Page 50 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Dukes? Heavens!
“Their timing has always been impeccable,” Wyatt muttered to himself. “Very well, show them in.” He looked at Fredericka. “It’s time you met my friends.”
She glanced down at her simple sprigged muslin dress. At this time of the afternoon, she had no idea what her hair looked like. Most of it could have fallen from her chignon and be hanging in loose strands all over her head. “I’d rather excuse myself and do that another time. I’m not properly attired for meeting anyone.”
“You are beautiful, Fredericka,” he said huskily. “That shade of champagne with its spruce-colored trim is becoming on you. I like the way your hair curls along the sides of your face and neck. Believe me, you have no cause to worry about how you look.”
He brushed his fingertips through her hair along the crest of her ear. His sudden touch startled her, and she reached up to smooth her hair. Their fingertips touched. Warmth sizzled through her and she quickly let her hand drop to her side.
“Our argument has heightened your cheeks and lips to a tempting shade of pink.” He continued to observe her with single-minded intensity as a hint of a smile lifted one side of his mouth. “You couldn’t look lovelier than you do right now. I don’t want you to go. Stay. I want to introduce you as my wife.”
Fredericka smiled. He wasn’t pushing her away or asking her to leave. Wonderful sensations of gratitude, acceptance, and desire twirled and spun through her. She opened her mouth to respond but realized she didn’t know what to say.“Thank you”seemed hardly right. He’d gone from quarrelsome to making her feel as if shewere a ray of sunshine in a darkened room, but more importantly, he wanted her there. For now. She knew things would change after the carriage was ready and Jane’s petition had been stopped, but for now he wanted her with him.
“The Duke of Hurstbourne and the Duke of Stonerick,” Burns announced from the doorway.
Two exceptionally built men strode into the room and immediately caught Fredericka’s attention. They wore their titles and privilege as well as they wore their expensively tailored clothing and entered the room as comfortable, seasoned guests. Like Wyatt, they were undeniably good-looking, with wide chests and shoulders, trim waists, and not an ounce of extra flesh on their tall, lithe frames. Both exuded the same masculine sensuality that was so prevalent in Wyatt.
While introductions were made, Fredericka studied the two men she’d read so much about in the scandal sheets and Society pages. There was a time she would have considered she knew a lot about them—if she still believed everything that was printed in the gossip pages.
Now she wasn’t so innocent as to be fooled by the writings of people who were making up stories for the benefit of sensationalism and to make money off half-truths and vivid imaginations.
Though the duke’s friends were handsome as the day was long, it didn’t take more than a glance to notice their personalities were as different as the color of their hair. It was written on their faces.
The Duke of Stonerick looked as curious as a stoat about her. His thick, light-brown locks swept away from his face showing a strong forehead, light-blue eyes, and chiseled features that gave him a rugged, devil-may-care expression would make any lady take a second look. TheDuke of Hurstbourne wore a solicitous smile, and was stunning to look at with classically handsome features that gave him an easygoing, yet strong, expression. She’d never seen a man with such silky-looking light-blond hair. It swept across his forehead so low the ends of it were almost touching his brownish-green eyes.
The Duke of Stonerick stepped forward and received her hand. “Your Grace. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Likewise, Your Grace,” she answered with an appropriate expression of interest. “I’ve read much about you.”
“Have no doubts about every word of it being true.”
Fredericka laughed softly. Obviously, he didn’t mind his bad reputation or half truths being written about him.
He chuckled too. “I’d like you to call me Rick, if you’d be agreeable. And you are Fredericka, I believe. A beautiful name for an even more beautiful lady. I now know why Wyatt has been keeping you to himself. You are a jewel among ladies.” He bent and politely kissed the back of her palm.
Fredericka gave him an appreciative smile. “Thank you for the compliments.”
Hurst nudged Rick out of the way and took her hand with a friendly grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Duchess. I would be pleased for you to call me Hurst.” He kissed her hand and stepped back.
“Certainly, if that’s what you would prefer,” Fredericka said to the immensely handsome and charming man.
Both dukes were more gracious than she would have expectedifshe’d expected to meet them today. Most titled men didn’t forgo their titles for many people and some not at all for anyone. It simply wasn’t an accepted rule of Society to do so. She welcomed their willingness to accept her so readily.
“Don’t be bothered by the freshness of either one of them,” Wyatt said from over her shoulder. “I’m afraid we have been friends so long that we seldom watch what we say to each or around each other anymore, and are never formal when we’re together.”
“I don’t mind at all,” she assured him.
“What’s this?” the Duke of Stonerick asked.
Fredericka looked around and saw that he had picked up her poetry from the secretary beside him.
“Nothing,” she said, feeling slightly awkward, wondering if he might have read some of her scribblings. Ordinarily she wouldn’t mind, but it was verse she’d written off the top of her head and not ready to be scrutinized by anyone. She wanted to take it from his hands but held back and remained calm. “Just idle thoughts I was writing down.”
“Blast it, Rick,” Wyatt said incredulously, as he strode toward his friend. “Are you reading her private correspondence?”
“No,” Rick defended innocently, yet continued to hold the sheets in front of him. “Shocking as it is, I do have more manners than that. Besides, it’s not a letter. I wouldn’t stoop so low as to read your wife’s personal mail. Only yours,” he mumbled as if an afterthought.
“Give me that.” Wyatt yanked the pages from him and immediately started folding them so his eyes wouldn’t be tempted to look down and scan a word or two.
