Deeper in Sin Read Free

fury. She snapped her fingers and, suddenly, footmen appeared. She pointed regally at the younger girl. “This young woman has no invitation. She is to be removed.”
    â€œI do too have an invitation.”
    â€œBribed your way inside, I presume.”
    â€œWell, what if I did?”
    â€œAngelique, my dear, do not be so hard on the young woman,” said the duke’s friend.
    But the footman approached the girl, obviously ready to toss her out.
    The girl let out a screech of fury and jumped at the older courtesan. She tore at the woman’s hair, pulling it from its pins. She pulled at Angelique’s necklace and tore it free, sending it clattering. Which got her a sudden, vicious slap. The young woman slapped back.
    â€œLadies! Ladies, please!” shouted the friend.
    The golden-haired duke had not said a word. Never had she seen a man with a more wooden expression. He looked terribly uncomfortable.
    In front of him, the two women tore at each other like lionesses fighting over a lion. The Duke of Caradon stepped forward and picked up the torn dress and the broken necklace. Then he pushed his way in between the two women. Without saying a word. A few blows rained on him by accident.
    Angelique drew back as he handed her the necklace. Her chest rose with fast breaths. Her eyes blazed. “Your Grace, I apologize.”
    The duke said nothing.
    The black-haired girl pulled her ruined skirt fabric from his hand and flashed a considering look at him. Then she burst into noisy tears and ran.
    â€œDamnation,” the duke muttered. Then he followed.
    â€œWretched girl,” Angelique snapped. “Those tears were as false as her bosom—she puts padding in her bodice.”
    If the duke’s friend was shocked, he didn’t look it. Instead, an amused smile twitched his lips. Indeed, he was handsome, but the golden-haired Duke of Caradon was the most gorgeous gentleman Sophie had ever seen.
    â€œYou played a foolish game, Angelique,” the duke’s friend stated. “He’s always the knight errant. Though I should thank you—pursuing a tearful damsel in distress will be good for him.”
    Angelique began to sputter, but then she smiled. Smugly. “I’m afraid, Your Grace, you are wrong.”
    His friend was a duke too? Sophie hadn’t expected that. And the golden-haired duke was returning.
    â€œWhere’s the girl?” his friend asked.
    The duke looked as if his cravat were squeezing him tight. “This was a mistake, Saxonby,” he muttered. “The girl flung herself on me and then, when I agreed to make her my mistress on the spot, got in a fury at me, jumped in a carriage, and galloped away.”
    He possessed a deep voice, slightly hoarse, as if it were a labor for him to speak. Perhaps that was why he’d let his friend talk instead.
    â€œViscount Willington’s carriage,” Angelique pointed out. “The girl already has a protector and obviously hoped to replace him with you. She’s a bold, ambitious little vixen. Not the type for you at all, Your Grace. But I do apologize for that scene. Her dress was torn by accident, but she came at me like a wildcat.”
    â€œAfter all, Angelique, it is not as if you are legendary for your intense passion and your even more intense temper.” The duke’s friend Saxonby grinned.
    â€œI shall endeavor to make your evening more pleasant, Your Grace.”
    â€œSure she will, Caradon.” A man standing in the crowd near them leered openly at Angelique’s figure.
    Sophie realized men had gathered around, drawn by the women’s fight. While they all looked as if they’d enjoyed it, the duke looked as if he had sat on a hedgehog—downright uncomfortable.
    â€œIt is fine, Angelique,” the blond duke said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone anywhere but my club. I hope your necklace can be repaired.”
    â€œI heard of your