Georgie told me that a gentleman’s foot size is directly related to?—
Josephine pushed the unsettling thought away. Her sister was often fanciful. She was not here to contemplate Lavisham’s person, no matter how splendid, but to convince him to give her the brooch. Glancing about the room, Josephine realized she wasn’t the only woman studying Lavisham.
Lady Tempand regarded the duke as if he were an overly large biscuit, the kind with pink icing. And the elderly Lady Carlton was spying at Lavisham through her quizzing glass while pretending to study her cards.
The duke seemed oblivious to their regard, never once looking up from the table. He was likely accustomed to suchblatant ogling given his appearance. Dukes attracted a great deal of attention even if they weren’t spectacular and possessed of a questionable reputation.
Josephine’s own attraction to Lavisham burned through the air, making her skin prickle and warm as she approached his chair, stopping just behind him. The sensation had only grown stronger with each encounter.
I wouldn’t pretend to be a courtesan for just any gentleman.
That was the sad truth of her association with Lavisham. What had started as the pursuit of an ugly piece of jewelry to gain her inheritance had turned into something more. At least, for her.
The cards rippled in Lavisham’s hand, nostrils flaring as if scenting her.
Lord Wilkes, her brother’s friend, sat across from Lavisham. He looked up at Josephine’s approach, surprise etched on his handsome features. He swiftly came to his feet. “Lady Josephine.”
“Lord Wilkes,” she returned politely before drifting around the table to face Lavisham. Her skirts fluttered around the duke’s ankles in a flirtatious manner before Josephine dipped into a curtsey, one low enough to give him a view of the deep valley between her breasts. “Your Grace.”
A growl came from Lavisham, eyes dipping to her bosom.
Based on the events of the night she’d broken into his home, Josephine was reasonably certain Lavisham was attracted to her, though at the time, he’d thought her a courtesan. But on Bond Street, he had regarded her with a great deal of heat in those startling blue eyes. She’d come to the conclusion that Lavisham, no matter that he could likely bed any woman in England, foundherto his taste. Josephine couldn’t explain why. Nor would she question it. She only knew that his admirationgave her a light, heady feeling, the same as one gains from drinking champagne.
So if…she must expose her bosom to secure Lavisham’s attention she would do so. Father wanted them to live boldly, did he not?
Lavisham didn’t take her hand. Nor greet her. Instead, he studied Josephine with a predatory glint, like a great cat about to pounce on a plump pigeon.
Lord Wilkes looked between them, brows pulling together in question. “I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lady Josephine, Your Grace.”
“Moderately,” Lavisham answered in a lazy, indolent tone, as if he could barely be bothered to speak. “Lady Josephine”—the rasp of her name coming from the duke had a quiver slipping up her spine—“and I were introduced at Lady Randall’s garden party. I’m told the hyacinths did not survive the encounter.” The stunning blue of the duke’s eyes, like the shallows of the ocean when the sun hits it, swept over her.
“I’ve always considered them the weakest sort of flora,” Josephine retorted. “The stems snap easily.”
Lavisham’s eyes twinkled back at her. “I thought the weakest flora to be a violet. Or an orchid. Though it is rare to find them at a garden party. Or even in a room where cards are being played.”
Wilkes appeared utterly confused.
“I prefer roses,” Josephine said. “Thorns,” she said pointedly, “do not bother me.”
“Unless you fall into them after a climb.” He winked at her.
Damn him.
He’d seen Josephine’s pathetic attempt at scaling his garden wall. She’d been nearly skewered, and Lavisham had watched the entire affair.
“I apologize for the interruption,” she said in a cool tone to Wilkes. “But I must speak to the duke on a matter of some urgency. Privately.”
“I’m sure it must do with fauna. Birds, in particular. Lady Josephine is something of a birdwatcher, aren’t you?” He turned to Wilkes. “She has an affinity for tail feathers.”
“My lady,” Wilkes leaned to gently whisper in Josephine’s ear. “I do not think it wise to be seen in the company of Lavisham.” He nodded to the guests in the card room, many of whom had paused in their game to consider why Lady Josephine Harrington was speaking to the Duke of Lavisham. “Your reputation should be considered.”
Lavisham tilted his head back, bemused. Daring her to continue with this madness. “Speak louder, Wilkes. I can hardly hear you decry my debauchery.”
Wilkes pressed his lips together. “I meant no disrespect, Your Grace.”
“Oh…” Lavisham waved a hand. “None taken.”
“It will only take a moment, my lord,” Josephine assured Wilkes. “We can speak just outside, Your Grace.”
