His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

“You look lovely,” he finally managed to say, wondering if she didn’t think him daft for staring at her for so long.

She returned his gaze with an intensity that held him immobile. There could have been a fire in the room and he wouldn’t have been able to look away from her face.

“Thank you.” Suddenly she smiled again in appreciation of his comment and his blood heated.

Involuntarily his hand began to rise. When he saw it out of the corner of his eye, he snatched it back. Touching her in a ballroom could only bring disaster. What was the matter with him? He felt bewitched in her presence.

Still, she stared at him. He would go mad if she continued to look at him that way. Her cousin made him long for a hot bath and she put him in need of a very cold one.

Victoria continued to smile. Taviston didn’t think her lips had turned down the entire time they had been together, which only made him want to smile.

“Thank you so much for the books. I had completely forgotten about them yesterday.” Now her smile did falter, probably because she was remembering her abrupt departure.

He decided not to bring up that awkward scene. “You are most welcome. I assume since you wanted Volume Two you have already finished Volume One.”

“Yes, earlier in the week. I started Volume Two today.”

He offered his arm. “Well then, would you care to stroll around the room and discuss the evils that befell the empire?” He must be going insane. The only reason he was at this ball was to meet Lady Tessa. He couldn’t do that with Miss Forster beside him.

She looked his arm over briefly, to what purpose he had no idea. Slipping her small hand onto his sleeve, she said, “I would love to.”

They started off around the room and instantly all regret left him. The crush of the crowd forced her to stay close to him. He pulled his arm in tightly and she had no choice but to lean into him. His body thrilled once again. The sober topic of the Roman Empire barely kept his desire leashed. They meandered around the room for almost three-quarters of an hour, so deep in their discussion that no one attempted to interrupt them. Finally, he could no longer tolerate the physical tension. He left her in the care of Lady Tupton, one of her “old” friends and set off in search of a drink.

VICTORIA WAS IMMENSELY grateful Lady Tupton wanted to sit on a settee and watch the dancing. After that turn with the duke, she needed to sit down herself. If only she had a fan.

She was no expert on matters of the flesh, but she thought she had a fairly good idea now of what was meant by desire. From those first deep gazes to the way their bodies had melded together on their stroll, the excitement running through her had only swelled.

Sensing danger, she had hesitated before accepting his offer to promenade. Her fear had been warranted. There was not a doubt in her mind that if they had not been in a ballroom teeming with people, she would have attacked Taviston in a very unladylike manner. And yes, she was going to think of him as Taviston because it was utterly ridiculous to call him anything else when she had this mad, wild urge to press her lips and her body to his. Thank goodness they had been discussing Marcus Aurelius and Diocletian and not Marc Antony and Cleopatra. It had been the only thing keeping her in check.

Well, that and the whole of society present. When Taviston had approached her, she had been vowing to the potted plant that she would not cause an uproar this evening. Thank heaven he hadn’t seemed to notice her conversation with the foliage.

It was apparent to her that she needed to avoid Taviston at all costs for the rest of the evening for she seemingly could not trust herself. Just a few short days ago she had thought him a pompous, boring peer. Now, because he had done a few small favors for her and because his touch did marvelous things to her nerves, she had completely different thoughts about him. Carnal thoughts she knew young ladies such as herself were never supposed to have. Thoughts like, what if she didn’t only kiss his lips, but his jaw and his ears and his chin as well? How would that feel? Or, what would happen if she kissed his bare chest and maybe even his stomach? And, what about that other fascinating part of him she had glimpsed and attempted to draw?

As a servant passed by, she grabbed a glass of champagne from his tray and gulped it down. She most certainly could not let herself get within ten feet of Taviston again tonight. Wherever did an innocent girl come up with these notions?

A conversation with Jane and then a lengthy turn at the card table with Lord Marbury successfully distracted from her lustful thoughts. Marbury was like a grandfather to her. He loved nothing better than card games and he never failed to entice Victoria into a round or five. Tonight, she willingly agreed, as she wanted nothing more than to keep herself occupied and away from the Duke of Taviston.

When she finally emerged from the stuffy card room after getting bested four rounds out of six by Lord Marbury, she was hot and thirsty. She glanced longingly at the terrace doors. Fresh, cool air sounded marvelous right now, but of course she could not go traipsing about the garden without a chaperone.

Well, she should not, but that didn’t mean she could not, or would not.

After grabbing another glass of champagne, she sidled up to the attentive but silent potted plant. She stroked a few leaves, t

ook a few sips of champagne then with a whirl she darted out the terrace door.

A quick glimpse around ensured no one was paying her any attention. She slipped down the nearest stone steps and made her way into the verdant garden of the Burtons.

At first, she strolled among the rosebushes and clematis, stopping every now and then to sip her drink and admire the handiwork of the gardener. She could still hear strains of music and could even see couples dancing through the windowed terrace doors.

Eventually she made her way deeper into the garden, back among the yew trees lining the stone wall that abutted the mews. She neither saw nor heard anyone else, much to her relief. The muted music barely reached her ears now and the house had completely disappeared from her sight. Finding a garden bench, she sat down and slipped off her gloves, using them to fan her face.

Now this was how to enjoy a ball. Alone, outside, breathing the clear night air and avoiding all social interaction.

Who was she fooling? She had spent the better part of her life on her own. Now—this Season—was her chance to find herself a mate, someone to spend the rest of her life with. She wasn’t asking for much in that quarter. All she wanted was a pleasant, intelligent man who treated her with respect. He didn’t have to love her. She knew that would be asking for heaven and earth. He needn’t even possess a title; she wasn’t so particular. It was probably better that he didn’t.

Of course, he was hardly likely to be found wandering around the garden. Perhaps she should return to the ballroom and seek Jane out again. Surely the marchioness could help her find a husband, if Victoria were bold enough to ask for assistance.

As she picked up her empty glass from the bench, she heard the distinctive sound of small branches being crushed by heavy footsteps. She froze with dread and knew in her heart lady luck had deserted her once again.