Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

J enny stood in front of the door, willing herself to knock. She tried convincing herself that her hands were shaking because of the evening chill, but she knew better. The truth was, the prospect of an evening alone with the Duke was wreaking havoc on her nervous system. With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure there were no stragglers on the street who would recognize her, she knocked on the door.

The door opened, and the Duke of Marlow stepped out of the shadows of the entryway. "Miss Bennett," his voice rumbled. "So nice to see you standing outside my door instead of having to force you out from behind my bushes." He dipped his head in acknowledgment.

Jenny blushed. She took a deep breath, refusing to let him get the better of her. "Must we start the night this way?"

The Duke grinned. "Ah, this is all part of the lesson, kitten. Men like to play with their food."

Jenny's eyes widened at his forwardness. "I, um… I honestly don't know how to respond to that."

"And that is where I come in," he said with a devilish wink. He stood to the side and ushered her inside.

"I think we should start in the parlor." He led her down the hallway as he continued. "We can pretend it's the start of a dinner party, people are just coming in, and there are some drinks to lighten the mood and get everyone liquored up for what will most likely be a dull night of monotonous conversations."

Jenny remained quiet at his side, listening to him set the scene. She risked a quick glance at him while he spoke. He seemed comfortable in his own space. The previous times she saw him out in public, he appeared to be closed off. But here, he was relaxed—chatty even.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, I didn't realize you held many dinner parties."

"I don't. I do, however, attend quite a few, unfortunately. I'm usually brooding in a corner, waiting for the right time to make my excuses and leave. Most attendants of dinner parties are insufferable."

Jenny looked at the table of light refreshments. "Yet, here you are, recreating the start of one for our amusement."

The Duke swallowed. "There's a big difference between a normal dinner party and this one."

Jenny cocked her head. "And what is that?" she questioned.

The Duke's eyes darkened as he looked at her. "I like the people who are at this one."

His words caused a river of fire to course through her veins. She couldn't hide her blush if she tried. She felt as if her whole body was engulfed in flames.

She took a few deep breaths to regain her composure.

The Duke sauntered towards her. "First things first, and this might be your most difficult hurdle to overcome."

Jenny eyed him, waiting for him to continue.

He lifted one finger to her chin and tilted her face up towards his. "Your blush."

Jenny gasped, horrified, and tried to pull away. Could there be anything more embarrassing?

His grip on her chin tightened while his other hand grabbed her arm, steadying her. "I mean no offense whatsoever, Miss Bennett. But courting is a game where your secrets will be used against you. Due to your complexion, your secrets are usually written all over your face."

Jenny had never been more embarrassed in her life. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. I never knew that," she drawled. "I guess I should go change my complexion then," she huffed.

The Duke ignored her impudence. "You might not be able to change it, nor should you, but you have more control over it than you think."

Jenny laughed. "Trust me, Your Grace, I have lived with this affliction my entire life. It doesn't take much to make me blush, unfortunately."

David shook his head, releasing her chin but still holding her arm. "I beg to differ."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Please, enlighten me then." She rolled her eyes.

This ought to be good.

"You usually blush when you're embarrassed, yes?"

Jenny lifted a shoulder in agreement.

"What makes you embarrassed?" he questioned. "Things you do not know," he answered his own question matter-of-factly. "Situations you're not used to." He leaned in closer. "People saying or doing things you're not accustomed to."

Their breaths mingled. Jenny could feel the start of something building low in her core.

"So, what are you suggesting?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"We put you in those situations enough times for them to become commonplace for you." The Duke's voice slid over her form like soft silk, and goosebumps erupted all over her body. His eyes trailed over her face. "Like now, your blush isn't as it was before. But then again, you and I have been in this position before, have we not?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Jenny was mesmerized by his words. She searched his eyes for some sort of answer to a question she didn't know how to ask. She nodded, hoping that he would take the next step—whatever that might be. She leaned in. Maybe he'd kiss her if she moved her body just so?

Instead, the Duke stepped back, leaving her unsettled.

"See? I proved my point. The first time we were in that position, your blush was so deep I could see it through the shadows of the library."

Jenny blinked. How was he able to step away when they were mere breaths away from doing something more?

She balled her fists at her sides to remind herself she was here to get tips on how to find a husband. People always called her naive. If she wanted to prove them wrong, she needed to learn how to leave her childhood fantasies behind and learn how to be a woman. And by some strange twist of fate, the Duke of Marlow was her only hope.

Stepping away from her was the hardest thing David had done in recent memory. Damn her luscious lips for looking so plump and damn kissable. He turned towards the drink cart. He needed some distance to regroup and get back on track.

"My thinking is, the more we work on your flirting and being close to a man, the less likely your blush will expose you."

He poured whisky into his tumbler, then turned to find Jenny still standing in the middle of the room, with a peculiar look on her face.

"Everything all right, Miss Bennett?"

She blinked, then shook her head. "Yes. Forgive me. It just amazes me how quickly you can go from one extreme to the other."

David took a sip of whisky. "I'm not sure I understand."

Jenny laughed. "Of course not."

She joined him at the drink cart and nodded towards a tumbler, silently asking for a whisky. With a raised eyebrow, David poured her a healthy two fingers.

Jenny took a sip and sputtered. "Ugh! This is awful. How do you drink this?"

David couldn't help but laugh at her honesty. "It's an acquired taste."

Jenny made a noncommittal noise. "Hmm, just like men. No wonder you drink it."

David chuckled while pouring her some punch his maid had brought in specially for her visit. "Here, drink this."

Jenny accepted the punch and took a sip. Her shoulders dropped in appreciation. "Much better, thank you."

"Of course. Now, tell me, what did you mean by how I go from one extreme to the other?"

Jenny waved him off. "Oh, that. Well, when we met in the library, as you said, we were in a similar situation of closeness, and I thought… well, I thought…"

David put his whisky down and folded his arms across his chest. He knew where she was going with this, but watching her fish for words was entertaining.

"You thought what?"

Jenny closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "I thought you were going to kiss me." She opened her eyes and stared down at her feet. "Then again in your office, then at the party, and now…" She covered her face. "I'm sorry, this is all so embarrassing. I feel I have made a mistake. I should go." She put her glass down and turned.

David grabbed her shoulders, turning her back to face him. "Look at me, Miss Bennett."

Jenny's eyes, however, remained trained on the floor.

"Look at me, Jenny," he demanded.

Her eyes flew to his at the mention of her name.

"This is exactly why you should be here. I mentioned before that courting is a game—a game of risk, a game of chance. In order to win, you need to get close to the enemy."

Jenny cracked a smile. "Enemy? I thought I was looking for a match?"

"Make no mistake, Miss Bennett, most men approach finding a bride like going to war. There will be strategic maneuvers, doing things you don't want to do, but in the end, someone will cave, concessions will be made, and a match will be set."

Jenny fluttered her eyelashes. "How romantic."

David smirked. "You asked for help to find a match, not love."

Jenny nodded her head in agreement. "Touché."

David let her shoulders go and went back to the drink cart, taking another sip of his whisky.

"I do often wonder, though." Her voice was soft, inquisitive. "How easily you go from being so close to kissing someone to walking away. I was led to believe that most men can't stop once they start something."

David knew she was goading him, but he couldn't help feeling a flash of anger at her words. "Where have you heard that? Unless you're telling me you're speaking from experience."

Jenny cocked her head. "I assure you, the only experience I have is with you."

David didn't want to know why that response soothed his ego.

"But women talk." She shrugged. "I assume they're talking about similar predicaments to the one you and I were in."

David's hands tightened around his tumbler. Her na?veté was endearing and a constant reminder that he was dealing with an inexperienced young woman.

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Something like that," he muttered. "But to answer your question, I go from one extreme, as you say, to another because I try not to let anything rile me. Most of the time, situations such as those at a dinner or a ball are not worth the worry."

"Have you always had a cynical outlook on life?"

Jenny's voice was laced with pure curiosity, but her question brought up better-forgotten memories.

David shuddered, trying to steer the conversation away from his past and back to their arrangement. "I've been around enough to know where importance lies and what can, and should, be left alone to sort itself out."

"And courting a woman is something that can sort itself out ?" Jenny's expression was one of mockery and disbelief.

David shrugged. "Most of the time, yes." He finished his drink and poured himself another. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said most men approach courting like going to war, but it's also worth noting that men are simple creatures."

He took a long sip of his whisky before setting down the glass. Then he walked over to the fireplace, placed his elbow on the mantel, and leaned against it, letting his eyes roam over her body.

"When we see something we like, we tend to go after it."

Jenny walked towards the drink cart. "Is it really that simple for you lot?"

He watched her pick up her glass only to set it back down.

She's nervous.

David straightened up. "Mostly. We've resigned ourselves to knowing that a game will be played, but more often than not, we'd rather enjoy an honest conversation with a woman who is confident and knowledgeable."

Jenny snorted. "But not too confident, right?"

"How do you mean?" David started moving towards her.

"At the last ball, I was dancing with Lord Banefield." David couldn't hold in a snort. "And he led me to believe that a woman shouldn't be too forward with her conversations."

"Banefield is a pompous arse who is afraid of his own shadow."

Jenny's throaty laugh had him adjusting his trousers as he stopped in front of her. For a woman who claimed she needed lessons in getting a man's attention, she definitely had a natural talent for getting his.

"Regardless, I was brought up to believe that women are to be demure, quiet, and non-aggressive."

David considered her words. "Simply put, Miss Bennett, you were lied to. Unless you want a weak man who would inevitably bore you, I would consider my lessons as your only guide on the matter."

Jenny chuckled. "So far, all you told me was to control an uncontrollable bodily reaction and be confident." She clapped slowly. "Gentlemen, guard your loins—here I come!"

His heart flipped a her uncontrollable laughter. Her ability to be herself no matter the situation was refreshing.

David shook the undesirable feeling away. "I see your point. Let's get back to flirting."

Jenny squared her shoulders and brought her hands up in front of her as if she just stepped into a boxing ring. She bounced on her toes.

"You look like you're gearing up for a fight, Miss Bennett."

Jenny smirked. "You did say most men approach courting as if they're going off to war."

David acknowledged her quip. "Correct" He reached out and lowered her hands to her sides. "So, first things first, getting a man's attention."

Jenny chewed on her bottom lip. She was hanging on his every word, and it stroked his ego. He enjoyed having her focus solely on him.

"This is where confidence comes into play. When you walk into a room, make sure your eyes are up, looking straight ahead. Walk into a room like you own it, like you belong there."

Jenny rolled her lips between her teeth. "Hmm. What if I don't feel like I do?"

David was surprised by her admission. "What do you mean? I thought this would be the easy part for you."

She blushed slightly as she looked anywhere but at him. "Maybe it's because Thomas and I joined Society later than everyone else, but I sometimes feel like we are forever playing catch up."

He was genuinely confused. "How can that be? You have no problems when you and I are together. You seem quite confident around me."

Jenny laughed him off. "You're you . You make it easy to be myself." She rolled her eyes. "I don't know, maybe it's because I'm not afraid of you."

David leaned in to crowd her space. "I thought I told you that you should be afraid of me?"

Jenny blinked. "No. You said I should stay out of darkened rooms." She looked around the dimly lit room. "Technically, this room isn't darkened, just dim. Should I have asked what constitutes ‘darkened' to you? Perhaps candlelight is too dark?"

"You ramble when you're nervous," David pointed out.

Jenny nodded her head. "It's a talent of mine."

David's lips curled into a slow smile. She was quite the puzzle.

He reached out and tapped the tip of his finger on the end of her nose. "Stay on topic, kitten."

She wrinkled her nose. "You're the one who brought it up," she grumbled.

"Back to confidence. If you can be confident around me of all people, you can be confident around anyone. And if not, fake it. I guarantee you that the majority of the ton is doing the same thing."

He let those words sink in as he walked to the far side of the room.

"Now, when you walk into a room, you want to use your whole body to capture a man's attention. You want your movements to seem light and airy. Walk with purpose, your head held high." He stopped to take in her stance in the firelight. "Lucky for you, you always seem approachable."

He turned and leaned against a table. "Walk towards me."

The color drained from her face. "Now? Me? Walk towards you?"

David just nodded.

Her steps were timid at first, her eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

"Eyes on me, Jenny."

Her eyes flicked up before her head followed. He signaled her to square her shoulders, and she did just that.

"Now, give me a small smile, like a smirk. Like you have a secret no one knows. That a girl. Now, let it widen as you approach so when you stop in front of your target, he can do nothing but stare at your beautiful lips to learn their secrets."

His pants became tight as he watched this glorious creature follow his every direction and approach him with the poise and intention of a clever minx.

As she stood in front of him, her smile was bright and stunning. Her eyes twinkled, and the firelight created a red halo around her that was downright sensual.

David swallowed. "That was perfect."

Jenny huffed out a breath, immediately breaking the spell she cast over him. "Then why does no one approach me?"

She rounded the sofa and plopped down, defeated.

David looked back at her.

And she accuses me of changing moods quickly.

"Must be your conversation," he deadpanned.

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

She was getting riled up, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that watching her face take on the color of contention was exciting.

David raised an eyebrow. "Remember, kitten, men are simple creatures. I think it's safe to say that you speak what's on your mind."

Jenny nodded in concession. "I do."

David walked around the sofa and sat next to her. "Right. There are two things that motivate men—competition and sex. You're motivating men to compete, when you should be motivating them to solicit sex."

The horrified look on her face was entertaining.

"I see I've shocked you with this simple truth."

Her pupils were dilated, her breath was coming out in short bursts, and her cheeks were red. God, she was magnificent when she was worked up.

"Remember, Jenny, men are…"

"Simple creatures," she finished.

David leaned back on the sofa and stretched out his legs. "Correct. You want them to think they are winning. When you speak your mind, eloquently and perfectly self-aware I'm sure"—he raised his hand to stop her from interrupting—"you are essentially challenging them. I'm afraid most men don't like that."

Jenny sighed in defeat. "So where does that leave me? I tried being quiet—it is not my thing."

The image of a not-so-quiet Jenny underneath him flashed through his mind.

Keep it together, man .

David smiled. "No. No need to be mute. But how you talk to a man can be the difference between motivating him to a duel and motivating him to intimacy."

Jenny tilted her head to the side, the light once again highlighting her soft features. She looked ethereal in this light.

David raised his hand to trail his thumb over his bottom lip and watched her eyes track the movement. He rolled his lips between his teeth to stop from smiling. He was doing that too much around her.

"Talk slowly, draw certain words out to keep our attention."

He demonstrated by drawing out the word ‘attention.'

"Change your tone, play with how you say things, keep it interesting. You want them hanging on your every word. Speak in such a way"—he lowered his voice, causing her to lean in—"that they have to lean in to hear you. When you capture their attention, use your body to keep it."

He lifted his fingers to his neck. "You can play with the buttons on your dress. It's an innocent gesture, but it draws the eye."

He pulled at the cravat at his neck, and her eyes followed his fingers.

"Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Her eyes were fixed on his throat.

He had intended to point out that she was no longer sitting there listening, rather she was leaning in, staring at his throat, but the words wouldn't form. Instead, he found himself leaning in as well.

He sat back on the sofa, and her face fell. "Why did you sit back?"

David played dumb. "I proved my point. I had you hook, line and sinker. Hanging on my every word."

"But I thought you were going to kiss me… and once again you toyed with me."

David turned his body to face hers. "I don't take what's not freely given. If you want something, you'll need to ask for it."

She might be outspoken in some areas, but he knew when it came to intimacy, she was not.

"So kiss me then."

David sat up. "What?"

She sat straighter. "So. Kiss. Me. Then. You say men like confidence. Well, here's me being?—"

Her words were swallowed by David's mouth. Her sweet, delicious mouth which had challenged him at every turn was sweeter than he had imagined.

His tongue pushed between her lips and tangled with hers. She moaned into his mouth, and the vibration ran through him and awakened something he thought he had lost long ago.

Alarm bells rang in his head, but for once, he ignored them. He reached up and cupped her chin, tilting her head to allow him to plunge his tongue deeper into her mouth. His body pressed hers into the sofa.

He wanted more of her. He wanted more than her mouth. He wanted her body, her soul. He wanted to consume her.

Her body awakened under his touch. She reached up and grabbed ahold of his shirt before her hands ran through his hair. Her movements were jerky at first, hesitant, but she found her rhythm quickly. David couldn't help but picture her finding her rhythm fully underneath him.

Startled, he pulled away. Both of them were breathing heavily.

"Well, I think you have successfully learned that lesson." He stood up, running a hand through his hair. "I think we should call it an evening."

Her eyes were dark with lust as she nodded absently. "Oh-h, alright. Yes. Right. I, um, I should go. Thank you, Your Grace."

He saw her to the door and helped her into her coat. "I enjoyed our evening together, Jenny."

She slowly blinked up to him, still in a daze. "I as well, Your Grace."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You can call me David, considering our arrangement."

Jenny's mouth formed the shape of an ‘O', but she didn't say anything. With a small pat on her backside, she was off, and David was left marveling how fast of a learner she was.