The Duke and the Lady in Red Read Free

manipulate. She should be ashamed, but she had learned long ago that one shouldn’t be regretful about what one was forced to do in order to survive. “I don’t wish to dwell on it.”
    She took another sip of the excellent champagne, allowing her hand to tremble slightly. “I fear I need a distraction. It has been lovely visiting with you, but I should like to tour the gentlemen’s salon. As I understand it, after tonight, ladies will no longer be welcomed within its walls. I want to see what we are being denied.”
    â€œI’ll accompany you.”
    â€œSurely you have a wife somewhere who would not appreciate your attentions to me.”
    â€œNo wife. No betrothed, no paramour. I’ve no interest in attachments of a permanent nature.”
    â€œI can’t blame you there. Having had one, I now find myself feeling quite the same way.”
    He offered his arm. “Then shall we?”
    She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and was greeted with firm muscle. A man who didn’t just lie about with no purpose. Her head barely reached his shoulder. He was a towering man, large and broad. But it was more than his physical traits that made him appear powerful. She suspected if his height did not extend past her knee, he would still dominate his surroundings. He seemed to dwarf everything around him. She didn’t know if she had ever met a man who commanded such supremacy.
    As they strode—­as this man could do nothing except stride with confidence—­through the room, he acknowledged a few but was greeted with deference.
    â€œYour Grace.”
    â€œAvendale.”
    â€œDuke.”
    She’d been correct about his title. She wondered how many lesser ones he might possess, how much property. What was he worth? Based upon the excellent tailoring of his black swallowtail coat, trousers, and waistcoat, along with the jeweled pin nestled in his cravat, he was worth a princely sum.
    They arrived in a room that was much darker than any of the others she’d viewed. The walls were papered in rich burgundy and forest green. The furniture matched. A massive fireplace dominated one of several sitting areas. Glass cabinets held an assortment of spirits. Liveried footmen served amber liquid.
    She finished off her champagne and set the flute on the tray of a passing footman. The man beside her—­Avendale—­did the same. She didn’t like noticing that he seemed to belong here more than in any other place. That he was made of—­and for—­debauchery. He was comfortable with his surroundings, would flourish here as well as in the bedchamber. She was rather certain of it. Even in shadows, he would stand out, prowling toward her, conquering every aspect of the night, conquering her. She wouldn’t so much as whimper in protest.
    â€œWould you care for something darker?” he asked.
    He grinned wolfishly, and for a moment she feared he read all her thoughts. A shiver went through her before she grasped his meaning. He’d distracted her. Normally she kept her head around men, even handsome ones. Or perhaps she was giving him too much credit, had simply sipped the champagne far too quickly so that her mind had dulled for a moment.
    â€œIs it allowed?” she asked innocently.
    â€œIt is. That’s Darling’s purpose here—­to open up every manner of vice and decadence to the ladies. But wouldn’t it be far more enjoyable if it weren’t allowed?”
    He held her gaze and she was no longer certain they were discussing liquor. Things not allowed generally were more enjoyable. How did he know that was what she preferred? What she thrived on? The forbidden was always more alluring. She suspected many of the ladies would soon wonder what all the fuss had been about now that they could walk through the doors whenever they chose.
    â€œDid I hear my name taken in vain?” a deep voice asked.
    Turning to the