A Matter of Temptation Read Free Page B

sort of treachery, and the next time he intended to be prepared. He’d not be caught unawares again.
    He stretched his muscles—relishing the luxurious sensation of silk gliding over his skin—shoved his hands beneath his head, and stared at the canopy above his bed while the first fingers of dawn spilled into the bedchamber. He’d left the draperies at the windows and those around the bed pulled aside. He wanted nothing denied him. And he had such grand and self-indulgent plans for his first day and night as the Duke of Killingsworth.
    A steaming hot bath with sandalwood soap. Followed by warm towels rubbed briskly over his entire body.
    Clean clothing.
    A hot, hearty breakfast while he read the Times .
    A leisurely walk through London.
    A brisk horse ride through Hyde Park.
    A carriage ride.
    Another meal.
    Another bath.
    More clean clothes.
    And then a night of revelry to celebrate his newfound freedom.
    A bottle of the finest wine.
    A cigar. Perhaps a hand of cards.
    And then a woman. A beautiful woman. With voluptuous curves and hair like satin. He would know at last what it was to bury himself deeply inside a woman, to become lost in her warmth and softness as his body reached for release.
    Tonight he would have it all, after being deniedeverything for so long. He would take her again and again and again, until he was replete, exhausted, unable to move.
    He would do the same tomorrow night. And the next. He had a youth denied to make up for. And then he would see to his dukedom.
    But first he would see to his manhood.
    He’d known a moment of worry that his plans would unravel when he’d carried his unconscious brother to Mr. Matthews. He’d recognized the warder as one of the more brutal ones. The guard had recognized him only as the man who had paid him. Matthew’s fear had been palpable as he’d stammered his profound apologies for the prisoner’s escape, and Robert was left to wonder if it was more than coins that had made the man serve as John’s henchman. Matthews had been only too willing to accept Robert’s explanation that the prisoner had come here to cause him harm, and once again he was to be returned to Pentonville and held as before.
    A prisoner without the promise of freedom.
    Another niggling of guilt pierced the contentment of the morning, and Robert pushed it aside. He’d not be denied this day, no matter how selfish. He deserved it: the drinking, the womanizing, the sating of his long-denied body, the self-gratification. As long as John kept his mouth shut and his cap covering his face, he’d survive exceedingly well until Robert determined thebest manner in which to prove the truth of what had transpired.
    The door leading from the bathing room into the bedchamber opened, and Robert held his breath. His next test was descending upon him with rapidity. He’d once theorized that servants didn’t truly look at their masters, but kept their eyes averted or downcast. If his theory was proven correct, he would be fine. If false…well, he’d had worse things to worry over.
    The servant quietly entered the room. His valet. Or more precisely, his brother’s valet. And he suddenly realized that he was in a spot of trouble because he didn’t recognize the man. He was tall, slender, held himself well, and while he appeared to be relatively young, he was balding, the top of his head reflecting the sunlight streaming into the room.
    Robert had expected Edwards, who had once been his loyal valet, to still be serving his brother, but as he pondered the situation it made sense that Edwards had been let go. The man might have had the ability to detect subtle differences in the heir apparent, and while he might have held his doubts to himself, it was probably a chance John had been unwilling to take.
    And this unknown valet might notice subtle differences in today’s duke as compared with yesterday’s. Mainly that today’s duke hadn’t a clue as to his valet’s name.
    “Good morning, Your