Free My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) by Julie Johnstone

overwhelming in size ―quite like the man who owned it.
    “Stop, stop, stop ,” she hissed, mortified that she had not shaken the impression the duke had made on her with nothing more than his looks to recommend him. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He had gone back out into the night after just arriving to get her brother. For that she would be eternally grateful.
    Mayhap the Duke of Aversley was just as honorable as Charles. “Impossible,” she muttered. Charles was the finest man she had ever known, besides her father. Never mind she did not really know any other men. As the carriage drew to a stop in front of the estate, Amelia unfolded her legs and slid on her slippers. With a fluttering heart, she raced out of the sunroom toward the library. She could hide behind the door and still hear what the men were saying as they came in. A little niggle of guilt prickled her, but she pushed it away. Better to eavesdrop and position herself to help Philip if he needed it than to remain ignorant. Philip would never admit the depths of his devastation to her or anyone else, for that matter. Other than his best friend.
    Amelia scurried down the hall on her tiptoes, darting a glance toward the stairs, half fearing and half hoping to see her mother descending the steps. At the sight of the empty staircase, Amelia sighed, regret and relief filling her chest in an odd tangled up mixture. Clearly, mother had not bothered to stay up as Amelia had to see if Philip returned safely. On the bright side, at least Amelia would not be commanded to return to her room without learning of the precarious state of Philip’s heart. The small comfort didn’t quite make up for the fact that Mother had been acting increasingly withdrawn and uncaring.
    Amelia skirted behind the library door just as the front door creaked open and loud jovial singing filled the room. Pressing her nose to the crack between the door and the wall, she stared into the candlelit foyer and could not help but smile. Philip stood―if one could call what he was doing standing―between the duke and his coachman. Her brother looked more like he was hanging like a wet noodle than actually using his legs. His arms were flopped over both men’s shoulders and the men, in turn, each had their hands clasped around Philip’s as if to hold him up.
    Despite Philip’s obviously foxed state, she smiled. She knew her brother. He had a tender heart and felt things deeply. No doubt, Lady Mary’s breaking their engagement had wounded him severely. He’d been in a black mood since it had happened this morning, but now he was singing.
    Singing! The fact registered in her brain. Philip did not sing. He was serious, almost always. She turned her gaze to the duke, who sang rather lustily right along with her brother. Her breath hitched in her throat as she drank in his appearance. Somewhere along the road to retrieve her brother and the road to bring him home, His Grace had lost his coat. And his cravat. She blinked and fanned her hot face, very glad to be in a dark room alone.
    It was not a betrayal of her love for Charles to stare at the duke. She repeated the affirmation in her mind as she gazed at his corded neck muscles and lower still to the top of his chest that was visible without the cravat on, his shirt pulled open at the collar. The man’s skin appeared beautifully flawless. A little sigh escaped her, and in that instant the duke’s gaze seemed to be on her through the crack in the doorway.
    Impossible.
    A smile pulled at his lips even as he continued to sing. Surely, he could not see her. To be safe, she moved back several inches and pressed her body against the wall. She’d seen enough to know that Philip was not too terribly devastated and that was all she needed see for now she supposed. Once the men retired upstairs, she would be free to make her escape and tiptoe up to her own bedchamber, no one the wiser that she’d been here.
    Surely the song could not be much longer