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

beautiful.
    The soft gray sky left her skin a delicious shade of rosy cream and her red hair was a short riot about her face. The wind was plastering her breeches and shirt to her form and it was all he could do not to grab her, pull her to him, and devour her mouth in a hot kiss.
    Not yet, he reminded himself. Not until he was absolutely certain that she wouldn’t regret their affair. It was damned odd, his conscious suddenly stirring about.
    He shoved his hair out of his eyes and watched her leap up a set of boulders, prop a foot on a rock and gaze out to the wild sea.
    February wasn’t the warmest or cheeriest month in England but she seemed undaunted as if she were a bird set free from its cage, determined to enjoy the liberty it had longed for.
    He’d known many women. Some women found freedom in the cage, creating their own lives and powers within the rules of society.
    The cage was everywhere. Even men lived in a cage of sorts. Anyone who thought differently was blind.
    But he was glad to see Alfred taking wing as best she could. One day she’d see that life had its rules in every corner of the world but he hoped he wasn’t the one to reveal the truth to her.
    He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing.
    He’d wanted to get out of the castle, to keep her to himself. As long as they were isolated, Alfred could be herself. She didn’t have to pretend and he wanted to know more and more about her and she was opening up to him now without the aid of wine.
    He chose a path winding down to the beach below. He loved the cliffs. Smugglers had used them until his grandfather’s day. Oh, there were still smugglers up and down the coast, but they knew they weren’t welcome on Roth land. In fact, he employed his own men to ensure that the Excise men didn’t have to search the cliffs for criminals.
    As a child, he’d love to explore the deep caves.
    It struck him as curious that he, without thought, had brought her to a place he’d enjoyed so much as a child.
    Nicholas shook his head. He was giving weight to something that was nothing.
    She glanced back at him, one hand on her pack. “Are you hungry, Your Grace?”
    That was a devilish, tricky question. Hungry? Hell, yes. For her. He wanted to lay her down on the ground and make a slow, luxurious meal of her. He’d savor every lick, every bite.
    “Let’s wait until we get down to the beach.”
    She nodded and followed him.
    She made her way down the path with the ease of one of the wild ponies that roamed over the Devon moors. He tried to imagine her in a ballroom, her hair curled, a gown keeping her spine rigid, her hands in gloves. . . Her whole personality imprisoned by the rules designed to keep women under society’s thumb.
    No doubt, she’d be beautiful. She might even be the jewel of the ton , but it would be different. She’d never be like this. Totally joyous and uncaring what the world thought of her movements.
    He felt a pang of regret. How many ladies lived the majority of their lives trying to hide their true selves?
    Too damned many.
    A duchess might not have to hide herself. A duchess could lead the ton and censure be damned.
    He frowned. That was a peculiar thought.
    The young woman romping over his cliffs would not make a proper duchess.
    He wasn’t even thinking about it. It was just a trip of the mind. A twist of thoughts.
    They strode out onto the pebbled beach and he picked out a relatively dry spot. They’d already walked a good five miles. She didn’t seem the slightest fatigued.
    He sat, leaning back on his palms. “Alfred, how are you in such fine condition? Ladies don’t usually frolic about with such energy?”
    “Oh. That?” She grinned. “I dance a great deal. It’s the only way to keep up one’s stamina when not in the country.”
    “So you attend balls then?” he asked casually.
    She nodded as she opened her bag. “Certainly.”
    How could he get her to tell him her identity? Surely, it wouldn’t be terribly