoon," she snapped. "And I was just curious. Jenny pointed him out and it came as a bit of surprise that someone so young would be in that position."

Liar, liar, a voice inside her was taunting.

"I would not want to be him," Noah shuddered. "At a time when his mates were still at school joking around, he was running a household, several estates and businesses. So many lives in his charge."

Lavinia felt a pang of sorrow for him and wondered where it had come from. They weren't friends, she didn't even know him so where was the overwhelming urge to go back and be kinder to him come from.

She pressed her forehead to the cool glass window. She didn't like this unwelcome curiosity about him and she decided that it was best they didn't have any more future meetings.

Twice was more than enough.

Her aunt, the Countess of Hartfield was waiting for her in the sitting room and as soon as she walked in, the woman sat up and beckoned at her.

Felicity was a beautiful woman with dark gold hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were always soft and full of kindness.

"Why are you back early? Tell me everything my dear."

Noah snorted, "there is nothing to tell. She was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, hence, our timely return."

Her aunt's eyes shifted from her to her son. "Did you meet anyone at all? Who did you dance with?" Then her gaze dropped down to her dress, "What happened to your dress?"

"I introduced her to a bunch of my friends," her cousin said.

Lavinia and her aunt made a face at that and he grumbled at their expression. "They are not so bad," and then he walked away.

Lady Hartfield waited for him to walk away before she grinned at Lavinia, "I would not wish any of Noah's friends on you. I hope they are not the only gentlemen you were fortunate enough to meet."

Lavinia laughed, "I would not wish them on anybody."

"Well?" Lady Hartfield urged, "you haven't answered a single one of my questions. Do sit down, dear."

She knew that if she sat down, she might end revealing everything about the entire matter with the Duke of Wyld. "As Noah said, nothing happened. I spilled some lemonade on my dress, but it's not ruined, the stain can be cleaned out. Jenny taught me a trick that-"

"Lavinia, I don't want to hear about how to get stains out of dresses right now. I want to know if anyone caught your eye today at all," her aunt looked so hopeful that she felt ashamed to shatter that hope.

Her stomach roiled and images of the Duke crossed through her mind. Tall, dark, imposing, dashing. Like the protagonist from every book she had ever read.

"There was no one," she said quietly, eyes downcast.

"Oh," the older woman's shoulders dropped, and she shifted his gaze away. "Well, it's just one ball. There will be others with countless gentlemen."

"Yes, of course. There will be others."

But what Lavinia didn't add was that she had no intention of making a match this season, because what she wanted, she wasn't sure it existed outside the pages of her books.

She trudged to her room and found her lady's maid waiting to undress her. She turned her back to the girl, gratefully.

As she slipped into bed that night, she tried to empty her mind of all thought but she knew it was futile. Memories of that aggravating man assaulted her till she forced herself into a fitful sleep to escape him.

But even in her sleep, she couldn't escape him.