Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)

But just as he reached the doors, he glanced over and saw her. Miss Eliza Carrington.

Tall and statuesque, her dark brown hair was piled high atop her head. Her coiffure lacked the ribbon and lace of so many other girls which only added to the appeal of the lush locks. Dark lashes fringed her large, warm eyes, making them extremely mesmerizing.

Her nose was small and straight, set off by high cheekbones and her mouth was so full and lush it made a man ache. He didn’t allow his gaze to sweep down her body. He already knew that her full curves would set him off into a riot.

He’d met Eliza on two separate occasions. One, very proper. His best friend, the Duke of Devonhall’s wedding to Eliza’s sister, Isabella Carrington.

But the other time made him grin. It had been the least proper meeting of a proper girl that he could think of. Which meant it had been exceedingly fun. In addition, Eliza was nothing like the rest of these girls. She had spirit and spunk and… he stopped.

Eliza was a distraction. Nothing more.

Even now two men stood near her, both intent upon her while she hardly looked at either of them. She was a woman made to tease men.

Normally, he’d love to allow her to tease him, but he had a future to prepare for. She didn’t have the connections or funds he required and he needed to leave her be.

Which was why he kept moving and headed out onto the terrace. Eliza Carrington was not the right woman for him. Nor was he the right man for her. She struck him as the sort that would see right through his wicked ways to the black heart he hid underneath.

Eliza watched the Marquess of Milton head out the doors. Cad.

To his friends, he was

just Menace. An apt name.

The man was trouble.

Eliza knew when a man was best left alone. Too handsome by half, as near as she could tell, Menace had never worked an honest day in his life.

She gave an indelicate snort as she watched him walk out the doors.

“Don’t make such noises, dear.” Her Aunt Mildred patted her arm. “It isn’t polite.”

Eliza frowned at the other woman who wasn’t actually her aunt. The truth was, she was an actress that Eliza and her sisters had hired to play the part of their real aunt. The actual Mildred hadn’t left Scotland in twenty-five years, which made impersonating the lairdess exceedingly easy.

The why of the whole situation was a bit more complicated.

It started with her mother’s death and her father’s disappearance.

Her mother’s death hadn’t actually been the complicated part, which had been a standard case of disease of the lung. Funny how the mundane could be so heart-wrenching. But their father, a merchant, had been on a trip to the Orient when she’d passed.

They’d made several attempts to contact him but to no avail. Lucas Carrington had neither returned home nor written to say when he might. It had been almost a year since they’d received any communication from him.

She covered her stomach as nerves raced along her skin. And their uncle, their mother’s sister’s husband had had their father declared dead and seized any assets he could get his claw-like hands on.

Including Eliza and her sisters. Malcolm had tried to marry them off to whatever man would have them. More accurately, he wished to sell Eliza to the highest bidder to collect the purse, but her younger sister Isabella had met and married a duke. The Duke of Devonhall now had all four Carrington sisters under his protection.

Which was a blessing at this exact moment. Because her uncle stood next to her with the noxious Mr. Taber.

“Eliza,” the man hissed as he reached for her arm, gripping her too hard. “I know you remember our friend, Mr. Taber.”

Taber gave her a greasy smile, his eyes wandering all over her. “Miss Carrington.” He stepped closer, the odor of him filling her nostrils and curling her nose. He stank of old cigar and body odor, his hair slicked back.

“Mr. Taber,” she replied coolly. Her uncle had planned to marry her to this man before Devonhall had stepped in.

“I wondered if I might have the pleasure of a dance.” His gaze traveled over her body again, lighting with greedy desire.

She shivered. Then he reached out a hand, his nails overly long in a way that made them resemble talons and touched her bare shoulder. She stepped aside. “Apologies, but my dance card is full.”

Her uncle made a noise of dissent, tightening the hand on her other arm. “Then why are you standing here?”