Free The Duke's Obsession (Entangled Scandalous) by Frances Fowlkes Page B

crowd was at its thinnest, and where the subtle scent of him, of bergamot and cloves, blended together and made her want to lean closer, if only to fill her nose with the exotic fragrance. “I don’t expect you to readily toss aside your misconceptions. I fully intend to prove them wrong. Respectively, I expect the same from you in exchange for my investment and the weight of my name.”
    “You wish for me to prove the worthiness of my name while considering you as a person without the weight of yours?” she asked. Never mind that this entire idea was absurd. She had no intention of casting aside her opinions of him, just because he, arrogant man, proclaimed them to be wrong.
    The duke lifted two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and handed her one. “More or less, yes.”
    Daphne frowned at his madness before taking the glass, his gloved fingers lingering over hers and making her near drop the dratted vessel. She took a small sip of the bubbling drink, allowing the delicate bouquet to dance over her tongue before replying, “The success of our shipping line should be evidence enough of our credibility, and one I can readily prove with documentation. My brother has brought along records and can vouch for our accomplishments.”
    “I’m certain he can,” the duke said, leaning forward, his voice taking on a deeper and more sensual tone. “But I did not ask for Mr. Farrington’s opinion. I asked for yours.”
    Daphne’s heart raced beneath the thin layer of silk and lace her aunt had insisted she don for the evening’s entertainments. The man was positively vexing. As long as the ledgers provided proof of her family’s success, what difference did it make as to who displayed them? Attempting to infuse her voice with a patience she did not feel, she replied, “I can arrange a meeting where Thomas and I provide you with the relevant documents.”
    He glanced at the sparkling liquid and took a deep swallow. “Excellent. And as time is of the essence, you can do so in three days, when you arrive at Thornhaven.” He placed the empty glass on a tray and led her a step closer toward the violinist and her growing crowd of admirers.
    “Thornhaven?” she asked, glancing nervously around her as she glided past more curious faces. Perhaps it was in another area of Mayfair, overlooking Grosvenor Square or the boundaries of Hyde Park.
    The duke swept her past a rotund man with large jowls and beady eyes. “Thornhaven is one of my estates, the closest one to London, just under a day’s ride away and where I wish to challenge your misconceptions and sway your mind. The countess and her daughters will accompany you and your brother, of course.”
    It was a demand, not a request, and she had no intent of acceding to it. A trip to an estate outside of London implied an extended period of time. Time, that would likely be spent in the close company of a man whose very scent made her mind spin and her body yearn for his touch. A meeting within the city’s boundaries would be more than sufficient to address any of his concerns—and keep him at a distance.
    “But would not a visit to my aunt’s home suffice?” Daphne persisted. “Thomas keeps the majority of his papers in my uncle’s library. Surely we can accommodate your needs without hindering you or your staff.”
    “Yes, I suppose you could,” he said. “Though that would not allow enough time to change your perception of me.” He peered down at her, his crystalline blue eyes heating her more thoroughly than the crushed and ill-ventilated ballroom.
    Daphne drank down a gulp of champagne before letting out an exasperated sigh. “And who am I that you value my opinion so highly, Your Grace?” She had made her disdain for his country quite clear. Why did he persist in tormenting her with his presence?
    The duke flicked a piece of lint off his superfine jacket. “Just as you have asked me to clear your name of all misconceptions, I wish to disprove the false