Read All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) for Free Online Page A

Informal entertainment.”
    “Are you sure you don’t mean court jester?” she said, with just a touch of annoyance seething in her words.
    Ah. Her disguise was wavering to paper thin. Could he provoke her into revealing herself? He couldn’t help but wonder what would drive a young lady, for he was certain she was a lady what with her vocabulary and warmed tones, to such machinations as pretending to be a lad. In due course, he’d discover her reasons.
    Her attempts at lies were so exceptionally poor that he was astonished that anyone had believed them. He might have to give her a lesson in deception if she were determined to keep her ruse alive outside his chamber. Because he wouldn’t allow the ruse to last for long.
    Every moment was a delicious lead to that moment of shock upon her elfin features when he called her out on her masquerade. Hmmm. How many days could he extend her torture?
    “My, my Alfred,” he said, pulling his cravat free of his neck than dangling it out for her to collect. He wanted her close. Devil that it made him, he wanted to see her blush. “One would think you weren’t excited to be my servant. Or would you rather go back to shoveling remnants?”
    She grumbled under her breath.
    He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “Am I, indeed, so offensive? Does horse shit truly seem more preferable than my company? Or is it your taste? Can your taste be that inferior?”
    He undid the tie at his throat. “Luckily for you, taste is something that can be altered. You will learn to enjoy my company.”
    A mumbled collection of words huffed past her lips.
    He could have sworn the words horse and ass were amongst them. “Do you have a fondness for equine buttocks?”
    Her cheeks burst with red patches. “No!”
    “Then whatever are you muttering? Are your wits wandering?”
    “I— I—“ her voice rose with each exclamation and her chin jutted out with defiance.
    “Yes?” he asked, then pulled the tie at his throat letting his shirt fall open. In one swift yank, he tugged the linen shirt over his head and tossed it at her.
    It, like his jacket, fluttered to the floor.
    She positively gaped.
    Her eyes roved over him, studying the contours of his chest as if she might learn the answer to some secret in his sinew. God, it was a satisfying thing to see. How much she approved of his physique.
    But there was something else.
    An innocence.
    Had she never seen a naked man before? Such a thing seemed nigh impossible given that she’d been masquerading as a boy. Men, in his experience, didn’t hide their nakedness in the male servant’s quarters.
    Unless. . . Where was Alfred staying?
    Suddenly, despite all the fun in teasing her, he had a disturbing thought. If someone else had learned of her deceit they might have responded in a very different sort of way.
    They might have hurt her.
    Anger so intense his entire body burned hit him in the gut.
    “Your Grace?” she finally managed. “Are you well? You have the most curious expression on your face.”
    “I’m thinking.”
    “I despair for whoever has inspired such dark thoughts.”
    It was so tempting to keep pushing her but this wasn’t just about his pleasure. He was a man of duty, after all. Had Alfred been running from someone? Someone who had been hurting her? It would certainly explain the strange disguise.
    As much as he might enjoy extending this, he couldn’t. Not when her lies put her at risk at almost every moment.
    That anger inside him burned hotter. So hot, he let out a hiss of sudden fury. “I think it’s time you stop lying to me.”
    She blinked innocently and took a step back. “Lying?”
    “Damn it, Alfred.”
    “Your Grace, I’ve only told the one lie,” she rushed, her blue eyes wide.
    He took a step forward. “How far do you intend to play this out?”
    “Play what out?” She licked her bottom lip, a gesture she likely had no idea made her seem like a ripe plum ready for picking.
    It only added to his ire. What