Untamed Read Free Page A

don’t know how to dance,’ she said. ‘You know that no matter how much attention you pay to me, you will never touch my sister. That is a dream. One you’d do best to give up on.’
    He started, like she’d just reached inside his trousers. ‘I beg your pardon? I have no such intentions —’
    ‘Aye, you do, sir . You dream about having her beauty to yourself in some dark corner.’
    William flushed and looked away. ‘If you weren’t the sister of Lady BenRuin, one might feel at liberty to call you unfit for company.’
    Dear Lord. ‘Was that supposed to be a cut? At least you have remembered whose wife she is. The only man who may touch her, after all, is her husband. Is that not true?’
    ‘Do stop speaking of touching! I never heard such indelicacy in my life!’
    ‘Of course you have. You have heard the rumours about my sister and the Duke, and it’s made you think of nothing else but trying for her yourself. After all, once a duke’s done with her she’ll be fair game for the mere sirs of this world, eh?’
    He turned on her, and there was nothing handsome about him now. ‘My father used to play cards with yours. It’s more than she deserves, to have old blood like me interested, and I’ll touch if I want to.’
    ‘And there it is,’ she said, wiping his spittle from her cheek with the back of her hand. ‘There’s what you really think of the ton ’s darling, hiding so close to the surface.’
    ‘I don’t. I didn’t.’ He looked suddenly unsure of what she had exposed in him.
    He probably hadn’t deserved that. Likely he dreamed of her sister, but would never be bold enough to try for her.
    ‘If it’s any consolation,’ she said, ‘the Duke won’t be touching her any more either.’
    William took a step back from her; his eyes wouldn’t meet hers.
    ‘So pleased to make your acquaintance,’ she said to his retreating back.
    Sometimes, in the very early hours of morning before she had forced herself to throw back her covers and start the day, she would discover a cold fear lodged in her chest. She was twenty-eight years old. She wondered, on those mornings, whether it might be worth accepting the hand of any man who could be persuaded to offer for her.
    Just not a man like Sir William.
    Sylvie waved at her through the crush, like she’d been waiting for William to leave, and began making her determined way over, Lou in her wake. Kit wondered if they’d been sneaking drinks behind their chaperones’ backs.
    The heavy air closed back in around her, the press of sweaty bodies, the gusts of breath, the chatter from too many mouths, the gulp and spill of drinks. She knew from experience that Lydia wouldn’t let her leave before at least three in the morning. Hours and hours of remaining upright.
    ‘We have news about the Duke,’ Sylvie said, standing much closer than necessary; this corner of the ballroom was less crowded than the rest. Lou came up beside her, closing Kit in.
    ‘Lady Marmotte has made it known —’
    ‘— all over town —’
    ‘— that she intends to have the Duke. Lord Marmotte is in a rage about it, and has the footmen bribed to keep an eye on the Duke’s every movement, should he —’
    ‘— should he dare to show his face tonight.’
    Their faces were flushed with triumph. They thought this a marvellous piece of news. Kit, who had seen one husband’s rage already, didn’t. Devil take London and all the people in it.
    ‘Also,’ Lou said, looking guiltily around, ‘just last week —’
    The steward announced the Duke of Darlington.
    Kit’s heart beat hard, once, and she fought the urge to go up on her toes for a look. She’d only ever caught glimpses of him before, always surrounded: a mincing, perfumed sort of a man. The crowds parted around the stairs and through the centre of the ballroom.
    Sylvie, who was pushed into Kit by the movement, said, ‘Do you think God might reach down and make him decide to dance with me? Lou, I can’t breathe. We