The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2) Read Free Page B

insufferable—”
    “You flatter me.”
    She rolled her eyes toward the heavens.
    “Why do you need money?” he asked, keeping easy pace with her stride. When she said nothing, he tried to come up with an answer. “Debts? You wish to buy something? You said you had no father, do you need a dowry?”
    A dowry. Ha! Grandmama had told her last week that there was no dowry. They’d slowly bled through it over the past few years while funding Lucy’s pointless Seasons.
    Lucy frowned at the pavement as she continued along the thoroughfare, which was still somewhat busy, despite the lateness of the hour. “I need to cross the street.”
    “Allow me.” He grazed his hand along her arm, as if he meant to take it, but didn’t. He must have realized it would look strange for him to escort another gentleman across the street. “There’s a break here. Let’s go now.” He gestured for her to cross. “Quickly.” His hand brushed against her lower back, sending a brisk spark of awareness up her spine. She moved faster—to elude his touch as much as to reach the opposite side of the road.
    She continued on toward Bolton Street, intending to part ways with him at the corner. When she reached the junction, she stopped and turned to face him. “I hope you won’t take offense when I don’t thank you for your escort.”
    He chuckled. “I wish you’d tell me who you are. I might like to seek you out at the next ball.”
    That would be highly unlikely. Her invitations were dwindling, though the Duchess of Kendal seemed to think she could singlehandedly elevate her and Aquilla’s statuses. However, even if Grandmama could afford another Season, Lucy wasn’t sure there’d be a reason to go to the expense. She wasn’t Marriage Mart material. She wasn’t traditionally beautiful, and she was far too brash with her speech. “Unladylike,” was how Grandmama phrased it, but not cruelly. She wished Lucy were different but understood she couldn’t change who she was—that she liked to play cards and shoot and ride and partake in any number of gentlemanly pursuits. How she longed to visit Hyde Park some morning to play bowls with Dartford and his ilk. Ah well. Once she retired to the country with Grandmama, she could do many things she couldn’t here in London. But first, she needed to be able to afford that retirement.
    Lucy straightened and gave Dartford a perfunctory nod. “I doubt you will see me again, my lord. As it should be.”
    He leaned toward her. “Does that mean you won’t be frequenting any more hells?”  
    “Good evening.” She turned and started slowly toward her Grandmama’s small house, which was the third on the right.
    After several steps, she looked back over her shoulder. He was watching her. “Do you really live on this street?” he called.
    “Yes. You’ve done your infernal duty.”
    “Not unless you promise not to repeat this activity.”
    She whirled around and glared at him, planting her fists on her hips. “As I mentioned earlier, unless you’d care to make me your countess—an offer I would likely refuse given your autocratic demeanor—mind your own business.”
    He stalked toward her. “You seem an intelligent woman, but if you continue on this path, I am clearly mistaken. It’s only a matter of time before someone else sees through your charade—and they will likely not be as much of a gentleman as I am.”
    “Then I shall take pains to improve my disguise. If you truly wanted to be helpful, you’d provide me with some assistance.”
    He gaped at her. “You want me to help you look more like a man?”
    She would appreciate that a great deal, actually, but clearly he wasn’t going to do that . Instead, she asked, “What gave me away?”
    He looked a bit surprised by her question. Then his gaze dipped over her. The perusal was slow, purposeful, as if he were collecting his thoughts. When he looked at her again, heat suffused her body, and she regretted her query.
    “It