Free The Devil In Disguise by Stefanie Sloane Page A

what
was
he feeling, Lucinda found herself wondering, not for the first time.
    Drat! This was not like her at all. If this were any other man—Lord Cuthbert, for example—she would not be strolling with him. Nor would she have spent one moment wondering whether he’d enjoyed his tea, never mind suffering curiosity as to his thoughts about her.
    This was ludicrous. This was madness.
    “Lady Lucinda,” the duke said for what was clearly the second or perhaps even third time.
    “Hmmm,” Lucinda said belatedly, still struggling to marshal her thoughts.
    “I’ve commented on the weather,” he said. “Twice.”
    Lucinda abruptly stopped and stepped to one side of the path. She beckoned him closer. “Your Grace.”
    “Yes?”
    “I’ve something to ask you.”
    He leaned in a bit, his broad shoulders blocking her. “In relation to the weather?”
    Lucinda huffed out a breath. “No, not exactly. That is to say, not at all.”
    “I see. Well, let me gather my wits first,” he responded, squeezing his eyes shut, visibly bracing himself before opening his eyes. “All right, I believe I am ready.”
    Annoyed, Lucinda frowned at him. “This is a serious matter.”
    “I can see that,” he said. “I apologize. Now, the question,” he finished, the twinkle in his eyes nearly stopping Lucinda from speaking.
    “What are your intentions?” she asked plainly.
    She could see that she’d taken him by surprise, all of the humor disappearing from his face.
    “With regards to?”
    “Me. That is to say,” Lucinda began, somewhat nervously, “us. You and me, and this, this …”
    The duke looked amused. “ ‘Courtship,’ I believe is the word you’re searching for.”
    “Yes, precisely,” she said, somewhat relieved that he appeared to be blunt as well. “I understand that you’ve nothing to lose—”
    “What of King Solomon’s Mine?” he interrupted.
    “Oh, well, of course. But I mean of a more personal nature, such as your reputation or, well, your heart, if I may be so bold,” she answered, vaguely shocked by her honesty. Though at this point, she thought, really—what was the point in speaking in circles when she’d broached such a forbidden topic?
    He didn’t respond, only stared, his eyes deepening in hue as they searched hers.
    “I’ve offended you, haven’t I?” she asked, feeling oddly shy. She looked at the ground, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze as he appeared to consider her question.
    “No, not in the least,” he said at last, his deep voice strangely soft. His hand was warm when he cupped her chin, tipping her face up so that she was looking at him once more. “I prefer honesty, but I’ve found it to be a rare quality in a woman.”
    She exhaled, unaware that she’d been holding her breath, awaiting his reply.
    That his opinion should matter so much made her uncomfortable. It was also unsettling that his disregard for society’s rules governing male behavior seemed to coax her into behaving in ways she could only term improper.
    Before this, only Amelia had been aware of Lucinda’s “occasionally unruly nature”. Even as a child, Lucinda had instinctively hidden that part of herself from the world. And though she enjoyed much of her life as Lady Lucinda Grey, she was always aware that beneath the silks, satins, and jewels she wore, there smoldered a hidden desire to be more than the proper lady the world expected.
    Amelia would turn pale and quite possibly faint if she were privy to the conversation taking place between Lucinda and Iron Will.
    The proper gentlemen of her acquaintance expected her to be above reproach, the perfect lady. What was she to do with a man who expected her to be only herself?
    “Now, to answer your question, my intentions are entirely honorable,” he said, lowering his hand and taking her arm to turn her back onto the path.
    The duke tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, lessening the distance between their bodies as they walked.