Page 31 of How to Capture a Duke

“Perhaps you like the challenge, just like our brother liked the thrill of the race. Think of the duke as a challenge.”

Olivia’s voice grated sharply. “My marriage is different.”

“He is a man. They all have certain needs.”

Olivia felt her face growing hot. “I’m hardly experienced.”

“You are a woman. All you need to do is remind him of that fact.”

“I cannot.”

Ellie hesitated then tilted her chin. “You should try. I have never seen a lonelier person.”

If the duke was lonely, it was by choice. He had the influence of a dukedom. He could surround himself with people. Hold balls and parties. Garden soirees.

But could he?

His speech impediment was debilitating. She imagined herself struggling to talk. How would she go about it? The beau monde was not kind, not accepting, and had been known to shun a lady for the slightest scandal. How would they treat the Duke of Keswick?

“You think he needs saving?” Olivia asked in a dull and troubled voice.

“Only you can say. But if your husband needs aid, you are the type of lady to provide it.”

…

“A word before we leave, Your Grace,” Lady Vere said.

Your Grace.

The title was not delivered with deference or respect or even cordially, but more of a demand.

Tristan turned to face Lady Vere, his wife’s sister. She’d appeared out of the shadows to corner him in an isolated alcove as Gordon was gathering the guests’ belongings before they departed. He didn’t speak, merely waited for her to express what he assumed by her expression and rigid posture was displeasure.

“My sister and I are close,” she said.

He remained silent.

“She told me everything, but you should be aware that our brother, Lord Castleton, and my husband, Lord Vere, do not know the truth. I see no need to enlighten them yet.”

Yet.

The inflection in her voice was unmistakable. For a man who struggled to speak, he was keen to the slightest change in voice and tone.

“If they knew,” she continued, “the earl and marquess would take action.”

“Perhaps you should say what you t…t-ruly mean,” Tristan said.

“Perhaps you are right.” She took a step forward, and he was struck by the similarities between the sisters. Not in coloring, per se. Lady Vere had red hair, not golden, but the stubborn tilt of her chin, the flash of impulsiveness in her eyes, reminded him of Olivia.

“If I learn of any harm or misery befalling my sister, then it is not Castleton or Vere you should be wary of.” She closed the gap between them, and for a brief heartbeat he thought she meant to slap him, but then she kissed him on the cheek.

He blinked once then met her vivid blue eyes as she smiled. “Welcome to the family.”

Chapter Eleven

A cacophony of noise drew Tristan out of his bedchamber.

For God’s sake, what now? He knew who was responsible before he even set foot out of his room.