Free What the Duke Wants by Amy Quinton

it sounds like this week is going to be amusing, rather than the staid ton event I was expecting. In fact, I think I shall retire to my room to refresh myself posthaste. I wouldn’t want to miss a moment of tonight’s entertainment.”
    “Hold! Might I assume there’s nothing new to report on the other matter?”
    “Oh, you mean work? You actually want to discuss work? No. Nothing. I’ll check on our friendly neighborhood assassin this evening. I plan to steal away after dinner.”
    “Excellent. Keep me posted.”
    And like that, Ambrose was preoccupied again, which was quite unusual to say the least.
    Hmmm…This week might prove to be most interesting indeed .

Chapter 6
    The Drawing Room, Beckett House…
    That evening before dinner…
    “So, Stonebridge, where is the infamous cousin I’ve been dying to meet?” asked Cliff, sotto voce .
    “She’s not here. Believe me, you’ll know she’s arrived when you hear the disturbance,” replied Ambrose, not willing to admit that he, too, had been looking for her dark head from the moment he walked into the drawing room to mingle before dinner. Self-preservation should not be underrated.
    As if summoned by their conversation, Miss Radclyffe appeared in the doorway and it was as if the room had brightened with the addition of a hundred more candles. Ambrose was speechless. The word that came to mind was: lovely. She was just that. Lovely. Her hair was simply arranged in a small bun atop her head with a few wisps pulled down to grace her neck and frame her face. Her dress was unadorned and blue to match her eyes. It was modestly cut and perhaps a little outdated and worn, but it fitted her lithe form to perfection. She was one of those women who would look lovely in rags, and she quite unexpectedly took his breath away.
    Damn, but I really need to get a hold of myself.
    She caught his eye and smiled, and if the earth had opened up and swallowed them whole, he would not have noticed as long as she did not break the connection. He was halfway across the room to her before he realized he had moved. He checked himself before he looked the complete fool, drawing on the self-control he had spent the last seventeen years perfecting.
    So smoothly no one could possibly have noticed with the possible exception of Cliff, he readjusted his stride and approached Lady Beatryce who, fortunately, had entered the room behind Miss Radclyffe. He mentally winced when he realized he hadn’t even noticed her arrival.
    “Lady Beatryce, how beautiful you look this evening. I must say that color of green becomes you immensely.” Perhaps he laid it on a little too strongly in some bizarre attempt to apologize for his cheating mind.
    “Oh, Your Grace, how kind of you to say so,” replied Beatryce with a small smile. She flashed a coquettish look through her lashes, one she probably practiced in front of a mirror on a daily basis. It likely brought lesser men to their knees. Unfortunately, he was unaffected by her wiles.
    “Your Grace,” inserted Lady Beatryce’s mother, “I hope your stay has been comfortable and agreeable, thus far. Truly, it is an honor for you to grace us with your presence. Thank you so very much for attending our small but exclusive gathering.”
    “Indeed, the honor is all mine,” he replied, in no way revealing his inner thoughts.
    There was a slight, almost uncomfortable pause in conversation while he waited for the countess to introduce him to her niece as manners dictated. It took every ounce of his self-control to maintain an unconcerned air and pretend as if every cell in his body were not completely attuned to Grace’s presence nearby.
    “Oh, Your Grace, I almost forgot; pray excuse my lapse in manners. May I present my niece, Miss Grace Radclyffe? Grace, may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Stonebridge?”
    “Miss Radclyffe, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
    He lifted her hand to his lips. If anything, his manners were impeccable.