How to Seduce a Duke by Kathryn Caskie Page A

“That’s him, the tall gentleman, with shoulders like a pugilist. Am I correct?”
    Lilywhite lifted his glass as well and peered into the crowd. “You’ve got the right of it, Lotharian .”
    “Well, then.” Lotharian glanced mischievously around the drawing room. “Leave Blackstone to me. Lady Upperton , you may see to the task of seeing that the viscount and Miss Royle connect again this eve.”
    Lady Upperton nodded, sending her double chins quivering.
    Lotharian held his quizzing glass before his eye. “Hmm... best make haste though, dear. See there.” He raised his chin, covertly gesturing to the center of the drawing room. “The duke seems to be introducing his brother to the lovely widow Lady Tidwell.”
    “Oh, dear me.” Lady Upperton rose up on her toes to catch a glimpse of the young woman, who was indeed laughing with Lord Wetherly .
    The duke, however, was no longer with them. With Lady Upperton’s refreshment in his hand, he was heading straight back to their party.
    Lady Upperton held her fan before her face and pulled Mary close. “Lady Tidwell is out of mourning. Oh, Mary, her connection with your young man is a poor turn of events, very poor—one we must reverse at once!”
    “Do not worry overmuch, ladies,” Lord Lotharian said with all confidence. “Miss Royle has innocence and superior breeding to recommend her. Lord Wetherly will make the right decision. Now, if you will pardon me, ladies, I have my own task to complete.” A wicked grin turned Lord Lotharian’s lips, and the ancient rake set off on a course for certain collision with the Black Duke.
     
    Rogan took one last glance at his brother before delivering Lady Upperton’s glass of wine.
    It was going well. Quinn was clearly taken with Lady Tidwell, which helped put his own mind at ease.
    He just couldn’t endure it if his brother formed a connection with Miss Royle . Why, the chit seemed to take great pleasure in irking him at every turn.
    Certainly, he had never met a more irritating woman in all his life.
    What else could he have expected from her, though? Everything he now knew of her served to bolster his belief that she was common, and penny-poor at that.
    Still, she was dangerous, for she was pretty and knew how to use her wiles.
    She belonged to the absolute worst class of woman. The sort that snared unsuspecting men by their heartstrings, then lured them to the altar solely for their money.
    Miss Royle was a guinea-grabber. Worse yet, she had Quinn fixed firmly in her sights.
    Not for long, though.
    When he had mentioned to Portia, Lady Tidwell that Quinn meant to marry and begin a family before the year was through, she was more than a little intrigued.
    Now, she would be his perfect match.
    She was from a good family, possessed a sizeable portion, was well mannered, and maintained all the best society connections. Yes, she would do quite nicely.
    He had just turned toward Lady Upperton when he felt a firm tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a well-muscled gentleman staring angrily up at him. “May I assist you, sir?” Rogan asked.
    “I would speak with you in the garden, Your Grace.” A web of red threads shot through the man’s furious eyes. His cheeks burned crimson, and his foul breath was coming fast.
    “Might I inquire what this is about, sir?”
    The gentleman huffed at that. “You know exactly what this is in reference to. Several old gentlemen saw you do it. Pointed you out to me. I demand satisfaction—in the garden.”
    Rogan looked at the two elderly gentlemen watching the exchange with amused grins on their wrinkled faces. “I am afraid, sir, that there is some confusion. Might I know what I supposedly did that so incensed you?”
    The man was practically snorting fire, but he was well enough trained to lower his voice to a near whisper. “You pinched my wife’s backside.”
    “Did I? Are you sure?” Blackstone glanced around the room. “Which is your wife? Point her out to me, will