The Duke's Deceit Read Online Free PDF Page A

onto the bed to put the final period to Sir Robert’s doubts. With gentle fingers she brushed a heavy lock of hair from Richard’s brow. Gathering him to her, she leaned over, closed her eyes, and pressed a kiss upon his bruised cheek, near the long, relaxed mouth.
    “My darling Richard, I shall never rest until you are restored to me,” she murmured with what she hoped sounded like loving devotion. For good measure, she gave one shuddering sigh before lifting her lids.
    Shock froze her in place, her arms wrapped protectively around him, her hair enclosing them in privacy. Her supposed intended was awake. She stared into melting chocolate eyes that looked at her in bewilderment.
    “It seems I have been, my dear,” he whispered, his lips nearly brushing hers.

Chapter 2
    H is first awareness as he emerged from a black void was the melodious sound of a woman’s voice. It surrounded him with vague pleasure as he floated in a nether world, his lids seemingly stuck fast. It was more than he could do to rouse himself to open them.
    The touch of gentle fingers across his brow sent shivers of reaction where before there had been numbness. The touch continued along his cheekbone, stroking comfortingly. He could sense her leaning over him, feel her warm breath on his face, and then the faintest touch of her mouth upon his cheek.
    “My darling Richard, I shall never rest until you are restored to me.”
    Her voice held such longing as it caught on a sob. Again he fought the lethargy; who was this angel who called him from the darkness? He felt her hovering over him and, with the greatest act of sheer determination, parted his lids.
    The darkness fled as he opened his eyes within a heavy curtain of fragrant auburn hair.
    “It seems I have been, my dear.” He forced the whisper through his tight, dry throat.
    “Richard, you are awake!” she gasped, staring at him from wide cornflower blue eyes so close that he could see how thickly her lashes grew on the elongated lids.
    His mind couldn’t quite focus … visions and thoughts floated just out of his reach.
    Richard.
    Yes, his name was Richard.
    Sharp pain jabbed through his head and down the back of his neck, as he shifted slightly to study her as she abruptly rose from the bed.
    Her hair fell in a long, straight auburn mane, framing a pale face dominated by those cornflower eyes slightly tilted up at the corners, giving her a fey look.
    She looked like a wild creature of the woods, poised, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
    “Sir, I’m ever so pleased you’re awake!” A small woman spoke from behind the vision.
    He turned his head to look at her but couldn’t place her. Her round face glowed as she clasped her hands to her ample bosom.
    “Mr. Byron, I’m sure we’re all delighted at your amazing recovery.”
    Richard allowed his gaze to slowly move to the swarthy man in impeccable black riding clothes standing at the foot of the bed. His mind might still be as fuzzy as a newborn babe’s, but he recognized a sneer in that lazy drawl.
    “I am Sir Robert Lancaster. Mary’s closest neighbor.” His full lips curled in a slight smile. “I want to offer my congratulations on your sudden betrothal to Mary.”
    Both women gasped! Richard turned too quickly and pain exploded behind his eyes, blurring his vision.
    At his grimace of pain, the younger lady—Mary was it?—once again slipped onto the side of his bed.
    “Don’t tax yourself,” she soothed. “We’ll leave you to rest now. I shall return with a tray.”
    “Thank you.” He barely breathed the words before she shepherded everyone out, quietly closing the door behind her.
    He blinked, his gaze touching the small details of this cozy slope-ceilinged room. The delicate hangings, the carved rosewood jewel box, and a few crystal bottles on the low chest proclaimed this a woman’s domain.
    Spying a faded mirror over the washstand, he flung back the covers. It took more effort than he had imagined, but