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With swift movements, she left him on the
cold ground, alone and upset. One thing was for certain, he wasn't
going to marry the girl. He would rather jump into the Thames in
the dead of winter! Although, on second thought, jumping into the
Thames would mean he would die of a head injury, considering it was
frozen over. Perhaps he could cut out a little hole and jump into
it. Sadly, the smile on his face was entirely brought on by his
suicide plan, an unfortunate circumstance that. Was marriage truly
that ghastly to him?

The woman was a plague, a disease he could
not rid himself of! It mattered not that she was beautiful, or that
she had grown into those luscious lips and curves. She was still
the devil's own to deal with. And he would not align himself with
such a lady for the rest of his life. Imagine! Lady Katherine? A
Duchess? Married to the Devil Duke himself?

He pushed away from the ground and examined
his body for dirt and smudges. Satisfied, he cracked his neck and
walked back into the ballroom. A resounding hush fell upon the
people dancing and then the whispering commenced. It was the first
time in his existence that people had dared talk about him. Most
were too afraid to even utter his name, not that he was a rake of
any kind. No, he was merely frightening for most women to talk to.
He was dark and brooding and according to the debutantes, fiercely
handsome. Rumor was that he would most likely marry a woman and
kill her in the bedroom with all of the force of his evil
presence.

He let out a long sigh and walked in the
general direction of Lord Rawlings, but was intercepted by Lady
Katherine herself.

Innocent as the Driven Snow

"How dare you!"
Katherine
pointed a shaking finger at the duke, biting back
a curse. "I cannot marry you!"

"Finally, something we agree upon," he
countered then looked around them. Muttering a curse, he grabbed
ahold of her arm and tugged her toward the back corner of the room
where they were given more privacy. "Did you think to trick me into
marrying you? Was that it?"

Katherine burst out laughing. Banbury did not
seem pleased, his eyebrows furrowed. Looking quite offended, he
crossed his arms and scowled. "I assure you, I am quite the
catch."

"I'll just have to take your word for it, now
won't I? Regardless, you've ruined everything and now your cousin
won't even give me—"

"My cousin?" he interrupted. "What about my
cousin? Don't tell me you hold a secret tender for the Scottish
duke."

Heat flooded Katherine's cheeks.

"Oh, so
he
is the object of your
affection. I would say he was lucky, but it's painfully obvious
that luck is never on your side, nor would he be lucky to be
chained to you the rest of his days. Imagine the scars he would
receive, the bloody noses, the black eyes. Gads, it would look like
he boxed at Jackson's every day!"

"That is quite enough!" Her ivory colored
glove flashed in the candlelight as she pointed her finger at his
and poked him in the chest with her hand. "He is sweet, and kind,
and doesn't scowl. At least he knows how to smile!"

"I bloody well know how to smile." Banbury
winced.

"Were you trying just now?" she asked
sweetly.

His answer was to curse and run a gloved hand
through his dark locks. "We cannot allow this to happen. You must
cry off."

"Me?" Katherine tightened her hands into
fists, but Banbury quickly pulled her aside, shielding her from
whomever had just passed by. Quickly, he pushed her away, as if she
were diseased.

"I cannot simply cry off," she whispered, her
voice wavering with emotion. "I would be ruined! Who would want
me?"

Banbury rolled his eyes. "It isn't as if
you're the belle of the ball currently, is it? What does it matter
if you simply cry off? Tell everyone I scared you, that I barked or
growled, or simply glared and you fell to your knees in horrified
hysterics."

"Yes, because you're simply terrifying when
you're unconscious."

"Apparently it's the only way you can get me
on my back, now isn't it?" His hot breath fanned her neck as he
stepped closer. Instinctively she moved in, undeterred. "Oh believe
me, Banbury. If I wanted you on your back I could get you on your
back without any sort of violence."

What the devil was she saying? Was she
carrying on a flirtation with the Devil Duke? And to say such
things aloud! But he was so provoking!

His eyes took on a lazy look as they appeared
to darken and almost close completely. And then, he smiled. All
white teeth and dimples on either side of his face. Katherine felt
her face heat even more as her eyes widened to take in the male
beauty in front of her.

"Are you quite sure?"

"Positive." Clenching her teeth, she nearly
touched his lips when she breathed out the word. Never would she
back down from such a ridiculous man.

His amusement faded as he grabbed her arm and
pulled her flush against his body. "Then I would have to say I
agree." His lips curved into a devilish smile as they tentatively
touched hers. It was a question of a kiss, almost as if he was
shocked he was participating. And then as their breaths mingled, he
groaned and his lips pushed against hers, molded across her mouth.
Need shot through her.

This was how girls were ruined.

This was what her instructors had warned her
about.

Dark corners, virile smelling men, and the
wet heat of a scorching kiss.

Not knowing what else to do, she held on to
the lapels of his coat, but that forced her to lean completely into
him. Banbury's arms came around her, his hands slowly moved down
her back. With a gasp she prepared to scold him, but the hot
invasion of his tongue made her lose all thought. It was wicked and
delicious. He groaned and she, in purely unladylike behavior,
pushed him further into the alcove against the wall.

"I, ahem, do hope I'm not interrupting
anything," a clearly masculine voice said from behind them. With a
shriek, Katherine pulled away. Banbury was smiling from ear to ear,
his breathing ragged as his dilated eyes looked up. Cursing, he
pushed Katherine behind him.

"When did you arrive?"

Katherine lifted her eyes, her stomach
dropped at the same time. In horror, she looked into the eyes of
the same man she had minutes ago told Banbury she had set her cap
for. With a sob, she ran off, away from Devil himself and from the
man she hoped to marry.

"Classic." Baldwyn Sinclair,
Duke
of Paisley, shook his head at Benedict and burst out
laughing. "Tell me, was your plan simply to assault her in order to
win her favor or had you not fully thought through your
attack?"

Benedict cursed. "I don't know what came over
me, and she's just so blasted irritating. She struck me and then
provoked me."

"Well then." Baldwyn folded his arms across
his chest. "By all means make her cry. It seems you earned a bit of
revenge."

Benedict groaned aloud. "What the devil are
you doing here, Baldwyn? Don't tell me—"

"Agatha." They said in unison. Both as if her
name was an expletive on their lips.

"She got to you, too, I imagine?" Benedict
asked, though it was difficult to stay on topic after the feel of
Katherine's lips on his own. He hadn't meant to hurt the girl's
feelings, but she was so blasted… provoking. He'd said it aloud and
continued to think it in his head.

Baldwyn snapped his fingers. "Woolgathering
or planning to attack another virgin?"

"My apologies. You were saying?" Benedict
shook his head and began walking in the direction of the whiskey
with Paisley in tow.

Baldwyn had been raised alongside Benedict
when they were children. Agatha was Baldwyn's grandmother and
Benedict's aunt, making them cousins and, unfortunately, related to
the same horrid woman that continued to meddle in the lives of the
men in her family.

Benedict could think of only one reason why
she would summon Baldwyn all this way.

"She's going to ruin the both of us."
Benedict reached the whiskey and cursed. "Don't tell me she's
turned her matchmaking sights to you cousin…" He waited, in vain,
for Baldwyn to deny the accusations all together.

"I shall marry Lady Anastasia."

Benedict burst out laughing, sloshing his
drink within the glass and nearly spilling it onto the Persian rug.
"Truthfully? You are to marry her? Tell me, do you still have mud
stains on your person? One would think they were permanent.
Delightful creature that one. I have half a mind to cage her up
with Katherine, at least they could torture one another instead
of—" As the words came flowing out of his mouth Benedict realized
in one horror-stricken moment, just what his aunt had done.

"She's betrothed us to…"

Baldwyn swallowed all of his brandy in one
gulp. "Our enemies? Childhood nemeses? The only woman in London I
could never imagine myself sharing a bed with? Yes, perhaps Agatha
delights in having no heirs to speak of, for if I have to share a
bed with that — that hoyden, then I'm quitting."

Benedict scowled. "One cannot simply quit
marriage."

"Did I say marriage? I meant quitting the
continent."

"And your tenants will simply do without you
for the remainder of their lives?"

Baldwyn poured another brandy. At this rate
he was going to be foxed before he even had a dance, which surely
would not do. "Must you be so logical when I'm this upset? At least
try to see my plight. The girl probably still has pigtails. Do you
remember the way her bony little hands used to pull at my
coattails? She wasn't a bonny lass, and you know it. I think I may
be sick."

"Yes, well…" Benedict took the empty glass
from his cousin's hand. "Whiskey on an empty stomach will do that
to you. Now, why don't you run along and find something to soak up
all that alcohol while I have a nice friendly little chat with
Agatha about your situation. There isn't much to be done about mine
considering we were found…"

"Compromised?"

Benedict growled low in his throat. "As I
said before, to everyone who would listen that is, I was
unconscious, on the cold hard ground, with nothing save a lump on
the back of my head for my troubles. I did not seduce her!"

"Perhaps you've just gotten better at
it."

Benedict lifted a brow.

"Just a thought. Perhaps your sexual prowess
is that of such brilliance that you are able to seduce women in
your sleep."

"What a cross to bear," Benedict said dryly
not finding his cousin amusing in the least.

"Yes well, I was trying to look at the
positive in a very dreary situation. After all, the woman you have
to marry nearly killed you thrice! Not counting tonight of
course."

"Ah, yes. Thank you for the reminder. I shall
be sure to shout 'til death do us part quite proudly, knowing it
will be quite soon in seeking me out."

"Speaking of the devil," Baldwyn mumbled and
sauntered off in the other direction leaving Benedict alone in the
room. He looked up and cursed fluently before downing the rest of
his drink.

"Agatha."

"Benedict, I have just spoken with
Katherine's parents and they have denied your suit."

Odd, how such information could make one feel
elated yet offended all at once. "Whatever do you mean?"

Agatha lifted an eyebrow and took a seat on
the nearest chair. "They find the idea of you marrying their only
daughter quite offensive. In fact, they've instructed me to find
her a suitable replacement considering you've already ruined
her."

Appalled, Benedict could only stare
slack-jawed. "But that's ridiculous! I ruined her, and I should be
the one to pay for it! Granted, I wasn't necessarily awake for the
entire act, but I'm pretty sure when a woman has her skirts up past
her knees it's considered improper! What kind of parents are they?
To subject their only daughter to such ridicule. And all because
they find me offensive? Me? I'm a blasted duke!" He sliced the air
with one hand as his temper broiled and spilled over into an
outright tantrum "What in blazes is so awful about marrying
me?"

Other than the obvious.

His reputation for ruining debutantes.

His favor for strong drink and gambling.

And the rumor that he often walked around his
manor naked in order to offend his valet, which might or might not
have been true.

"That, my dear boy, was my exact question."
Agatha inspected her gloves and shrugged as if she didn't know all
the reasons a family would be less than thrilled to align
themselves with him.

Did that mean the witch was actually siding
with her nephew? Impossible!

"And?" Benedict prompted.

"It isn't so much the parents whom object as
it is the girl in question. She claims you are the most boring
creature to walk the face of the earth. She also finds your
inability to smile quite taxing."