Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

J enny walked around the side garden with Nora. It was a beautiful day for a garden party and the perfect day to corner a certain duke to try her hand at discovering his true nature. The impression she got from Sarah and Nora was that he was impenetrable and would only show the world what he wanted to show. Controlled people like that intrigued Jenny.

She was always so eager to get people to understand her that words just flew out of her mouth with little regard for their appropriateness. To find someone who controlled his words and actions so smoothly, yet came across as charming rather than broody, was fascinating. Sarah was right—he was quite the enigma.

Jenny spotted him speaking with Thomas. She couldn't ask for a better opportunity. No one would think anything of her joining a conversation with her brother.

"Who are you looking at?" Nora's question interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, my brother," Jenny lied.

"Right. And the Duke of Marlow, who he happens to be talking to, holds no interest for you."

Jenny chewed on her bottom lip, hoping the blush she felt rising to her cheeks wasn't as noticeable in the sunlight. "If I were to say he doesn't, would you believe me?"

Nora smiled. "I can't blame you for being interested." She leaned in to whisper, "Don't tell my husband, but that man has definitely turned my head."

Jenny covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her laugh. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Still, I would keep your interest just that, a curiosity. I would not want to see you be one of his fallen ladies. The trail of broken hearts he's left is long enough."

Jenny ducked her head—it was only a matter of time before someone pointed out her odds with this man.

"Oh, trust me, I have not set my sights on him."

Regardless of what her body told her, she had to keep reminding herself that it was just an arrangement and nothing more.

"Do you want to go over there?" Nora eyed her.

Jenny considered for a moment. She looked back over at Thomas and the Duke of Marlow. Frances was there as well. Would she see through her as quickly as Nora did?

Curiosity won out over pride. "Let's. You and Sarah have piqued my interest in this man. Tell me, is he truly as bad as everyone makes him out to be?"

Nora led Jenny across the lawn towards the terrace where Thomas and the Duke of Marlow were talking. "I'm not one to say, since I don't know him well. But yes, his reputation does not do him any favors."

Jenny nodded solemnly. She wanted to ask if she was insane for wanting to get to know him better. She feared Nora would shoot her idea down, and she didn't feel like dealing with one more person treating her like a child. Plus, Nora would ask why, and Jenny wasn't ready, nor willing, to divulge their time in the library or her midnight visit.

Her heart began to beat faster the closer they got to the terrace. By the time her foot hit the first step, her heart was thundering in her ears. She could only imagine the red hue that darkened her cheeks.

Bloody fair complexion giving away my secrets.

"Ah, Jenny." Frances reached out to welcome her. "I'm so glad you came today. I was getting tired of listening to these men talk."

Jenny accepted the brief hug her sister-in-law gave her. After she pulled away, she became suddenly aware of her body. Everything she did felt awkward under the Duke's stare.

Why do I feel like I've never stood before?

She shifted from foot to foot, trying to remember how to stand. Her hands felt funny at her sides, but holding them in front of her seemed to take up too much space. She was a fidgeting mess, and she had only been in the Duke's company for less than twenty seconds. How was she supposed to endure this for their arrangement?

"Jenny, we must get you out of the sun." Frances's voice was full of worry. "Look at your face—you look flushed. How long have you and Nora been walking? You're starting to look red."

If Jenny wasn't red before, she was now. Usually, she adored Frances and didn't mind her motherly ways, which have grown exponentially since Simon arrived, but at this moment, she wished Frances would focus her attention on her son and not her.

Jenny risked a glance at the Duke while Nora and Frances found a glass of water and a chair for her to sit in. She could have sworn she saw a flash of concern cross his features, but it was quickly replaced by nonchalance.

She raised her hands to stop Frances from rearranging the entire terrace. "Frances, I'm fine, really. Why don't we go down to the refreshments table? It's in the shade and by the pond. There's always a nice breeze there."

Please, God, please just get me out of here before I make a bigger fool of myself.

Frances and Nora exchanged a worried look before Nora shrugged. "It is nicer there—we wouldn't have to listen to men pretend to fix all the problems they most likely created." She winked.

Frances burst into giggles. "That is true. It's settled. Thomas, your sister, Nora and I are going down to get refreshments. Do try not to start any wars while we're gone. I'm still trying to calm down the carpenter you riled up over our library."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow at his wife and gave her a look that, as Jenny had come to learn, was not meant for polite company to see.

Once again, Jenny found comfort in the cool liquid. It has become her lifeline in events such as these. Purposefully giving her mind and body something to do that wasn't perfecting the perfect curtsy, or remembering which step came next in a dance, or what not to say in polite society was relaxing. All she needed to do was lift the cup, drink, and enjoy the refreshment. Even if it was just watered-down lemonade.

Jenny eyed the punch bowl. More like lemon water than lemonade, really. Still, it helped.

"Well, your color looks better now. Maybe it was not the sun." Frances studied Jenny's face under the shade of the tent, tilting it this way and that to inspect every inch of it.

Jenny did her best not to cringe, but Frances's motherly tone was really starting to grate on her nerves. She knew her sister-in-law meant well, but she couldn't handle it right now.

"I'm fine, really," she said while pulling away from Frannie's grip. "No need to concern yourself. One afternoon in the sun won't kill me."

Nora lifted her hand. "Come, let's sit on that blanket by the water."

Jenny set the cup down on the table and walked over to the pond to sit on the blanket already laid out. She felt a tingle run down her spine as she sat. She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes met the Duke's, who was watching her from his spot on the terrace. She was far enough away that she couldn't hear their conversation but close enough that she knew his eyes were on hers.

Her breath hitched. Why was he looking at her like that? She lifted a hand to her hair. Was something amiss?

Nerves danced in her belly. She shifted her position so she was sitting parallel to the pond, allowing her to see the Duke out of the corner of her eye. He continued to stand there, staring at her, most likely ignoring anything her brother was saying to him.

"So, tell me, how is your Season going?" Frances asked while leaning back on her hands. She looked relaxed, and Jenny welcomed back the easiness between them.

Jenny looked over the pond. "It's going as well as you would think. Nothing has really changed since last week's ball and that fiasco."

"Fiasco?" Frances screwed up her nose in confusion.

"Lord Banefield and his two left feet? Not to mention the inappropriate conversation I apparently tricked him into having, regarding my less desirable traits."

Frances shook her head. "Ah, yes, I remember." She waved her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't worry too much about Lord Banefield. No one likes him anyway."

"Easy for you to say—you're married. And while I question your choice," Jenny said, nudging her, "I must say, I'm jealous you no longer have to go through this. It's intolerable."

Frances chuckled. "I got rather lucky, didn't I?"

She looked up at the terrace to find her husband. Jenny followed her gaze and once again found herself staring into the Duke of Marlow's eyes. Her eyes widened at the intensity in them. He was looking at her as if they were the only two at the party. The small patch of grass between them seemed to shorten as an invisible thread pulled them towards each other.

Jenny shook off the thought and dropped her eyes to her fiddling hands on her lap.

There was nothing between them. He was lonely, looking for companionship. He's just another closed-off man who smiled when he wanted something and used his charm to entice willing partners. Surface-level qualities, much like the rest of the ton.

Still, the nagging thought that she felt something deeper with him was there. She wanted so badly to pull at the thread, to dissect the possibility of something more between them. She wanted so desperately to see what he kept under the outer layer of aloofness and apathy.

She peered back up and saw he was gone. Her heart sank. She turned her body to look behind her—she felt desperate to see him again. The thought alone should have made alarm bells go off in her mind, but instead, she was frantic, trying to locate him.

"Looking for someone, Miss Bennett?"

She turned back and craned her neck. The object of her curiosity stood in front of her. "No, Your Grace. I, um… There was a bee I was trying to avoid."

His smirk was knowing. "How terrifying. You must be careful not to move too suddenly around bees, or you may get stung."

He retreated towards the house, the cup from the refreshments table in his hand.

Jenny swallowed, she couldn't help to think that was more than a warning about bees.

David walked into the house. He needed to put some distance between him and Miss Bennett. She was too young, too naive, and too of everything he should not be around. Once again, he chided himself for making that silly arrangement with her.

Truth be told, he was not sure why he did it in the first place. It was her stubbornness and her naivety that drew him in. He felt this incessant need to protect her even though he hardly knew her.

He stood in the parlor looking out over the grounds. He watched as she and Frances walked back to the terrace just outside. He couldn't help but watch her expressions as she talked with Frances. Her features were so expressive. What must it be like to be so free with your expressions?

Visions of her lying on his bed flashed through his mind, her expressions guiding his hands and his tongue to the right spots.

Voices drifted in from outside, and David righted himself. He should not be thinking these things. He offered her help to find a suitable match, not to bed her. She needed to be with a man who was more suitable for her—someone who was gentle, who would make her laugh.

As if on cue, her throaty laugh drifted in through the open doors. He closed his eyes to let the sound settle over his body. It felt like a warm blanket comforting him.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway, leaning against the frame. He wanted her to see him. He needed to see her reaction to him up close. He needed to know she was affected just as much as he was.

It was as if he called to her. Her head snapped over her shoulder, and she looked directly into his eyes. A slight blush stained her cheeks. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, which had her turning her body away from him to hide her blush.

She moved to the far corner of the terrace, pretending to look out over the rose garden. It was a game of cat and mouse. Except now, he was the cat and she was his prey.

He walked to the railing parallel to her and leaned over it, taking in the same view. He noticed her shoulders stiffen at his movement. He smiled down at his hands that were gripping the railing, happy that she was, in fact, affected by him. Without saying a word, he looked over at her. She was looking out over the garden, but her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

He straightened up and sauntered over to a table behind her where Frances and Thomas now sat. Not bothering to interrupt their conversation, he stood there, pretending to look at his pocket watch, when he felt her shift from her spot. When he looked up, he saw that she turned around and was now facing him, with only the table between them.

She chewed on her bottom lip while her eyes darted around, looking for an escape. She rushed to the door he had just come out of, and bumped into the back of Frances's chair in the process.

"My," Frances said. "What is the hurry? I wonder where she is going. Do you think I should go check on her?"

David couldn't have that. "Pilton, I heard you're having some difficulty with renovations in your home."

Pilton's hand hit the table while Frances sank in her chair, groaning. "I cannot stand that carpenter! He is a pompous arse who knows nothing of how things are made properly." He gave his wife a pointed look.

Frances only rolled her eyes. "We hired him because you said to!"

Pilton reared back in his chair. "Since when do you listen to me?"

Frances's laugh echoed through the terrace.

Satisfied that Frances wouldn't follow Jenny, David tucked his pocket watch back in his jacket and walked into the house.

He stood in the small entryway and listened for any sounds. He heard rustling behind the first door. He opened it and peeked in.

Jenny was standing in front of a window, once again looking out over the garden party. He slipped in through the door, noticing that they were, once again, alone.

She said nothing, but she was positively radiating nerves.

How delicious.

"We're going to have a problem if you keep looking at me like that, kitten." His voice carried across the room, startling her.

Her whole body tensed up at his words. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Your Grace, but I'm currently not looking at you."

She still didn't turn around. She just stood there, staring out the window.

He grinned.

Cheeky, little kitten.

"You know what I mean. You've been throwing bedroom eyes at me the whole party."

She scoffed at his accusation but still did not face him.

"Turn around." Damn, his voice was gruffer than he had expected.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because." Her voice wavered, but her ramrod-straight back told him enough to know that she wasn't going to willingly turn around.

He took a deep breath. "Are you really going to be childish with me?"

She spun around at the accusation.

Interesting.

"I am not childish. I just wish not to look at you," she huffed, picking an imaginary speck of dirt off her sleeve.

"And why is that?" he countered as he leisurely strolled towards her. With every step he took, her breaths became more shallow. "I've been told I'm a handsome man. Do you find me lacking?"

He stopped and widened his stance, holding his arms out for her inspection.

Her eyebrows rose, and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. She dropped her eyes to the floor. "I wish not to talk about your appearance. It is of no matter to me."

He clucked his tongue as he approached her. "I don't believe you."

Stubbornness drove her eyes back up. "I could not care less what you look like. Besides, what I think of you doesn't matter, what with our arrangement," she said with a shake of her head. "We agreed that you help me find a match and I keep you company." She pinned him with a glare. "You could look like a giant wart and it wouldn't affect me one way or another."

Her childish insult had him grinning. "Ah, but don't you see? We've already started your lessons."

Her eyes widened as he stood in front of her and traced one finger down her cheek, to her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her head back to allow him more access. He took her chin into his hand, and her eyes opened.

"You need to learn how to flirt with a man, Miss Bennett," he whispered. He felt her body shake with anticipation at his words. "I'm quite positive that likening a man to a wart is not flirting."

He lifted one dark eyebrow, challenging her to disagree.

Embarrassment seeped through her pores as he chuckled. She pushed away from him.

"Ugh. Why must you always toy with me?" Her hands were fidgeting with the ribbons that lined her dress.

His little kitten was a bundle of nerves.

He stepped back and leaned against the desk to the right of the window. "Because you make it so easy."

"Is this flirting?" She waved a finger between the two of them. "Because if so, then I need to rethink our arrangement."

He tilted his head to the side. "If I were flirting with you, you'd know it."

She rolled her eyes. "How original. How mysterious," she drawled. "Is there a courting guidebook for men in publication? Because I'm pretty sure I've heard other men say this to gullible, naive girls before."

David's eyes darkened as he abruptly stood to his full height. Jenny took a step back at the abrupt shift in his mood and stance.

He stalked back to her until they were standing almost toe-to-toe, causing her to crane her neck to look up into his eyes. The alarm in her eyes was more enticing than he cared to admit.

His hand cupped her cheek, while his other slid down her back to her waist and pulled her in. "There is no guidebook when it comes to you, kitten. There's only one way to learn your truths."

Her breath came out in small puffs. She leaned into his hand and rose on her tiptoes to meet his lips. Her hands timidly slid up his arms to find purchase on his shoulders.

David lowered his lips to hers, but the sound of voices outside the library had both of them jumping out of each other's arms.

Both panting, both wanting, they could only just stare at each other, praying the door didn't open. Whoever was outside would need to be blind not to see what was about to happen in this room.

"Judging by what almost just transpired, I think I more than proved my ability to teach you how to flirt, kitten."

Jenny stood, trying to slow her breathing. She only nodded in agreement.

"So our agreement is still on?"

Again, she only nodded, the pink slowly disappearing from her cheeks. David could admit he missed seeing it.

"Come to my residence tomorrow night, and we'll continue our first lesson."

David turned to leave, but her breathy voice stopped him.

"Continue?"

He turned back to her with a smile. "Of course. You think you succeeded in learning how to adequately flirt because I almost kissed you?" he scoffed.

Jenny blinked at him, completely lost in the moment.

"My sweet kitten. That was all me—you just stood there." He shook his head. "No, you need more lessons in the art of flirting. Trust me, when I'm done with you, it will be you in charge of the conversation, making the man putty in your hands, and it will be him hoping for you to kiss him, not the other way around."

The blush returned to her cheeks, and David inwardly congratulated himself. She was going to be quite the student.