“So I’ve been told, love. So I’ve been told.” He picked up her hand though she tried to keep it at her side, and bestowed a kiss across her knuckles. “And always at your service, should you need to make another deal with the devil.” With a wink, he pulled back, chuckling.
Chapter Seven
A Deal is Made
Katherine narrowed her eyes at the man. Surely he was the devil himself! The injustice of it all. By all appearances it would look — well, it would look like she was besotted with the man, and then when it would be time for them to announce their betrothal, there would be no betrothal to announce. Her parents would be livid, she would still be utterly ruined, and Benedict would get away scot free, Devil Duke reputation intact, and if anything, even more famous throughout the ton!
But worse of all, her heart dropped as her mind played the truth over and over again in her head. The Duke of Paisley would be out of reach, for even if he wasn’t already betrothed to Lady Anastasia, what would he possibly want with a ruined girl?
So, it was in that moment, when she looked at the choices laid out before her, that she became selfish and impulsive. If no one was to have her, if love would never be her destiny, perhaps she could make the duke's life a living, waking nightmare. For it was his fault that this was all coming to pass.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked, grinning and leaning forward to receive a kiss, no doubt.
“Oh, because.” She gave him her most coy look and blinked her eyes, resting them finally on his lips as her eyelashes fluttered. She looked back up, into his piercing gaze.
Eyes dilated, his gaze was ravenous, dark, sensual. She gulped and leaned forward. His lips met hers in a frenzy. She reciprocated, allowing herself one moment of weakness before biting his bottom lip, hoping she would draw blood.
The duke cursed. “What the devil was that for?”
“Ruining my happiness, that’s what. Good day, your grace, it seems we have two weeks to become acquainted. Get your beauty rest, for you’ll need it.”
He cursed again as the carriage came to a halt in front of her house. “Oh, and Banbury?” She stepped out of the carriage and turned. “Consider yourself warned. I never back down without a fight.”
“Been nearly killed thrice to prove that very true statement,” he muttered begrudgingly.
“Exactly.” She winked and walked into the house.
Not one to throw any sort of tantrums, Katherine stomped up the stairs and quietly closed her bedroom door, all the while forcing her mind to forget the feel of the devil’s lips as they caressed her own.
Why was he nicknamed the Devil Duke anyway? Granted, he leaned toward rakish tendencies and did have a slight obsession with horse racing, but didn’t all fashionable young gentleman?
The way things looked tonight, the men of London were drinking whiskey as if it was going out of style and slapping one another on the back as if being a man was such a brilliant privilege that they needed to keep congratulating one another on their sex.
Katherine knew she needed to get her rest, for tomorrow would be the most trying day of all. For at dawn, she had to begin courting the devil himself and every able-minded person in London would sit back and watch the entertainments, for she would be the first woman to ever gain a proposal from the duke.
****
Knock, knock, knock. Benedict lifted his pounding head, rising slowly from the warmth of his bed. The knocks began anew.
He cursed.
“I know you’re in there!” the voice boomed.
Agatha.
Well, now it was final. She was singlehandedly trying to kill him. Had she no respect for the inebriated and half dead? He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes just as the door burst open. Agatha entered with his irritated valet, Percy, in tow.
“How could you?” she screamed again affirming his earlier assumption that she was planning his demise.
“How could I, what?”
“Be such a man!”
He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or horrified that his aunt had accused him of such. He looked down to make sure at least half of his body was covered and sighed in relief that he was.
“Did you want me to be a woman?”
Percy coughed.
Agatha narrowed her gaze. “Your very presence irritates me.”
Benedict sighed. “So it seems. I take it this is the reason for your intrusion? My offensive sex and irritating presence. Pray, if I offend you so, why don’t you simply leave?”
She snorted and stomped her heel onto Percy’s foot.
Eyes wide, Percy clenched his teeth and slowly lifted his eyes heavenward.
God does not hear our pleas my friend, believe me, I’ve tried, Benedict thought.
“You are not listening to me!” Agatha yelled.
Any louder and his head might explode. Then again, if he died he wouldn’t have to listen to Agatha screech anymore.
“Apologies, you were saying something about irritation and my offending sex?”
“You’ve made a horrible mess of everything! Do you even know what people are saying? It’s all over the gossip rags. Oh, heavens. You’ve done some terrible things, Benedict, but this truly takes the cake!” She thrust a paper in his face and lifted a handkerchief to her eyes.
Benedict took the paper and scowled.
It was Mrs. Peabody’s blasted gossip rag. Everyone read it. He would be lying if he said this was his first offense, the chit clearly had it out for him. With an exaggerated sigh, he read the words:
This should come as no shock to the rest of you. This author, however, was utterly appalled. To think! The Devil Duke ruining an innocent, and at the holiday’s first ball! Shamefully, I was beginning to think rumors of this dark duke’s demeanor were merely exaggerated. Now I believe we can all see firsthand what type of man he is.
For a man who not only ruins a woman in front of his own flesh and blood, but has the audacity to capture her and enclose her within the confines of his carriage sans chaperone, can only be one thing. A devil in disguise. This author only hopes that the matriarch of that particular family will do something before the devil does more damage. La, I have it on good authority that it would take the fires of hell licking at his heels before the duke would say yes to an engagement. In case you were keeping track, dear readers, this brings a grand total of ten ruined debutantes over the course of three years. This author shudders to think of the disgrace heaped on both families. Well, it is positively not done! If he is given more invitations for the holidays, this author may eat her quill!
—Mrs. Peabody’s Society Papers
Benedict laughed, amused that the lady would accuse him so hotly of something that was truly not even his fault.
She accosted him.
She fell on him.
She leaned in and kissed him.
Fine, so the last part was slightly exaggerated, but still, she was just as guilty. No woman should have such soft lips.
“What will you do?” Agatha asked, arms crossed.
By the look in her eyes he knew he had one of two choices. Laugh it off and kick her out of his home with a hearty farewell or make her privy to his true intentions. After all, he did have some pride to salvage. To think, a woman denying him… and a spinster no less!
“I’m so pleased you’ve asked, and to think I was just readying myself to come over to your house and tell you of my plans.”
Agatha rolled her eyes. “Which is why you were still sleeping when I knocked on the door.”
“I was merely meditating on the sweet words I would utter to my beloved.”
It was Percy’s turn to snort, and Agatha coughed behind her hand.
“Besides,” Benedict added with a stretch, “To say what happened against my door was a knock would be a terrible injustice. It was more of a bang, or something akin to a cannon exploding in my bedchamber. Now if you will be so kind as to excuse me, I have a call to make.”
With determination, he offered a smile.
He wasn’t sure if it was the smile or the speech, but his aunt promptly fainted.
Three hours later, after an ungodly amount of smelling salts, tea, and instances when he saw his aunt's ankles, she was packed into a carriage and sent home.
“Do you think she was feigning illness?” Baldwyn said beside him. Apparently Benedict hadn’t been the only one to be roused from his sleep in the early morning. In fact, Baldwyn had smartly chosen to break his fast at Benedict’s home while Agatha stormed into Benedict’s rooms to scold him.
Baldwyn had it easy, however. He simply needed to speak to the girl’s father and all would be done.
Benedict had to fight.
But he was used to winning.
And how difficult could it be to win a spinster’s heart?
Chapter Eight
Try Again
Katherine pleaded with her parents to allow her to return to the country. Instead, it seemed the more she begged, the more resolute they were in their decision.
Upset, she had taken to her rooms.
A knock sounded at her door.
Please let it be a thief coming to steal her away or perhaps knock her senseless? And then she could wake up confused as to how she was ruined the night before.
She wanted to forget any of it happened.
It was too mortifying.
Too horrible.
Everything, except the stolen kisses.
But they didn’t count. Everyone knew kisses only counted when they were given in earnest, and if Benedict was earnestly kissing her, well, the whole idea would be ludicrous.
He was merely competitive and a seducer of innocents and truly the worst sort of man. Well, he had been successful in ruining her and now the only course of action was to go about a betrothal and wait for him to inevitably end things. Then she could go back to the country and die alone.
Splendid.
Not exactly how she imagined her life would turn out.
“Enter,” she said, thoroughly disgusted with herself for entertaining dreams of the rogue's kisses.
“He’s here.”
Katherine picked a feather off of her pillow and huffed. “Who?”
“You told me not to utter his name,” her maid, Nancy, said in a tiny voice.
Shivering, Katherine sat up. “You mean he’s here?”
“The very one.”
“Well, who let him in?” she all but screamed.
“Your mother. Seems she was overwrought after the scandal sheets were delivered. Allow me to speak frank.”
“Always.”
“It is worse than you thought upon returning last night, my lady.”
“How much worse?” Katherine asked, sick with dread.
“Much.”
Well, that was descriptive and helpful. She had to think. Her eyes darted to the window.
“I fear the fall would kill you.” Nancy read her thoughts.
Drat.
Allowing herself a few minutes of silent pity, Katherine closed her eyes and sighed. Things could always be worse. She could be deathly ill, or perhaps crippled, or blind or…
She shuddered. After all, it was never a good sign when one had to think of death in comparison to her current situation.
Katherine managed to make it down the stairs, though she took great pains to methodically count each step, for in her mind, it was a reminder of how many steps she would take until she entered the inferno.