CHAPTER ONE
Stanwood Place, June 1823
Leo, Duke of Chandos reached for his mistress while her friend kneeled between his legs. Having her friend with them was a present for him. It was good that she didn’t know he was going to dismiss her by next week. Pamela climbed on top of him, she reached back to adjust his pillow. Why was the pillow so flat and rough? The linens he kept at the villa were always soft and the pillows plump. Suddenly he was drowning in cold water. How did he fall into the water from a bed? And where were the women?
“Wake up.”
What the devil? Women never spoke to him in that tone of voice. He opened his eyes and drops of water flowed into them. “What is going on?”
A young lady stood over him with her hands on her hips. “You are supposed to be helping Charlie, not lying there as if you crawled into a bottle of brandy and forgot to crawl back out.”
He stared at her, trying to get his eyes to better focus. “You are shouting.”
“I am not. I am not even speaking loudly.” An evil look entered the lady’s lapis-blue eyes, which was all he could seem to see. “However, I will do if you do not get up. Immediately.”
“No!” Leo’s head was already throbbing. He didn’t need more pain. He pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m up.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and her foot began to tap. He’d imagined a dainty foot encased in silk. But this one was shod in sturdy leather. “Not. Good. Enough.”
It was then that he noticed her chestnut hair flowed down her back in curls. “A schoolroom miss?” Finally, the rest of her came into focus. “You’re the one who beat me at cards.”
“And you are that duke.” Lady Theodora Vivers pressed her rosy lips together. “It does not matter. Rise now, or I will take other measures.”
Concerned over what “other measures” could mean, Leo scrambled to his feet. “Where am I needed?”
She regarded him as if he was a worm. “I will have a bath sent to you. You have half an hour to make yourself presentable and meet the rest of us in the drawing room. And brush your teeth. You smell like a still.”
Turning on her heel, she strode away. He’d never been treated like that in his entire life. He’d never been spoken to in that manner. And certainly not by a young chit. God help the gentlemen of London when she came out. She’d stand everyone on their collective ears. An image of fribbles standing in line to ask for her attention appeared in his mind.
No! She’s mine.
Blast it all. He was going to marry her.
He dragged himself to his feet and chased after her. “Lady Theo!”
She stopped and turned to face him.
“You could marry me.” He hadn’t planned to propose. It had just popped out. It must be his desire to make her his wife. “When you come out next year, of course.”
Her eyes widened, and she laughed. “You would hate being married to me.”
Leo hadn’t expected that. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t know why.”
Lady Theo held up one finger. “You would no longer be able to drink to excess.”
She had a point, but he was becoming tired of the hangovers.
She held up finger two. “You would not be allowed your high-flyers, widows, or bored wives.”
He had a feeling if he had her it wouldn’t matter. But how the hell did a schoolroom chit know about that?
“Three.” The third finger came up. “You would have to actually do something with your life.”
“I do do things with my life. I’m a duke.”
“That is a rank with the possibility of an avocation. Not an occupation.”
