The Duke’s Desire Read Online Free PDF Page A

not think the dear duke need worry about that,” Lady Smurston interjected with a simper. “Women are all too anxious to fall in love with him.”
    “Or to make love with me, at any rate.”
    As all the ladies save Verity looked scandalized, Eloise swatted her cousin with her fan. “Galen! Such talk!”
    “Forgive me, Eloise,” he said without a hint of contrition.
    Verity hoped the duke would decide this was an appropriate time to move on, but instead, he again fastened his intense, sardonic gaze upon her. “Davis-Jones? That is a Welsh name, is it not?”
    “My late husband was Welsh.”
    “Indeed? Then a fine singer, too, no doubt.”
    “Yes.”
    “Love songs, I suppose?”
    What was he getting at? “Sometimes.”
    “Do you sing, too?”
    His lips curved up into a smile that seemed to entice her beyond all measure to lie and say that she did. “No, Your Grace.”
    He arched a brow. “No?”
    “No.”
    “A pity.” He turned to Eloise. “Does Lady Mary sing?”
    “Of course. As I said, she is very accomplished.”
    “I thought so.” He faced the ladies, including Verity. “If you will be so kind as to excuse me, I shall endeavor to persuade Lady Mary to demonstrate her accomplishments.”
    He sauntered toward the wealthy, titled young lady who, it seemed, was definitely the object of his pursuit and who blushed furiously when she realized he was approaching her.
    “I do not think music is all he has in mind,” Mrs. Ponsonby sneered.
    Verity was very glad they were leaving in the morning. She wouldn’t have to endure these gossiping women—or anyone else—anymore.

Chapter Three
    G alen told himself he would prefer to forget Verity Escombe had ever existed. After all, whatever they had shared once had been little enough, and long ago, and it had never been affection.
    Despite this resolution, he couldn’t prevent himself from wondering when and how the shy, awestruck girl had become the vibrant, defiant woman able to give him his due in a verbal battle, and even send him from the field in embarrassed confusion? Gad, it had been years since anybody had made him wish he had spoken differently, about anything.
    Perhaps marriage had been the making of her, and if so, she must indeed have been happily, fortunately wed—a truly rare thing in this world, he knew.
    “Poor Mrs. Davis-Jones,” Lady Mary noted asshe followed Galen’s gaze. “I gather she was quite pretty in her day.”
    Lady Mary’s voice held no malice; nevertheless, he turned to regard her with grave intensity.
    She flushed with embarrassment and put her hand to the gold chain at her slender throat. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
    “Not a thing,” Galen replied. It would not be polite to reveal that he was trying to determine how bad Lady Mary’s eyesight was, for if Verity was pretty in her youth, she was beautiful now, with the fullness of motherhood to round out her slender body, and an unmistakable, intriguing confidence.
    “Your Grace, would you care to join me at the pianoforte?” Lady Mary asked. “Lady Bodenham has some excellent duets. I am sure there must be one you and I both know.”
    While she waited for his answer, she smiled tremulously, as if speaking to him were a great act of bravery on her part.
    It was a reaction he encountered all too frequently. In his youth, it had been a stimulating compliment. Now he found it tiresome.
    “Alas, I fear I am no singer,” he replied truthfully.
    Not like Verity’s Welsh husband.
    He wondered if little Jocelyn had inherited her father’s voice, for the Welsh were notable singers.She must have her father’s dark hair. Those glossy black curls did not come from Verity.
    “Perhaps you could turn the pages for me while I play?” Lady Mary suggested.
    If her smile had not been so guileless, he might have suspected that Lady Mary was not ignorant of the fact that if he stood beside her while she played, her cleavage, such as it was, would be on display.
    Well, why