An American Duchess Read Online Free PDF Page B

horrified guests, Sebastian sealed his mouth to his fiancée’s lips.
    A hot red flush of embarrassment rushed up the back of Nigel’s neck. As duke, he had to put a stop to the scandalous display—
    A cane sharply struck the floor. The dowager duchess’s voice soared to fill the drawing room. “Good heavens, Sebastian, desist. How will I face my dinner with this image burned on my eyes?”

 3 
    DINNER AT BRIDESWELL
    What did he mean by proposing to her?
    They had a business agreement already. What more did they need beyond an intent to sign a contract and a handshake to seal it?
    A footman bowed at Zoe’s side, presenting a silver tray filled with oysters, redolent with garlic and lemon. Her appetite had evaporated but she plopped an oyster on her plate to be polite, alongside two wafer-thin slices of cucumber topped with cream cheese and caviar, also taken to make it appear she was not at all troubled, that she was thrilled Sebastian had made her a gushily romantic offer of marriage.
    He had kissed her. Not just a sweet peck, suitable for viewing by his mother and grandmother. He’d swept her into a flamboyant, passionate kiss, long and intense. But she hadn’t felt anything except surprise.
    Sebastian sat across from her, down the table from his brother. Zoe couldn’t read Sebastian’s heavy-lidded, cool and jaded gaze. They were a small, intimate party housed in a gigantic dining room. There was the duke; the dowager, who had found Sebastian’s romantic proposal shocking; the duchess; Sebastian; his sister Julia; his fourteen-year-old sister, Isobel; two older gentlemen friends of the duchess; herself; and Mother.
    Zoe glanced down at the ostentatious ruby ring. The proposal and the kiss must have been gestures to distract his family. To make them believe this marriage was the real thing. But it wasn’t, and the Duke of Langford knew it.
    He hadn’t told the rest of the family. Why not? Why not try to turn them all against her, if he was so against this marriage?
    She applied a fork to the oyster, drawing out the plump treat and swallowing. Tart lemon, rich cream, the bite of garlic exploded on her tongue. Exquisite, but she was too startled to really think about the food going down her throat. Champagne was poured into her glass.
    Conversation droned around her. The dowager—a tall, thin woman in a dress of the prewar style—was making an emphatic point. She knew how to make her voice cut through all others. Sebastian was talking to Mother, and Mother, who now knew the truth of the arrangement, was determined to change their minds about ending the marriage. She appeared transfixed by Sebastian’s every charming word.
    Zoe had been just like that on the first night she’d met Sebastian.
    She’d thought jazz music, dancing and cocktails would help her think up a solution to her problem—her need for a marriage when her heart ached for Richmond. Lord Sebastian Hazelton had spent the entire night trying to coax the sorrow out of her eyes. In the end, she had poured the whole story out to him. He’d given her his story: an estate in ruins, a way of life crumbling, and his need to marry for money—something it offended him to do.
    It wasn’t supposed to be about love. She’d made that very clear. Yet that proposal had seemed so sincere. So had his kiss. What was he doing?
    She bit into a cucumber-and-caviar canapé and chased it down with a sip of champagne.
    Langford was staring at her over his champagne flute, with an intensity that burned brighter than the candles struggling to illuminate the room. He had not said a word to anyone yet, but in white tie and an elegant black tailcoat, with his severe black hair and arresting blue eyes, he dominated even this massive dimly lit room.
    Lifting her chin with pride, Zoe raised her glass slightly in a subtle, defiant toast to him. The duke put his glass to his lips, and his mouth softened as they touched his glass. An inappropriate shiver rushed down her