Free Seducing the Duchess by Ashley March

with his lips and tongue.
    She must keep her wits about her. After all, he was the man who had taught her to kiss. He was the one who had taught her the skills of seduction, how one’s emotions could be completely distant from the acts of the body.
    “Oh, do stop glowering,” she called down to him. “I would have run away with someone else as well, if I’d had any idea how horrible you are.”
    “Charlotte!” Joanna’s hand touched her arm.
    Philip’s eyes burned into hers before sweeping toward Joanna, then back to Charlotte. It must have been her imagination, or a trick of the sunlight. Surely she hadn’t glimpsed a gleam of humor in their depths.
    His gaze swung once more to Joanna. He made a gallant bow, the usual tension in his movements noticeably absent. “Lady Grey. I never did properly thank you for abandoning me four days before our wedding. Please allow me to do so now, for if you hadn’t disappeared, I might never have known the joy of being married to my sweet, darling wife, my lovely Charlotte.”
    Joanna inclined her head. “You are most welcome, Your Grace.” To Charlotte, she murmured out of the corner of her mouth, “I’d heard rumors you two hated one another.”
    “Oh, we do. He just hides it better than I do.”
    And she would do well to remember that his every action, his every word, was just another part of the game they played. Philip sought to control her by any means possible, whether through force, intimidation, or the sweet seduction of a stolen kiss. Or by attempting to gain her favor, as evidenced by the gift of the harp.
    All she had to do was stay one step ahead of him until he tired of this farce and returned to London.
    The best tool she could use to accomplish both goals of keeping distance between them and angering him stood right before her. All six feet of charm and propriety and broken promises.
    “Joanna.” Charlotte smiled. “You simply must come to tea.”
    “Now? Isn’t it a bit early?”
    “Now is a perfect time. Say yes.”
    Joanna glanced dubiously at Philip, who had stepped closer in an attempt to overhear them. “I’m not sure—”
    Charlotte arched a brow. “Would you rather speak of Ethan? I heard that he—”
    Joanna scowled. “Fine. Yes. I would love to have tea with you.”
    Charlotte clapped her hands and looked at Philip. “Oh, darling,” she called. “Is it not wonderful? Dearest Joanna has agreed to be our guest for tea.”
    “Indeed, that is wonderful news.”
    His jaw clenched. Even from fifteen feet away, Charlotte could see it. She nearly clapped her hands again.
     
    Charlotte wanted to strangle Philip.
    If she hadn’t believed he would laugh in her face at her attempt to do so, she would have.
    She gritted her teeth as she watched him bend over Joanna’s hand and place a lingering kiss on her fingers. Although she couldn’t decipher his words through the fog of anger clouding her mind, it was enough to hear the low rumble of his voice, that deep purr he used whenever he thought to be charming.
    How dare he make her feel uncomfortable, when he was supposed to be the one set off balance by the presence of his former fiancée.
    Joanna waved as Philip escorted her out of the drawing room. “Good-bye, Charlotte. Thank you for the invitation. I hope to see you soon.”
    Somehow Charlotte managed a placid smile instead of the rabid snarl she was more inclined to give.
    As soon as they disappeared into the hall, she paced to the window overlooking the front drive. She saw Philip hand Joanna up into the carriage he’d insisted she use to travel home, saw how they grinned at each other like two idiots enthralled by their own half-witted pleasantries.
    It was one thing to know your husband found his pleasure in the beds of other women, and quite another to see him engage in such open flirtation, despite your presence.
    The carriage rattled away, and Philip turned back toward the house. Charlotte gave him a mocking nod as his gaze found