Read Not Quite A Duke (Dukes' Club Book 6) for Free Online Page B

realized as he leaned forward and contemplated the ashy fire.
    She had agreed to be his ally to placate him not because she had softened to him.
    He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Every woman he set his sights on couldn’t fall at his feet, though in the past, they all had.
    It was difficult to understand this woman who so easily slipped his net and who, though clearly tempted, was able to deny her desire for him so thoroughly.
    In fact, he was now certain that she had been fooling him the whole evening. Not once had she truly wished him to stay. Not once had she revealed anything intentionally about herself.
    He couldn’t shake the image of her honeyed hair falling about her face in wild waves or her hazel eyes blazing as she’d stood in all her passion and righteous indignation while the fire had bathed her in its warm caress.
    Somehow, he’d cocked it up.
    The entire situation, he knew, was odd in the extreme. Yet, he’d felt confident that he was going to be able to unearth Lady P’s secret and unleash her confidence in him.
    He’d been greatly mistaken.
    And he’d failed to convince her of how marvelous she was.
    It was difficult to hear such an exceptional woman be so self-deprecating. He had little doubt that she was an excellent writer. For surely, her austere surface hid a deep inner world. Certainly, the few words he’d read suggested that her imagination was wild and marvelous, indeed.
    She should have the chance of being appreciated by the world at large.
    Perhaps, as many women did, Lady Patience simply believed she wasn’t worthy of the world’s notice or praise.
    This bothered him
    All her life she’d been in this house, alone, facing the consequences of her uncle’s behavior.
    She’d clearly been no stranger to the consequences of her uncle’s actions. For she’d asked, what had Uncle Reginald done now?
    Clearly, Lady Patience had spent a good deal of time picking up the pieces of her uncle’s existence.
    She deserved recognition and praise.
    And what had he done? He’d come to evict her. Unknowingly, true. But he hadn’t exactly made the experience easy.
    He’d been himself. . . And being himself wasn’t easy for most people to swallow.
    Charles stood and made his way to the dying fire. The barest of heat emanated from the charred ashes.
    He took another sip of brandy and felt a wave of emotions that he normally didn’t permit.
    Charles was accustomed to failing people. He’d failed his father and, in turn, his mother. The last year had been one long terrible slog of coming to terms with the brutal turn his life had taken.
    And so, he found that it rubbed him the wrong way that he had failed Lady Patience in just about every way a man could and in fewer hours than it took to fill a day.
    Surely there was something he could do?
    Charles glanced down to her writing desk.
    It was well worn and, from the edge, a piece of paper was peeking out.
    He paused. A better man, a man of honor wouldn’t sneak and lift the lid of her desk.
    But as he had made so clear the day before, he was a master sneak.
    So, without permitting that oh so nauseating sensation of honor to rear its sanctimonious head again, Charles lifted the desk lid.
    Inside sat two thick bundles.
    Each bore a title page in a clear, bold hand.
    The one on the left read, The Amorous Flight of Lady Phoebe Trilby and the one to the right, The Wicked and Most Lamentable Fall of Lady Anne .
    The titles reminded him a little of The Wicked Adventures and Journey of Calliope Baker , but Lady Patience had claimed that she did wish to write similar stories so it was no surprise that she would imitate a work she admired.
    After a moment’s pause, he collected one of the manuscripts then moved her writing chair closer to the dying fire.
    He sat and slipped the title page away and began to read.
    ***
    E lizabeth Barton was everything that Patience wished she could be or at least imagined so. Where Patience was plain, mousy-haired, and