Free The Wagered Heart: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) by Rhonda Woodward Page B

the duke thought with admiration. He could always count on his sister to be awake upon every suit.
    He gazed down at the Beauty, who was looking at Lady Farren with startled eyes. It was disconcerting to find that her appearance exactly matched his memory. Her perfectly sculpted features, high cheekbones, and luminous gray eyes were surprisingly familiar considering the briefness of their only encounter. He became aware of his heart beating at a fast clip and chided himself for behaving like a schoolboy. But he had to own that it was not often that he found himselfin the position of making an apology to anyone, nonetheless someone he had insulted.
    “How do you do, Lady Fallbrook. I do not believe you have met my cousin, Miss Allard,” Lady Farren said in a hurried, breathless voice as she sketched a quick curtsy.
    As Miss Allard curtsied, she did not turn her gaze from his sister’s. Were her cheeks not flushed, Kel might wonder if she remembered him at all.
    “How do you do, Miss Allard. I would like to make known to you both, my brother, the Duke of Kelbourne.”
    Both young women curtsied, and he noted with some amusement the shallowness of Miss Allard’s bob. Removing his hat, he bowed with spare, precise grace while she studiously avoided his gaze.
    In a manner quite uncharacteristic of him, he hesitated in front of Miss Allard. For several months now, he had vaguely wished there were some way to apologize to this woman. Because he had not believed that he would ever see her again, the words had never fully formed in his mind. Now, with her sudden and unexpected appearance before him, he was finding it difficult to express himself.
    “Lady Farren, I am wondering if you recognize the variety of rose I was just examining. It is an unusual shade of pink,” Emmaline said, drawing her arm through the baroness’s and gently guiding her away.
    Kel saw the panicked expression on Lady Farren’s face before she sent a helpless look to Miss Allard. Miss Allard’s countenance was unreadable, except for her flushed cheeks.
    Kel decided to plunge ahead. “Miss Allard, I believe it is my good fortune to meet you today. There is no use in pretending that I do not owe you my deepest apology.”
    Drawing her wrap closer around her shoulders, Miss Allard made no comment to this blunt beginning. At least she was now looking at him, he noted with some satisfaction.
    Gazing into her fathomless gray eyes, a warm smile came to his lips. This particular smile usually elicited a gratifying response from ladies of all ages.
    “Though it has been nigh on a year, I daresay that you have not forgotten our encounter.”
    One of her elegant brows arched up a fraction, but she said nothing.
    “You do remember our…er…brief meeting on Bolton Street in London? I will confess that if you have put the ridiculous incident out of your mind, I would count myself fortunate.” He finished with a lopsided, self-deprecating smile.
    The silence stretched between them for a long, uncomfortable moment.
    “I remember, Your Grace.”
    Standing before her on the expanse of grass, with the late afternoon sun highlighting her face, Kel was struck again by her beauty. With her statuesque figure and pale gold hair, she was an artist’s fantasy of a Greek goddess. He had a talent with the paints and wondered if he could possibly do justice to her magnificence if he attempted to capture her on canvas.
    Catching hold of his wayward thoughts, he continued. “I will not make excuses, nor bore you with explanations—except to say that a lark got well out of hand and I am sorry.”
    Her closed expression did not change. “A lark?”
    Somehow, this was not working out as he had planned. Her unwavering gaze was beginning to disturb him. He tried again, spreading his hands wide. “Yes. You see, I made a vow to Dame Fortune—for reasons I won’t go into—to honor her by salutingwith a kiss the most beautiful woman I encountered the next day.”
    Gad, when