When to Dare a Dishonorable Duke (Romancing the Rake 7)

A powerful reason to decline Damian’s offer.

The problem was, she didn’t wish to make another match that didn’t have a physical attraction.

And if Damian were still here, how could she possibly consider another man? He was the only one she’d ever wanted like this. Which made her mind eager to accept his offer even as her fingers itched to run through his hair.

She sighed.

Her thoughts had danced circles like this for much of the night and she was no closer to a decision.

She walked the short distance to the village and made her way into the shop.

A woman was already being served and Cassandra settled into a chair to wait her turn.

“Mrs. Winterset,” the shopkeeper called, giving her a bright smile. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Of course,” she replied. Truthfully, the longer the errand took, the better off she’d be. If she could avoid the house entirely today, she would. “Take your time.”

The other woman pursed her lips. “Miss Hammond is nearly finished,” her voice had taken on a hard edge. “Isn’t that right, Miss Hammond?”

The other woman, a petite and pretty blonde, stood on a pedestal as she was being fitted, her dress stuck with a thousand pins as she looked back at the shopkeeper with a cringe. “I’m sure I am at your discretion.”

The dressmaker tsked. “Allow me to help you out of the dress.”

Cassandra ducked her head, not understanding the tension that had entered the room. But it wasn’t her business, and besides, she had her hands full with her own set of problems involving one very enigmatic duke.

But as the other woman left, the dressmaker gave an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a shame I have to have such harlots as customers.”

“I beg your pardon?” Cassandra asked, her head snapping up.

The dressmaker waved her hand. “That one there is the paramour of a powerful man whose identity I’m not at liberty to share.” Then the other woman leaned closer. “But he sits in a very powerful position in the village.”

Cassandra blinked. She didn’t know the village very well, John having passed in the late fall, she’d only recently come out of mourning. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know him.”

But the dressmaker continued on as though Cassandra hadn’t spoken. “And his poor wife…”

That made her jolt. She’d only just realized that the reason the duke may want her as a mistress was because he was already married. The very idea filled her with shame. Surely, Raithe wouldn’t have invited him if he were married, but then again, she didn’t remember Raithe mentioning Damian at all. Was he even supposed to be here? “That would be very difficult.”

The other woman shook her head. “Of course, it’s more common than you can even imagine, but still. We should have standards. And I for one prefer to support the respectable and ethical members of our society.”

Cassandra swallowed a lump. Which side of that line did she fall on? Was she still the ethical married woman who’d been miserable in her marriage?

Or had she become the fallen woman participating in debaucherous behavior and pleasure of the flesh? “Who was the girl before she was a mistress?”

The other woman’s hand came to her hips. “What does that matter? I was once a woman who could barely care for herself. But I learned a trade rather than compromising my principles.”

Cassandra winced but said nothing. If she accepted the duke’s offer, she’d be one of the women the dressmaker disparaged. She didn’t want to care but the problem was that some part of her agreed with the other woman. She should be pursuing a marriage.

&nbsp

; She’d already allowed the duke too many liberties.

Her stomach twisted. She should say no. But then again, his offer, if she accepted, would keep her beyond comfortable and give her the choice to marry in the future. And, if she were honest, part of her simply wanted to allow him to touch her again.

When had the line of her life become so grey?

* * *

Damian woke in the late morning to find the house mostly empty.