Page 3 of Distracting the Duke

He winced as she waved the statuette at him. “I suppose you consider this yours, don’t you?” she said.

He most certainly did. He also considered it an appalling lack of manners not to greet him as befitted his rank. Deuce take it! Perhaps not even trade. Peasant stock, mayhap?

“I beg your pardon, madam?”

“You heard me perfectly well, Your Grace. I can’t believe your family hasn’t had the decency to return this to its rightful owners.”

He couldn’t quite believe his ears. He knew the story of the Pajou, certainly. His grandfather had won it in a game of cards. Such occurrences were not the least bit uncommon—many was the time a family’s fortunes had been either ruined or elevated on the turn of a card. But to be taxed with this subject in his own private study by an invited guest was the outside of enough.

“I find your tone, Lady Tinniswood, unnecessarily brusque.”

“And I find yours, sir, insufferably arrogant,” came the retort.

His back stiffened and he took a step closer. It was now abundantly clear the priceless Pajou was in enemy hands.

But…a younger enemy than he’d first believed. Not thirty. Perhaps even late twenties. His new foe had angry eyes that glittered like Whitby jet, and a red, downturned mouth—quite the opposite of the smiling pink lips of the attractive blonde.

“What has given rise to this exceptional outburst?” he asked coldly. “Has the music not been to your taste? Is your dance card empty? If so, I’m very sorry, but it’s hardly fitting to vent your spleen on your host.”

The air positively crackled around Lady Tinniswood. “My dear sir,” she said, with infinite hauteur. “Had I wished to dance, I would have. But I did not. I’ve had enough of gentlemen, particularly those of your ilk, and came only to support my ward. I’m absolutely certain I shall refuse any future invitation which comes from Kessington House to Lawton Court.”

“Then let me assure you, I shall make none.” But recalling the blonde was apparently Lady Tinniswood’s ward, he added, “However, as I see no reason not to be on good terms with my neighbors, I trust I’m at liberty to offer my hospitality to Mr. and Mrs. Weston and Miss Soper. I shan’t take offense if you decline. But before we end this delightful interview, tell me what provoked your outburst about the figurine, and what, exactly, you were hoping to achieve?”

The statuette in question was still being held tightly in those long fingers, and since Lady Tinniswood was quite tall, it was too far above the ground for his liking. Even the best Italian Carrara marble might break if dropped on the polished parquet flooring.

“I seek to shame you, sir. Why must the crimes of the upper aristocracy be hushed up and forgotten, while those of lower status are vilified by everyone for even the smallest error?”

“So, it’s a crime that my grandfather was lucky at cards?” The second duke had very likely cheated, but Marcus was too angry to admit that now. “Your logic quite escapes me, madam. I can’t help but wonder if you came to this ball just spoiling for a fight, and I’m merely the poor unfortunate who inadvertently supplied the spark to your tinder.”

“You can hardly call yourself unfortunate when you have all this.” She spread her arms expansively, and his heart froze as he watched the precious Pajou being swung about so carelessly.

The time for talking was over. He stepped closer, until they were almost touching, and she was forced to tilt her chin to meet his eye.

“Your harboring of grudges, Lady Tinniswood, has rendered you bitter and cynical before your time. Most ladies come to balls in a joyous state of mind, not a sour one.”

That clearly struck a chord. He watched a flush steal from her neck to her face. Her skin was so pale, it looked like wine being poured into an alabaster bowl. What would she look like without that hideous turban, with her hair styled loosely about her face? Might she be considered striking?

Good Lord. Why was he even thinking about this?

“Step aside,” she almost hissed at him. “You go beyond the bounds of propriety. I wish to escape your odious company, and you’re standing in my way.”

Marcus snapped his head back. Odious? He’d never been called that before, not even by Papa at his angriest.

Enough was enough. He must take charge of the situation.

He held out a hand for the Pajou, only to find to his astonishment that Lady Tinniswood had thrust it behind her back. He reached around the other side of her, and it was held once more out of his reach.

Damn the wretched woman! This was no childish game. The Pajou was a unique and valuable work of art!

He took the only action he could think of on the spur of the moment. He clamped her firmly against his chest and prized the statuette roughly from her fingers.

Her muffled cry of outrage was eclipsed by a bellow of fury that erupted from the door of the study.

As Marcus turned around, a powerful blow knocked him backward.

And his surroundings were snuffed out by darkness.

Chapter Three