The Duchess Diaries: The Bridal Pleasures Series by Jillian Hunter Page A

“Perhaps you are not entirely at fault, but my husband will not care.
This
is an insult. If I were a man, I would call you out for the damage you’ve done to her reputation.”
    Drake Boscastle deftly stepped around her. “Well, I am a man, and I don’t mind murdering him. How could you bring her here without a chaperone?”
    “I do have a chaperone,” Charlotte said quickly. “Harriet drove me here, in fact.”
    Drake stared around the room. “Then where is she? I don’t see her.”
    “I have no idea,” Charlotte said. “We were in the duke’s bedroom and we separated.”
    “In his bedroom?” Drake’s hand shot out to grabGideon’s neck cloth, but Charlotte jumped between them to intercept the attack.
    “I did ask you not to say anything,” Gideon said softly.
    “Aren’t you the generous protector?” Jane said. “Weren’t you supposed to meet your new mistress at Audrey’s tonight?”
    Devon shoved forward and pulled Charlotte out of his way. “How could you do this to me?” he demanded of Gideon.
    “I was wondering the same thing about you,” he replied.
    Devon snorted, pulling off his cloak. “Did you plan this before I spoke to you?”
    “Plan what? My self-destruction at a graduation ball?”
    “Where is Harriet?” Jane asked, staring at the two empty brandy glasses on the table. “Charlotte, why didn’t you come to me before committing this folly?”
    Gideon restrained the urge to throw everyone except Charlotte into the street and let them argue all night long. His butler, Shelby, was trying to squeeze through the room, his passage blocked, his voice rising in woeful apology.
    “I swear I tried to stop them, Your Grace. I swear I did. But they insisted it was a game, and that you wouldn’t mind.”
    “Well, I do mind,” Gideon said, looking disgruntled.
    Devon looked as if he wanted to kill him, and Gideon would have been glad for the chance to do the same to him. He knew he looked as guilty as hell. What was done was done. All the excuses in the world wouldn’t change the outcome.
    “I didn’t invite Miss Boscastle here.”
    “Did you invite Harriet?” Jane inquired archly.
    He ignored her.
    Devon shook his head in disappointment. “I asked you to flatter her with your attention for a few moments, not the entire night. And I didn’t mean this sort of flattery, as you damn well know.”
    “I didn’t start this,” Gideon said tersely, trying to use the truth as his defense. There were only two feasible solutions to satisfy honor. He’d either kill or be killed in a duel. Or…A second possibility loomed off again in the distance, which was death of a different order: He could propose marriage rather than be bullied into it. Marriage.
    To a schoolmistress. Granted, she defied the prim reserve that one associated with her profession. Granted, her hidden fire was a fascinating element he had not expected to arouse. But he hadn’t intended to enter another marriage at this point in his life.
    He cut Charlotte a concerned glance. She looked like a watercolor lady again. It didn’t matter that her appearance was deceptive. He couldn’t expose her in front of all these people by explaining the truth.
    What would her family and friends think if he announced that he’d found her exploring a drawer that held his French letters? The gossips wouldn’t care that she was looking for what was hers. Or that he was particular about where he put his rod.
    Devon’s wife, Jocelyn, had waddled into the room to put a restraining hand on his arm. The glare she sent Gideon made him feel like a great villain.
    Then he heard Devon mutter, “I shall never forgive myself for this.”
    Charlotte raised her voice, not shy or reserved at all. “That makes two of us, Devon Boscastle. It wasn’t enough for you to disgrace yourself as the Kissing Bandit
and
force poor Jocelyn to marry you. You had to poke your nose in my business and ruin
my
life as well.”
    The duke turned to Devon with a dark