Chapter 3

CHAPTER3

Amy was cursing her ill fortune the moment the Duke of Leonbridge asked her for a dance. Did he not know her reputation?

Or was he trying to make fun of her by leading her out onto the dance floor?

But how could she refuse him? To do so would be to renege on the promise she made to her father earlier in the carriage, and if she did that, she might as well kiss her freedom goodbye for another year or so. The Marquess of Irington was quite determined to see his only child married.

Was she going to lose out to her father’s sheer determination? Absolutely not!

"You looks absolutely radiant tonight, my lady," the Duke beamed at her. To his credit, he did manage to look at her as if she was not some creature that had climbed out of the bog.

"Why, thank you, Your Grace," she responded simply. "I think I look rather splendid myself. Was it perhaps these outdated pins I am wearing that ensnared your gaze?"

Her words were quite sharp, but she wore a brilliant smile—just in case her father was looking. Under the stipulations of their agreement, she might not have been allowed to refuse him outright, but she could still subtly dissuade him from pursuing her further.

If such a thing was indeed possible.

"You far outshine those jewels, Lady Amy," he smiled at her. "How could they diminish you?"

Amy looked up at the Duke as if he had lost his mind. He had to have gone insane—it was the only viable explanation! Not only did he miss the dripping sarcasm in her retort, but he even went so far as to heap another compliment on her miserable head!

"Your Grace is possessed of a silver tongue," she remarked. "Is this how you charm the ladies into your bed?"

Oh, that was rather vulgar of her! What gently bred young lady would speak of such matters? No doubt, he would be appalled—no, horrified by her words! He would—

"Of course not," he returned smoothly. "I would not waste my breath pandering to others. Only to you."

That was true to a certain extent, of course. The status of the Duke of Leonbridge was well above most of the ton. He would have no need to utter such niceties for women to flock over to him. The mere prospect of becoming his duchess was a good enough motivation.

The fact that he was also devastatingly, wickedly handsome already had young widows beating down his bedroom door.

Not that Amy had any desire to join their ranks.

"Then you must be ill," she muttered. "Why else should you torment me so?"

"I am of quite good health, I am told," he replied with some amusement. "Perhaps a demonstration would suit you?"

Amy screamed inwardly. What demonstration was he going on about?

"Did someone put you up to it, then?"

Yes, that must be it. His Grace must have lost some bet with his friends, and now, he had to go through the immense torture of dancing with someone like her.

She narrowed her eyes up at him but continued to smile brilliantly as if she was surprisingly enjoying dancing with him—never mind that she had never held the slightest fondness for dancing before. She would not want her father to catch a whiff of what she was doing, or she would forfeit her freedom!

As she continued to look up to the Duke with a sickeningly sweet smile, she felt her neck begin to ache. Why did he have to be so tall?

However, in spite of her best intentions to scare off His Grace with her words, he still smiled down at her as if she was the most fascinating creature he had ever met. His blue eyes shone with the light of the chandelier above them, and for a moment, it felt as if they were sucking her in.

"Lady Amy," he said softly. "Is it so unfathomable that I find myself drawn to you?"

Dear God, no!Amy wanted to screech in horror.

How could he say such a thing? How could he utter such a blatant lie with such a charming smile?

She truly ought to call him out on that, to fling it back in his face as she always did. Such saccharine falsehoods had always made her skin crawl, but his words were like a sweet, seductive spell on her.

Fortunately, the music ended, and as she bowed to the Duke, she found herself still mildly stunned at the effect he had on her.

She shook her head inwardly at that.

Was the Duke of Leonbridge truly as charming as they all claimed him to be?

She was supposed to make him regret asking her to dance—why did she want him to ask her all over again?

As he returned her back to Esther’s side, bowing so gallantly before the both of them before slinking off to his friends, she placed her hand over her chest and found her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

This simply would not do!Amy thought to herself. I must find some other way to ward him off without refusing him outright!

In the meantime, she had to find some way to calm her heart down…

* * *

How could a woman speak in such a manner?

Lady Amy was not only quite vicious with her words, but she also dared to talk about something unmarried ladies never did.

Initially, he was quite appalled at the way their conversation was going. He had meant to charm her by praising her physical attributes, but he found himself rebuffed over and over again.

Did women not like it when he called them beautiful and all sorts of things pertaining to the same thing?

Evan had thought that if he could somehow appeal to her vanity, she might consider him more favorably. Unfortunately, Lady Amy was of sharper wit than any other woman he had ever encountered, and she had no qualms in wielding her even sharper tongue to draw first blood.

Did that mean he was going to give up? Of course not!

On the contrary, he found her blunt nature quite refreshing.

He was so used to sycophants trying to get in his good graces, but Lady Amy was nothing like them at all.

And when she asked him if somebody had put him up to the task of asking her to dance, he had floundered around for a way to successfully parry her words when she had come so close to the truth.

Somebody had indeed put him up to it.

For two whole weeks at that.

"So... how did it go?" Benedict asked him with a curious smile. "Frankly, I am surprised that the young lady did not refuse you outright as I heard she had done in the past."

Charles nodded at this. "Quite. I’ve heard that it is in her nature to cut a man down before he had a chance to lead her to the dance floor."

With her nature, it is more likely that she would lead a man to the dance floor for a verbal castration.

"Well, she dared not cut me," Evan smirked. "In fact, you would notice that she quite enjoyed talking to me."

If you could call what she did talking...She was hostile the moment she opened her mouth!

And yet, what a lovely, delectable mouth she possessed—with vivid lips made for hot kisses…

Benedict looked rather dubious, however.

"But remember—you have to be with her for two weeks. And you are not supposed to be seducing her!"

"I do not think that woman can be seduced," Charles muttered. "If she is still a woman at that."

Somehow, Evan managed to feel affronted at his words on behalf of Lady Amy. She might not be an excellent conversationalist, but she was definitely a woman... with rather desirable attributes.

And yet, he also felt a strange relief that none of his companions had noticed this.

"What the hell are you smiling about, Evan? Our agreement does not end tonight. You still have two more weeks to prove yourself!"

"How could I forget?" the Duke retorted, taking another glass of wine from a passing servant. He would need much more alcohol to fortify himself against Lady Amy’s barbs as loath as he was to admit that sorry fact.

She might put up quite the show of enjoying my company, but she was most definitely pushing me away!

But not if Evan had anything to say about it. He was going to prove his best friend wrong, dammit!

Benedict, however, did not look quite convinced of his abilities and looked at him with some worry. "You are not about to drink yourself into oblivion, are you? The ladies do not appreciate the fumes of spirits—"

"Maybe he needs all the help he can get to face Lady Amy."

"Lock, it would be in your best interests to shut the hell up," Evan warned the Marquess.

Charles looked quite affronted, his eyes turning icy for a split second, but then he recovered quickly, almost as if that flash of anger had never been there at all.

With a dramatic sigh and a mocking smile, he straightened his jacket. "As pleasurable as it is to remain in your company, the hour is late and I have a prior engagement," he countered smoothly. He nodded towards Benedict and Evan, before stalking out of the ballroom.

"How characteristic of him to walk away just like that," Benedict scoffed. "

"Why are you still surprised? Charles always does whatever pleases him."

The viscount arched his brow at that. "I could say the same for you, my friend." He took a sip of wine and looked across the ballroom to where Lady Amy was still talking to Lady Esther. "In any case, I do not think you made quite an impression on the lady."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, I do not see her casting longing glances our way."

Evan fought the urge to smile at that. Judging from the barbs the lady had thrown his way, Lady Amy Clarke would rather gouge those expressive eyes of hers before she would cast them longingly in anybody’s way.

Still, he felt a distinctly unpleasant emotion at the thought of the lady in question casting her glance on another gentleman.

"It would seem that you have lost your touch," Benedict chuckled.

Lost my touch?Evan bristled at the thought.

"Why don’t you make yourself useful and hold this for a moment?" he snapped.

Benedict looked in confusion at the wineglass that had been shoved into his hands. Before he could say anything, Evan was already stalking away.

"Whatever was that for?" he called after his somewhat...irrational friend.

"Perhaps, the Lady Amy Clarke needs a little more...persuasion."

Oh, he knew that a woman like Lady Amy Clarke would need more than just a little persuasion. From their first dance, he could gather that she was nothing like all the other ladies of the ton in the sense that she didn’t fall at his feet, eager for the chance to become a duchess. Nor did she resort to servile flattery or the many tricks all the ladies in Society employed to catch themselves in the husband.

In fact, it would seem that Lady Amy herself was bent on not attracting a suitable match for herself. And yet, she had not refused him outright.

It was most intriguing, indeed, and His Grace, the Duke of Leonbridge had always held a penchant for intriguing things.