Page 25 of How to Tempt a Duke

There was perhaps only one way to find out: to cast her fate to the stars and allow Lottie to help pull free the ties.

Charles had grudgingly admitted that Eleanor was a pretty woman. Even her red hair, which some of the ton had described as gaudy, he found uniquely fascinating in the way it set off the creaminess of her skin. But when she smiled, truly smiled, it transformed her face into a beauty no one could deny.

Good God. If she greeted every man with such open affection, and if they all were granted the glint of those bewitching green eyes, Lady Eleanor would be in no danger of consigning herself to a spinster’s life.

The kitten had settled itself contentedly against the elegant curve of her collarbone. Funny that Charles hadn’t noticed before the lovely smoothness of her fair skin, the graceful arch of her long neck.

Lottie caught Charles’s eye. She lifted her brows in a confident manner which radiated the unctuous touting of her victory.

For her part, Lady Eleanor had dropped her attention back to the furry body cuddled against her.

“Now that you’ve been properly introduced, perhaps we ought to progress to conversation,” said Lottie, and carefully lifted the kitten from her lap and replaced it alongside its mother.

Lady Eleanor removed the kitten from her chest and laughed softly as the beast tried to crawl back up her arm. After a few moments she freed the creature and returned it to its mother. The smile hovered in her eyes and left a particularly lovely flush to her cheeks.

Lottie gently set aside the basket in a quiet corner of the room and pulled the blanket over it. Lady Eleanor elegantly rose to her feet and he saw the familiar stiffness take up residence in her shoulders. But then after a lifetime of wearing such rigidity it could not be cast aside with the ease of a cloak. It would take time...practice.

Except all the time it took to perfect was time Charles was without the journals.

He had been sitting on the floor beside the ladies, but now pushed himself to his feet without ceremony. After all, there was no proper protocol for the etiquette involving ladies on the ground playing with animals.

Now standing, he offered a courteous bow. “How are you this evening, Lady Eleanor?”

The transformation was immediate. The light in her eyes was shuttered, leaving stark politeness in its place.

“I’m well, thank you.” Her words were devoid of the friendliness they’d been brimming with only moments before. “And how are you?”

“Well, thank you. I wonder if I might be fortunate enough to claim you for a dance?” He grinned down at her in the hope that she might relax more. “Forgive me for being so bold, but I must say you look lovely this evening.”

She gave a perfunctory smile. “Thank you. I’d be honored to dance with you.”

A thick and uncomfortable silence thudded between them.

Lady Eleanor’s brow puckered. “This is terribly awkward...”

“Perhaps I may offer some suggestions.” Lottie appeared beside them. “You are a reader, from what I understand?”

Lady Eleanor’s face lit up. “I am.”

“And do you immerse yourself in the stories when you read them?”

“Oh, indeed,” breathed Lady Eleanor.

Charles stared in wonder. Was Lady Eleanor truly being wistful?

“Close your eyes and imagine being a character in one of your favorite books during a romantic scene.”

The expression on Lady Eleanor’s face relaxed, and when she opened her eyes once more there was intimacy in her expression. Lottie nudged Charles and nodded at him.

He offered Lady Eleanor the lazy half smile women had always seemed to hold in high regard. “Good evening, Lady Eleanor. You look enchanting. I trust you are well?”

Lady Eleanor peered up at him through a veil of black lashes. “Quite, thank you. And yourself?”

Good God. “All the better now.”

A tinge of color swept over her cheeks. A glint of something mischievous shone in her eyes. When she looked at him like that, as if she were teasing him with a secret, he could stare at her all day. It was suddenly too easy to imagine her laid out on a chaise longue, the top of her gown falling from a naked shoulder, that glorious red hair spilling over the swell of her breasts.

“Dance with me this evening.” He hadn’t said it as an invitation or an offer. It was a command, and one he wished he had the right to make.