The Duke's Indiscretion Read Free Page B

of a female’s touch, including a small, emerald-green velveteen settee leaning against one floral papered wall, and several dozen roses of every possible color, displayed in numerous crystal vases placed on every flat surface he could see. Apparently he wasn’t Lottie’s only gentleman admirer, he thought, amused and a little irked by the revelation.
    He glanced back to the girl, who continued to stare at him, apparently stumped. In a fair but commanding voice, he stated, “Please excuse us, won’t you?”
    The girl blinked quickly, swallowing. “I—but I need to see to her needs.”
    Colin slowly sauntered toward her. “ I’ll see to her needs this night.”
    â€œAnd just what needs might those be, your grace?”
    Caught off guard, Colin pivoted quickly around to face the exquisite stature and husky, sensual voice of the great Lottie English, who now stood in the opened doorway, resting her shoulder against the frame, arms interlocked across her chest, forgoing a curtsy as she gazed at him curiously.
    He felt his skin prickle with gooseflesh, his face flush beneath the tightness of his collar, and he clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from shaking.
    â€œMiss English,” he acknowledged, his tone purposely low and controlled, “at long last we meet.”
    The great soprano watched him closely for a few long, awkward seconds. Then she straightened and stepped inside the dressing room with great effort due to the unusually wide hoops of her costume. “You may leave, Lucy Beth. I’ll handle him.”
    Handle me? She didn’t seem at all pleased by his unannounced and unexpected interruption, and the coolness in her manner took him aback, if only just a little.
    Still a bit confused, the young lady’s maid nevertheless did as ordered, curtsying twice. “Ma’am. Your grace.” And then she scurried out the door like a rabbit on the run, closing it behind her with a thud.
    Colin hardly noticed her departure as he held the candid gaze of his fantasy, standing before him for the first time. She looked positively radiant tonight, and more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. She wore a period gown of luxurious white and aqua satin, cut low across her breasts, and obviously a corset that lifted them to heights of sheer glory. Her wide eyes, a magnificent blue, were outlined in thick kohl to enhance their color and boldness on the stage, her perfectly shaped face covered in heavy white cream and dusted with powder that matched her high wig, now glittering from the golden ribbons winding through it that reflected the lamplight.
    â€œYou’re staring,” she remarked as she suddenly whisked past him toward her dressing table, sitting in the small, padded chair as gracefully as possible with massive hoops, pausing to consider her image in the glass.
    He hadn’t realized he was doing that exactly, but he wouldn’t deny it. “You’re a vision,” he admitted soberly, moving his large form very slowly in her direction, watching with fascination as she began to brush more powder on her cheeks.
    â€œWhy are you here, your grace? Certainly you’ve got better things to do with your time than interrupt a performance.”
    â€œHow do you know who I am?” he asked as he concentrated on his steady breathing so as not to sound totally bewitched.
    One side of her painted red lips tilted up coyly as she glanced at him through the mirror. “I think everyone knows who you are.”
    â€œA fair reply,” he drawled, his own sly grin etchedinto his features. “But I’m more concerned with you and what you know about me.”
    â€œAre you,” she said rather than asked. Without looking at him, she added, “I’ve been very much aware of you for a long time now.”
    She would never know how greatly those few words encouraged him.
    She sighed and lowered her powder brush to open a tiny