For nearly a year, Tessa had promoted the match between Anne Mortland and Lord Broughton. More than once, Tessa had feared all would come to naught, but true love and a dusting of luck had culminated in this fairy tale marriage.
Tessa glanced at Lord Broughton. “You both look well, my lord.”
Broughton gazed at his bride with adoration. “I am the happiest of men.”
Tessa’s heart contracted with a yearning for something she could never have.
Anne clasped her arm. “Tessa, look quickly. You do not want to miss seeing Jane dance.”
Tessa lifted up on her toes to see past the crowd. She caught a glimpse of her new companion, Jane Powell, but the fast approach of two fashionable and handsome gentlemen diverted her attention. As they neared, her heart thudded. She recognized the taller man with tousled black hair. It was the Duke of Shelbourne.
She turned round, hoping he’d not seen her. To her mortification, Shelbourne and the other gentleman approached Lord Broughton.
“Shelbourne, Hawk, this is an unexpected pleasure,” Broughton said, rubbing his hands.
Tessa gazed up at the chandelier, wishing she could melt like the wax oozing from the candles. When she’d run away, he’d probably thought she wanted him to chase her. Belatedly, she realized her behavior only made her look guilty and a little foolish. She planted a serene smile on her face as Lord Broughton introduced her to the duke and Lord Hawkfield. Then she curtseyed and rose to find Shelbourne gazing at her. In the light of the chandelier, she could see his eyes were marine blue and fringed by thick black lashes.
“Miss Mansfield and my wife are friends,” Lord Broughton said. “She is the one responsible for our happy union.”
Lord Hawkfield raised his brows in an exaggerated fashion. “I say, a matchmaker? If only I had known of your skills when my sisters were single, Miss Mansfield. You might have saved me the trouble of finding them husbands.”
His mocking tone vexed her. She’d encountered plenty of his kind before, always quick to ridicule her avocation. “I had no idea I had a competitor. Or do you only make matches for relatives?”
Before Lord Hawkfield could reply, the duke cut in. “His self-proclaimed talent is highly overrated.”
She arched her brows. “Should I be relieved?”
“He never stood a chance against you.”
His distinctive baritone voice sent an exquisite shiver along her arms. She mentally shook herself. He’s a rake, he’s a rake, he’s a rake.
The music ended. Lord Hawkfield excused himself and disappeared into the crowd. The duke glanced at her, and then he closed the distance between them.
She looked at him warily. Could he not see she wished him to leave her in peace?
“I apologize for detaining you so long earlier,” he said. “Without a proper introduction, I fear you might have taken offense.”
He’d apologized in a gentlemanly manner, even though she was equally at fault, perhaps more so, since she’d done most of the talking. “No apology is necessary. The circumstances were unusual.”
He inclined his head. Though he did not smile, there was a natural curve to his full lips. His was not the pretty face of a dandy, however. Oh, no, not at all. His thick brows, angular cheekbones, and square jaw were all male. Little wonder women reportedly swooned at his perfection. No, not quite perfect, she thought, detecting a faint shadow along his jaw and above his full upper lip. His valet probably had to shave him twice a day. Her skin prickled at this evidence of the duke’s masculinity.
“There is something I wish to ask you.” His voice rumbled, a sound as rich and irresistible as a cup of chocolate.
Her heart thumped at the low, seductive notes in his voice. She’d thought herself unsusceptible to such tricks, but evidently her traitorous body was not.
“May I call upon you tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.
“Your Grace, if this concerns my fan, I beg you to forget the matter.” There, that should settle his concern once and for all.
“It is not about the fan,” he said. “I have appointments early in the afternoon. May I call at four o’clock?”
She regarded him with suspicion. “Why not tell me now?”
“I prefer to discuss it in private, if you are amenable.”
In private? Did he mean to make her a dishonorable proposal? Then her common sense prevailed. A handsome rake like him would have no interest in a plump spinster.
His mouth curved in the merest of smiles. “You hesitate. I can hardly blame you after I discomposed you earlier.”
She lifted her chin. “I was not discomposed.” What a bouncer. She’d fled as if the engraving on his card read His Grace, the Duke of Devilbourne.
“I will of course abide by your decision.” Then he gazed into her eyes with such intensity, she stilled like a rabbit in the woods. He drew her in, mesmerizing her with his arresting blue eyes. She felt the pull of his will like a swift current. And everything inside her said yes. “Very well,” she said breathlessly.
“Thank you. Until tomorrow.” He sketched a formal bow and walked away.
She let out her pent-up breath. Good God, he’d seduced her into agreeing.
Anne approached, using her fan to shield her voice. “What were you and the duke discussing?”
Tessa thought it best not to reveal his intended visit until she knew his purpose. “Nothing of consequence.” But he wanted something from her. She suppressed a shiver.
“He spoke to you at length,” Anne said. “You must tell me what he said.”
“You make too much of the matter.” Why had she let him turn her head?
“He looked at you like a starving wolf. Stay away from him,” Anne said. “He is well-respected for his politics, but even Geoffrey admitted the duke has a notorious reputation with women. He probably has one hundred notches in his bedpost.”
Tessa scoffed. “I’m sure he has no interest in carving one for an aging spinster like me.”
“You are only six and twenty,” Anne said. “Why must you always demean your charms?”
She ignored her friend’s question. “Do not worry. I am in no danger of falling for a rake’s wiles.” Even if he’d persuaded her to let him call tomorrow, and she’d accepted against her better judgment.
Anne drew closer. “He has a reputation as a legendary lover. Women throw themselves in his path. I heard he can persuade a woman to do his bidding with his eyes.”
Tessa gulped, knowing it was true.
Anne surveyed the crowd and grabbed Tessa’s arm. “Look, there he is now by the hearth. Do you see that woman with him? That is Lady Endicott, a formerly respectable widow—until she met Shelbourne.”
Tessa glanced in that direction. A tall, raven-haired beauty with jade feathers in her bandeau slid her finger along Shelbourne’s lapel. Then the widow leaned against him and whispered in his ear. He turned his head and flicked her earbob.
Tessa gasped. Stars above. She’d invited that shameless rake to her drawing room.
His teeth flashed in a roguish grin. Then he winked at the lady and strode off.
“How could he engage in such brazen flirtation when his sister is present?” Anne said, her voice outraged.
Tessa swerved her gaze to Anne. “His sister?”
“Lady Julianne,” Anne said. “She is dancing with Lord Holbrook.”
The dark-haired young woman laughed as she skipped past her partner. Her complexion glowed with the radiance of youth, and her gold-netted gown set off her slender figure to perfection. A sliver of envy lodged in Tessa’s throat. Long ago, she’d missed her own opportunity to have a season. Most of the time, she refused to dwell on the past, but once in a while, regret shadowed her heart.
Anne regarded Tessa. “Lady Julianne is purported to have declined more than a dozen marriage proposals since her come-out three years ago.”
“She sounds very particular.”
“Perhaps it is her brother who is particular,” Anne said. “Some s
ay the duke believes no man is good enough for his sister.”
Tessa stilled. Did he mean to ask her to make a match for his sister tomorrow? No, surely he would rely on his mother’s advice. Why then had he insisted on calling?
Also by Vicky Dreiling
How to Marry a Duke
How to Seduce a Scoundrel
How to Ravish a Rake
Praise for Vicky Dreiling’s Novels
“Dreiling secures her reputation as a writer of charming, matchmaking romances with engaging characters. Though her plotlines are classic, her cast of quirky, unconventional characters sets her stories apart. Fans of marriage-of-convenience love stories have a treat.”
—RT Book Reviews on How to Ravish a Rake
“Regency matchmaking, rakes, rogues, innocence and scandal: oh what fun! Dreiling knows how to combine these ingredients into a delightfully delicious, wickedly witty slice of reading pleasure.”
—RT Book Reviews on How to Seduce a Scoundrel
“In her lively debut novel, Vicky Dreiling has penned a fresh, engaging take on Regency matchmaking that brims with clever wit and repartee.”
—Nicole Jordan, New York Times bestselling author on How to Marry a Duke
“A tale chock full of warmth, wit and tenderness.”
—Samantha James, New York Times bestselling author on How to Marry a Duke
“A terrific romp of a read!… Vicky is a bright new voice in romance.”
—Sarah MacLean, New York Times bestselling author on How to Marry a Duke
“Dreiling’s Regency romance debut is, in a word, enchanting… How can Tristan honorably back away from his public courtship? And how can Tessa’s reputation in high society survive? Dreiling not only solves the dilemma; she also makes readers care about the delightful couple through their witty repartee and her expert storytelling.”
—Booklist (Starred Review)
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SEVEN NIGHTS OF ECSTASY
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Tristan, the Duke of Shelbourne, is a man with a mission: find a wife he can tolerate as long as they both shall live. Love is not necessary—nor desired. But how to choose among a dizzying array of wealthy-yet-witless candidates? Hire London’s infamously prim and proper matchmaker. Then pretend she’s not the most captivating woman he’s ever met…
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Every honorable rake knows that friends’ sisters are forbidden. But suddenly Julianne has a spark of mischief in her eyes that Hawk can’t resist. Try as he might to push her away, he spends his days listening for her laughter and his nights dreaming of kissing her senseless. He’s always avoided innocents and their marriage-minded mothers, but has the man least likely to wed finally met his match?
“This was an enchanting tale that had me grinning from ear to ear. The chemistry between Marc and Julianne was flammable and only needed a spark to set it off.”
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SCANDALOUS DESIRES…
Amy Hardwick has one last Season to shake off her wallflower image and make a love match. If she can’t, she’ll set aside her dreams of romance and return home to a suitor who can provide security—if little else. What she doesn’t count on is the inappropriate—and irresistible—attention lavished on her in a darkened library by rake extrao
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“To be nominated for a RITA once, is quite the honor… twice, is crazy amazing… but three times in one year? That should tell you that if you are not reading this author already, then you should be, because if you aren’t, you are really missing out!!”
—Seductive Musings
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Contents
Cover Image
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
About the Author
A Preview of What a Wicked Earl Wants
A Preview of How to Marry a Duke
Also by Vicky Dreiling
Praise for Vicky Dreiling’s Novels
Newsletters
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
A Season for Sin Page 11
