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His Grace, The Duke: Chapter 58

Burke

As Rosalie came floating down the stairs, it was all Burke could do not to drop to his knees and cry out for her to marry him on the spot. That, or he would throw her over his shoulder and drag her back up those stairs to his bed, never to leave. Tom and James could relieve him when he found himself in need of water or a nap.

She looked like a goddess. A queen. An enchanted fairy princess. Her dark curls were piled artfully high on her head, with one tendril draped over her shoulder. Her dress was a thing of shimmering white beads that sparkled in the candlelight. Each movement of her legs as she descended the stairs made it blink like so many stars.

And that necklace. Eros, have pity on a poor mortal soul.

Next to him, Tom stilled. “Oh…shit,” he muttered, his hands suddenly forgetting how to put on gloves.

Burke could easily sympathize. How he was going to survive this night with this aching cockstand, he had no idea. He cleared his throat and Tom tugged his glove on.

“You still think this is a good idea?” Tom said under his breath.

Burke still had his eyes locked on Rosalie, who was now accepting a wrap from the waiting hands of her maid. “It’s the best idea we’ve ever had.”

The ride to the Theatre Royal didn’t take long. Burke was wedged in a carriage with Tom and the Swindons. Tom did an admirable job of distracting the ladies, making them twitter and laugh. It seemed, now that all thought of marriage to any of them was firmly off the table, Tom could be himself again and flirt without appearing constipated or possessed.

As soon as they arrived, Burke took the arm of the countess and led the way into the receiving hall. It was crowded with guests. All the ladies glittered in their jewels, towers of feathers in their hair. Groups stood together, laughing and talking loudly, waving hands and clinking glasses.

The countess quickly slipped off his arm, called away by a friendly face.

“How do we do this?” Tom muttered, coming to stand at his back.

“Meet us in the box,” he replied, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Make sure all is ready.”

Rosalie entered the room a few moments later, arm in arm with Blanche. She caught his eye and smiled, her dark eyes sparkling. He slipped through the crowd to stand beside her, looping her arm in with his. “If you want to follow me, Miss Harrow, I can take you up to the duke’s box.”

“We’re all the guests of the Marchioness tonight, silly,” Blanche laughed.

“There is not enough room for us all in Lady Marlborough’s box,” he replied. “The duke is graciously opening his own box for a few of us stragglers. Do go on though, Blanche. I believe Mariah is waiting at the stairs.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving Mariah an enthusiastic wave, before turning back around. “Oh, but I would hate for you to feel left out,” she said at Rosalie.

“Don’t worry about me,” she replied. “I am such a fan of opera that I may prefer to sit wedged between Mr. Burke and the Lieutenant. I can only imagine they will have little to say on the performance and will leave me to enjoy it in peace.”

Mariah twittered a laugh. “Very well then. You’re not to distract her, Mr. Burke,” she said with a warning look.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, letting Rosalie feel the slide of his hand along her arm. She stiffened losing nothing of his meaning.

Mariah darted away, and Burke crowed with victory, leading Rosalie in the opposite direction.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Rosalie murmured. “Or will I have to guess?”

As they ascended the stairs, he placed a hand on her back and leaned in. “You are still owed a punishment for your behavior last week. You wouldn’t let me take it out on James. That price has yet to be paid.”

Her lips parted in surprise.

“Running off with James, sneaking out of windows, calling yourself the other woman…You have much to answer for, little siren.”

She glanced around. “Burke, you cannot possibly mean to do something here.”

“The punishment is mine to collect when and how I see fit,” he growled in her ear. “Now, keep walking. The sooner I get you up the stairs, the sooner I can get you out of that dress.”


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