The Duke's Gamble Read Free Page B

land, yet he could offer her nothing. For he had been engaged. When his betrothed succumbed to consumption two years ago, he had to wait for the mourning period to pass. By then, Arabella’s mother was ill, and he knew she would not leave her parent. When her mother passed, he briefly wondered if fate was conspiring against him. So he watched as Melton’s debts mounted and his estate declined; gritted his teeth and forced himself not to act even as his man of business, whom he had sent to gather information about Arabella, sent reports of her dire financial state. Castor’s admiration of her grew as he learnt of her resilience and the many efforts she made to support the small household that was left. And when her mourning period was finally over, he struck.
    Now she was his. She stood before him, trembling slightly, her eyes dazed, her lips red and swollen from his kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hard that he could feel the blood pulsing in his aching cock. He had to clench his hands to stop himself from reaching out for her. The desire she had unleashed had been unexpected, and all the more devastating because of it. She was a virgin, yet he had been a hair’s breadth away from lowering her onto the ground and taking his pleasure within her. The thought made his cock jerk and he swore again. Enough, you undisciplined fool.
    His frustration made his words sound harsher than he intended. “Come.” He did not remain to see her expression.  

    Upstairs, the door to her bedchamber was already ajar, and upon their approach, a number of footmen came filing out. Castor was relieved to see his housekeeper follow after them. Her brow was furrowed and she appeared preoccupied but when she saw him, she came to an abrupt stop.
    “Your Grace!”
    “Mrs Robbins, this is Lady Arabella. Lady Arabella, my housekeeper Mrs Robbins.” He provided no other explanation, and he saw Arabella blush. She was clearly embarrassed at what his housekeeper must think of her.  
    “Mrs Robbins,” she said, inclining her head as the older woman curtsied. She looked surprised when his housekeeper gave her a beaming smile.
    “Lady Arabella. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. Now, your bedchamber is ready, and so is your bath. His Grace thought you would be tired after your journey, so a tray will be brought up shortly. Will you be needing any assistance?”
    “No, I will assist her,” interjected Castor. Arabella gasped but to her credit, she said nothing. “Thank you, Mrs Robbins. We will ring if we require anything further.”
    Mrs Robbins nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”
    He gestured for Arabella to precede him, watching closely as she walked into the room. She looked around, her eyes widening, and he was suddenly glad that he had had the room redecorated for her. “Is the bedchamber to your liking?”
    Her eyes flew up to his. “Yes, thank you.” She pointed to a door. “Where does that lead to?”
    “My rooms.” Castor watched as she paled.  
    “Y-your bedchamber? But do you not reside in the main bedchamber?”
    “I do. This is the Duchess of Avalon’s rooms.” When she remained silent, he continued. “I thought it more efficient to have you in the bedchamber next to mine.”  
    Arabella’s eyelids fluttered, and her lips parted, but it was another moment before she spoke. “What … are your intentions towards me, Your Grace?” she asked softly. She was trembling but she lifted her chin, her clear grey eyes meeting his.  
    Castor experienced an odd feeling in the vicinity of his chest. Admiration, he thought, unwilling to think that it could be tenderness. He walked up to her, close enough to touch her if he chose to. He saw her draw in a breath. “My intentions, Lady Arabella? I’m afraid my intentions are of the most dishonourable kind.”
    She exhaled a shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping. Yet she continued to hold his gaze, and his admiration of her grew. “I see.” Her voice