To Marry The Duke Read Online Free PDF

hoping to make a good impression. But really, I wouldn’t doubt that she caused a few horrified swoonings just now, refusing to curtsy to you. Unless she wants to be cast out of London altogether, she really should be familiar with our manners and customs.”
    “I do believe she is, Whitby. She just does what she likes.” Before James walked away, he patted the earl on the arm, and added quietly, “Good luck with that one. You’ll need it.”
    He decided at that moment, to give up the idea of any kind of match with her—dowry or no dowry—for somehow, she had managed, in that brief, casual encounter, to again stir what had for years been consciously and contentedly still.

    Near the end of the night, James found his mother standing by the door where there was a breeze, fanning herself and looking displeased.
    “I saw you talking to the American,” she said right off.
    “Lord Whitby made the introduction.”
    “Hardly. I saw her march right up to you, bold as brass.” She glanced in the other direction. “Those Americans are always introducing
themselves
.”
    Hands clasped behind his back, James stood in a relaxed position beside his mother. Neither of them said anything for a time. They simply watched the dancing.
    “Lord Weatherbee’s daughter is out, you know,” his mother said. “Have you spoken to her this evening? She’s a charming little thing. Shame about Lady Weatherbee. Passed away last year.”
    The Dowager Duchess knew she should never push young girls in James’s face. She knew how much he loathed it, and that to do so did more harm than good. She was trying to be subtle now, but he knew what she was doing. He did not reply.
    “Look, there’s Lily,” the duchess said. “Dancing with that baron. Unfortunate, isn’t it, how short he is?”
    James smiled at his sister as she went by, dressed in a cream gown trimmed in gold. She looked like she was enjoying herself.
    A few minutes later, the final dance of the evening began. He’d been waiting for it—rather impatiently, he had to admit.
    He let his gaze calmly sweep the room and spotted the heiress at the precise instant she spotted him. He smiled and inclined his head, she smiled in return, and he took a step to go to her. Just then, his mother— whom he had completely forgotten just now—took hold of his sleeve.
    “You’re not going to dance with her, are you?” she asked, the lines on her hard face deepening with concern.
    James retrieved his arm from the duchess’s grasp. “You forget yourself, Mother.”
    She released him and took a step back, her face pale with pent-up frustration at not being able to stop him.
    Her displeasure had no effect on James, however, for since he had become a man, they both knew she could not control him. Beatings in the schoolroom were no longer possible, and God knew, he felt no obligation to please or appease her. No desire to make her happy or proud.
    James let the altercation roll swiftly and smoothly off his back, then straightened his tie and started off across the room toward the heiress.

 
    Chapter 3
      
    After giving Miss Wilson a moment to lift her train, James closed his gloved hand around hers and stepped into the “Blue Danube” with confidence and grace. He did enjoy dancing, and he was pleasantly surprised at the ease with which the heiress followed his lead. On her feet she was as weightless as a cloud floating upon a strong summer breeze. She smelled like flowers; he wasn’t sure what kind, only that they reminded him of spring when he was a boy—of the rare afternoons he was permitted to go off on his own, over the green grass and heath and bracken, down to the pleasingly calm, secluded lake.
    He hadn’t thought of such things in a long time.
    They danced the first few moments without speaking or making eye contact. He began to wonder what kind of life she led. What sort of house she lived in, what kind of education she’d had. She had asked him if he had siblings. He