Beauty and the Duke Read Free Page B

boor beside her. If Lord Bingham ogled her any closer he’d have his face in her bosoms. But Christine, as usual, was oblivious.
    Before his thoughts could overrule his restraint, Erik forced himself to turn in his chair and look back to the dance floor. Bingham was just one of dozens Erik had met since arriving in London two days ago.
    Someone suddenly jostled his elbow, nearly spilling his champagne. Erik saved his glass as Lord Bingham plopped his large form down on the chair next to him. “How are you enjoying our little soiree, your grace?” Bingham jovially offered a glass of champagne, then frowned slightly as he noted the glass Erik already held in his hand. “Capital stuf’ for putting the life intoyou. Only the bes’ for those who know the difference between quality and mere French swill.” He winked. “Men of our means like their quality. Right-oh chap? Drink up, I say.” He tipped his glass and drank.
    Erik’s gaze moved past Bingham to where Christine had been sitting a moment before. Her chair was empty. A quick search of the crowd found her moving among the tables toward the door. He’d noted Darlington and the little blond who was to be his wife had slipped out after the awards ceremony. Christine was no doubt headed home.
    “You’re wasting your time with tha’ one,” Bingham sniffed. “Set in her ways. A cold fish. Spends most o’ her time at Sommershorn Abbey managing the education of a bunch of girls. Can’t do much else since her father passed. Doesn’t run with our crowd. Not the right experience.”
    Erik gave Bingham his full attention. For the most part people avoided Erik as if he were a case of poison ivy. They skirted around him—unless they wanted something from him. It always amused him when a person thought he knew Erik well enough to be his friend, a fact that would make some conclude he had a sense of humor.
    Bingham cleared his throat. “Pleasant enough assistant when she is volunteering here though,” he hastily added. “Indispensable. Wouldn’t know what to do without her help cataloging the exhibits. Has one here herself, someplace.”
    “Yes, I saw it. I believe it is located in the basement.”
    Bingham swallowed more champagne. “We’ve not had anyone of your stature take an interest in our organization in quite some time. You are here in London for the Season, your grace?”
    “Business only.”
    “That’s right. You’ve not participated in our London Season in…how many years?” When Erik did not reply, his grin faded and he gave a little cough. “Darlington mentioned you had an interest in fossils. You have certainly come to the right place. Are you a collector? Or a seller?”
    Adjusting his evening jacket, Erik rose. “My sister is the collector. Not I.”
    “I see.” Bingham hastily followed Erik to his feet. “Frankly, I was surprised when Darlington came to me and asked for two invitations to this gala. He said you corresponded with Lord Charles Sommers. Professor Sommers to all of us who knew him well. God bless his saintly soul wherever it may be.” He chuckled, and the champagne in his glass slopped over and splashed on the man’s waistcoat. “Most thought the man belonged in Bedlam. Soft in the head, if you know what I mean. But his book is wildly popular with this society. Do you have an interest in the existence of dragons?”
    Erik remained silent, waiting for Bingham to get to the point.
    “I only ask because Professor Sommers rarely corresponded with fossil hobbyists,” Bingham said in an undertone. “His interests tended toward the serious collector. A person would have to have something valuable in his possession to hold Sommers’s interest. Perhaps more than personal business brings you to London?”
    “Business is never personal, Bingham.” Ever . He’d learned long ago there was little he could not buy. “Now”—Eric looked toward the doorway through which Christine had just disappeared—“if you will excuse