Page 2 of Unbound Duchess

Ellen still shook her head.

“Think of it, Ellen!” Judith insisted. “Your one and only kiss would come from someone who is reputed for seduction. It will not be one given in haste by a desperate boy just wanting to have his first experience, but by a man who is skilled at providing pleasure!”

When Ellen did not answer, Judith unleashed another sigh of frustration and began tapping her foot as she crossed her arms.

“How about this then…” Judith said. “I still need to go and find him. I am certain he is here. You go into that room there, at the end of the hall, and wait for us. At least speak to him. If, after that, you still find yourself unable to allow such a gift, you can turn him down. Though I am certain you will be the first woman in history to do so, I will take you home without protest. Do we have an accord?”

Ellen hesitated for a moment, then nodded her head.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I suppose I could. I can always change my mind.”

A devious smirk drew across Judith’s face as she snatched Ellen’s hand.

“Trust me. Once you see him, you will not want to leave. He is tall, very handsome. And he has dark features. He is a dream brought to life.”

A tremble of anticipation moved down Ellen’s spine as Judith led her to the room at the end of the hall. Was she truly going to allow this?

A kiss, a real kiss was something she had yearned for since she had read her first romance novel long ago. Yet the man in her book was far different than the men in her social circles. He was different. Gruff toward others but so sweet and kind to the leading lady. She was sure no man in the London Ton could prove to be anything more than the pompous aristocrats they presented themselves as.

Save, perhaps, for this rakish duke Judith spoke of.

“Go on,” Judith urged, pushing Ellen through the doorway. “Get comfortable. I shall be but a moment.”

Ellen wrinkled her nose as she was shoved rather roughly into the room, but before she could do or say anything about it, Judith shut the door between them. Alone, she expelled a deep breath and took stock of the firelit room.

She was in a library, she realized as she took in the shelves of books lining the walls, with a rather large fireplace sitting on the opposite wall from the door. A high-backed couch with large, cushioned armchairs sitting on either side of it took up the middle of the room. She decided that such a couch would be the perfect place to sit and debate whether or not she should do what Judith insisted upon—if she could even sit down in the unbearably tight gown.

She gasped as she rounded the couch, her cheeks setting ablaze yet again as she discovered that she was not alone. There was a muscular man sitting there, dressed finely in cream britches, a matching coat, and a simple black mask. He did not look up at her as she made a sound of surprise. Instead, he kept his gaze on the fire before them as he brought his glass to his lips.

“Need the room?” he asked, his deep voice mirroring his obvious boredom.

Ellen anxiously twisted her fingers together as she bowed her head.

“I—in truth, I do not know,” she confessed.

The man let out a dry chuckle and turned to her with a handsome smirk that showed off his chiseled jawline and white teeth.

“You do not know?” he asked, setting down his glass.

Ellen let out a nervous laugh as she raked her gaze quickly over him once more. Dark hair, cut short and parted to the side, styled with pomade. A sharp jawline and matching cheeks. Chiseled lips accentuated by the cut of his mask, and he had a clean, cool scent that she could not quite place but loved immediately.

Judith had gone looking for the duke, but as Ellen stared down at the handsome man, she wondered if her friend had unwittingly already led her to him.

“Are you…” she drew in a breath, feeling her nerves threaten to frazzle into dust. “Are you the Duke of Calder?”

This time, the man’s chuckle was sharp and loud as he picked up his glass again.

“I hate you to disappoint you, but alas, I am not he,” he said before taking another sip from his glass. “Though I am well aware of his reputation and I am assuming that you are looking for him because of said reputation?”

Embarrassment flooded through Ellen, followed quickly by frustration.

“How dare you make an assumption, sir,” she stated coldly as she stopped fidgeting and fisted her hands by her sides.

“Is my assumption wrong?” he asked, clearly unbothered by her tone.

Ellen’s plump lips parted, but no words came out as the man turned his head toward her and looked her over carefully.

“You are his type,” the man mused. “High-painted and strung in tight.”