To Pleasure a Duke (The Husband Hunters Club 3)

And now, suddenly, Eugenie had changed that, challenging him to take risks and make changes, showing him that even the dullest life could be exciting. He couldn’t imagine going back to the way he’d been without her.

He finished the last letter and tossed his pen aside, uncaring when it splattered ink. Done! At last, he was free to set out on his latest adventure.

Today was cool, with the threat of rain, but it could have been blazing sunlight for all he noticed or cared. He galloped all the way to his rendezvous, arrived half an hour early and had to wait, impatiently striding up and down beside the ruins of what had once been a grand manor house. During the Wars of the Roses there had been a battle fought here and unfortunately the building was in the thick of it. Now it was a picturesque ruin.

She was late.

He hated it when people were late for appointments. Then he began to worry she wasn’t coming, the knot in his stomach twisting tighter. Should he leave, teach her a lesson in punctuality? Of course he knew he couldn’t do that. He needed to see her, he wanted to see her . . . and then he heard a horse’s hooves galloping toward him.

She came over the hill, her hair flying, her skirts barely decent about her stockinged legs. She was riding the mare from the horse fair! He laughed aloud as the creature came to an unwilling halt, rolling its eyes and stamping about nervously.

“I thought you’d sold that mare,” he said, as he reached up to take her reins and hold the beast firm.

Eugenie was flushed and breathless, her green eyes bright. “They brought it back,” she said, with a shrug. “No new dress for me.”

His brows rose in inquiry.

“My father promised me a new dress if he sold the mare,” she explained, as she landed on her feet on the ground and shook her skirts back into a more respectable form.

Impulsively he reached out and cupped her cheek. “I will buy you a new dress for every day we are together,” he said hoarsely, “and every night.”

And then he saw the expression in her eyes.

There was a tremble in her belly, deep inside. Eugenie conquered it, raising a hand to brush back her unruly curls. “I would need a very large wardrobe for all those dresses,” she said coolly.

He didn’t smile back. “Should I apologize again?”

To give herself time to think, Eugenie led her mare to the ruined wall.

She’d decided not to come but then she began to think of writing to Averil, telling her she wasn’t going to marry the duke after all, and what Averil would say to the others. They would think she’d made the whole thing up—which of course she had—but that wasn’t the point.

Eugenie had her pride, too much sometimes. In the end she convinced herself she would give Sinclair one last chance to do the decent thing. Or maybe she was just too weak to refuse to see him again. Kiss him again.

She blushed as she began looping the reins through what appeared to be a hole made by a cannon ball. To fill the silence she began to tell him about the mare.

“The silly creature shied at a puddle and frightened her new owner, although thank goodness the girl wasn’t hurt. I did warn them about puddles. Anyway, her grandfather wasn’t best pleased with my father.”

“I don’t suppose he was.”

“If I don’t tie her up she runs away,” she added. “But at least she runs home. It just means I’d have to walk.”

“Rather inconvenient then.”

“Yes. She doesn’t mean any harm; she’s just highly-strung.”

“So I see.”

The subject of the mare exhausted, she was forced to face him. He was gazing at her as if he’d like to eat her up.

“Eugenie, I think you can understand how much you would gain if you allowed me to look after you. Believe me when I tell you that you would want for nothing. I would treat you with the greatest care and consideration. I would protect your reputation. And if our—our association should falter—although I cannot imagine it, but these things must be thought of—then I would see to it that you retained all the benefits of your position until you decided whether you wished to marry or—or take up with another gentleman.”

He was insulting her.

Take up with another gentleman.

She knew he didn’t see it that way, but nevertheless in her heart this felt like a grave insult. “No,” she said, striving not to let her voice to tremble for the sake of her pride.

“No?” He sounded surprised, as if he’d believed his offer was too good to refuse. “Just no? Nothing more? Surely you’d like to consider? Think it over?”