Free All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) by Eva Devon

better than sitting on some stupid, silk cushion in some stupid ballroom where she could only make asinine commentary on the weather.
    It took her minutes to grab a loaf of dark bread fresh from the oven, a bit of pie, and four boiled eggs. She shoved them all into a bag and slung it over her shoulder.
    “Alfred?” Mrs. Thackery called.
    She froze, cringing. She wasn’t ready for a discussion of any sort. Her mind was still a muddle and she had to remember that she was, indeed, Alfred, not Allegra now.
    “You’re a fright, my lad,” she said, her gray brows drawn together.
    Allegra coughed. Oh dear. She’d help dress the duke but she
    hadn’t given a thought to herself. And she was rather glad the duke hadn’t pointed it out. The idea of changing her clothes in his presence sent a wave of strange anticipation and dread through her. How was she going to survive it?
    Oh. . . That was right. He’d turned her down.
    Granted, she’d been tipsy, but he hadn’t wanted her in his bed. She wasn’t going to be fool enough to throw herself at him again.
    Mrs. Thackery marched forward and tackled Allegra’s messy hair with her wrinkled hands.
    Mrs. T smoothed it down then tsked. “You must improve your standards, Alfie, if you’re to look after His Grace.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Thackery,” she said with as much of a chastised air as she could manage.
    “Alfie?”
    “Yes, Mrs. Thackery?”
    “Did you sleep well?”
    Allegra gripped her bag, her stomach fluttering with nerves. She’d had to lie a good deal lately. “Yes.”
    “Nothing amiss?”
    “No.”
    Mrs. Thackery nodded. “Good. Good.” She hesitated and pulled on Allegra’s collar, straightening it. “If you have any concerns, you tell me about them. Understood?”
    Allegra nodded and backed up. Mrs. Thackery couldn’t possibly know her secret, could she? No. Mrs. T was just a soft touch who was looking out for a young man in the duke’s demanding company.
    “I must dash, Mrs. T. His Grace is waiting.”
    She gave a cheeky grin, a grin a naughty youth would give, and headed for the gravel drive.
    The brisk air filled her lungs and she let out a delighted sigh. She smiled. What could be better? A day outdoors with a man she found positively thrilling? Nothing, that’s what. She’d been so worried the Duke of Roth would discover her secret. She almost laughed. It was the best thing that could have happened to her. Nothing was going to stop her from enjoying every moment of this new turn of events. Not a bloody thing.

Chapter 8
    N icholas eyed Alfred and, once again, questioned his own sanity. Alfred was a damned delight. Even with her shorn hair and bound breasts, there was something about her that positively radiated. How the hell had she managed to trick his entire staff?
    She was so full of excitement and enthusiasm. She’d been asking him questions about India for the last hour. Intelligent questions.
    He liked her.
    He’d simply thought she’d be a good game when he’d first stumbled upon her in the stables the day before but twenty-four hours later, he was feeling a sort of easy camaraderie that was making him damned uncomfortable.
    Well, it wasn’t all camaraderie.
    As this morning had proved with the breeches debacle, he wanted her. He wanted her more with each passing hour. He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman because he was willing to show restraint in his seduction.
    Usually, he didn’t waste a great deal of time with women. Either they wanted to be bedded or they didn’t. She did, or she had when she was three sheets to the wind. It was he who had held back and who would make absolutely certain she was ready to take a momentous and memorable leap into sin.
    They headed up over the rocky cliff. The sea roared and a salty wind whipped towards them.
    It was damned cold and yet Alfred didn’t seem to mind a bit. In fact, she was grinning as if she’d never been happier in her life.
    Maybe she hadn’t.
    God, she was