Free Duchess in Love by Eloisa James

She could tell he wasn’t pleased to find her with her husband. He had said earlier that he thought the duke should return to London so as to avoid complicating the annulment proceedings.
    Cam thought of bowing and decided to skip it. He was getting tired of looking at the floor. Just then the footman reappeared, holding two glasses. “Thank you very much,”he said, taking them and handing one to Gina. “Sorry we don’t have a glass for you, Bonnington.”
    Gina sighed. Sebastian’s mouth closed like a steel trap. Clearly he thought she’d had more than enough to drink and, to be honest, she had. There was nothing she disliked more than feeling sluggish in the morning. “I don’t wish for any champagne. Would you mind terribly fetching me some lemonade, Sebastian?”
    He gave her an approving nod and plucked the champagne out of her hand. Then he bowed again and began making his way out of the room.
    â€œHow the devil did he manage to bow without spilling the champagne?” Cam asked. “Damn! Now you’ll have to share mine, and I was looking forward to swilling the lot.” He held the glass out to Gina with such a merry, wicked look in his eyes that she took it without thinking and drank some.
    He comfortably leaned against the wall next to her. “Shouldn’t some man be pestering you for this dance?”
    â€œI had promised it to Sebastian.” She took another sip of champagne, wondering why her pulse was racing.
    â€œBut you can’t dance twice with the same man,” he said.
    â€œRemember those letters you wrote me when you just came out?”
    â€œI can’t believe you remember that! Why, that was years ago.”
    â€œI have a good memory,” he said lazily. “So are you risking scandal by loping around the dance floor with your betrothed twice?”
    â€œOh no,” Gina said. “Those rules only apply to girls just out of the schoolroom. Although Sebastian does restrict himself to three.”
    He turned his head and looked at her. “If I was betrothed to you, rather than just being your husband, I wouldn’t let you dance a single dance with anyone else.”
    Gina felt a lick of fire in her stomach. “Oh,” she said lamely. Her conscience prompted her to defend her betrothed. “Sebastian feels we are in a very precarious position. Here I am, married, after all.” She took out her fan and waved it gently before her face. There was nothing worse than a flushed face with red hair, as her mother had repeatedly told her.
    â€œYes,” he said meditatively. “Here you are, married, after all.” He reached over, plucked the champagne glass from her hand, and took a drink.
    Gina licked her lips. There was something incredibly intimate about sharing a glass. Perhaps the bubbles were going to her head again.
    â€œShall we sit down?” he asked.
    â€œAll right,” Gina said.
    He walked straight across the room and ducked into one of the little alcoves off the ballroom. Heavy ocher silk swung closed behind them.
    Gina sat down on the little velvet sofa, flustered. “I never enter these alcoves.”
    Cam looked around and then sat next to her. “Why on earth not? It’s a little airless, to be sure. And I don’t think much for Lady Troubridge’s artistic sense.” He peered at a picture of a lackadaisical Cupid sitting on a buttercup.
    â€œCurtained alcoves aren’t considered proper.”
    He looked at her with frank amusement in his eyes. “I’d just as soon spend all my time in an alcove and none of it skipping around. Have some more champagne.” He handed her the glass. “I think we should finish it before Bonnington returns, don’t you think?”
    She pushed it back into his hand. “I don’t care for any, thank you very much.”
    â€œHow are you, Gina?”
    â€œAbsolutely fine,” she answered, startled.
    He