The Duke Meets His Match (The Infamous Somertons #3)(13)



Eliza sighed. “I suspect Lord Ruskin will keep my husband occupied for the remainder of the party. I suppose I should speak with Lady Ruskin. Will you come?”

Chloe wrinkled her nose. “As much as I enjoy conversing about art, I think you should go alone. I could use a cool glass of lemonade.”

Eliza nodded, and Chloe wandered to a refreshment table where glasses of lemonade awaited for thirsty guests.

“Hello there.”

Chloe turned to see a young gentleman with red hair, freckles, and light blue eyes standing behind her. He bowed gallantly. “Lord Fairchild at your service. May I fetch you refreshment, Miss…?”

She recognized him as the eldest of Viscount Fairchild’s four sons. Chloe curtsied. “Miss Chloe Somerton.”

He had straight teeth and a warm, friendly smile. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise. Lemonade would be lovely,” Chloe said.

He reached for a glass and offered it to her. Chloe took a sip and eyed him over the rim of her glass. He was not strikingly handsome, but attractive with touches of humor around his mouth and near his eyes. He was also next in line to the title, and she suspected many debutantes would be clamoring to dance with him at the Season’s upcoming balls.

“Are you interested in horticulture?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Goodness, no. I had trouble keeping alive a potted plant that was a gift for my birthday. Are you?”

He chucked. “I find your honesty refreshing. And no, I attend these events because my mother insists I should.”

“That’s kind of you to want to please your mother.”

“You haven’t met the viscountess. I act more out of fear than kindness.”

She burst out laughing, then covered her mouth in horror.

He stilled and looked at her. “You have a lovely laugh, Miss Somerton. I have a confession,” Fairchild said. “I’ve been watching you since your arrival.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh?” Was he flirting with her?

“To be truthful, other men here have as well.”

She sipped her drink. “You flatter me.”

“It’s the truth.”

Her cheeks grew warm. He was flirting with her.

The amused look suddenly left Fairchild’s eyes, and he took a step closer and touched her arm. “It would be my pleasure to escort you during the conservatory tour.”

If all went according to plan, she would be with Henry. “That won’t be possible. I promised my sister, Lady Huntingdon,” she lied.

“Perhaps I can speak with her and request—” Suddenly Fairchild looked beyond her shoulder, and a crinkle appeared between his brows.

The air seemed altered; it thickened and warmed. She stiffened and slowly turned toward the garden gate, as if she needed to gather her defenses for an anticipated blow. Her gaze connected with the Duke of Cameron’s, and despite her resolve to ignore him, her breath hitched. His face was impassive, but his eyes were stormy and fierce as they held hers.

His eyes broke contact with hers to take in Fairchild standing close to her, his hand on her arm. The duke’s expression darkened and his jaw hardened. A frisson of fearful anticipation traveled down Chloe’s spine. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the ability to breathe came back in a rush.

For the first time, she noticed Henry standing beside the duke. Henry hadn’t yet spotted her and he scanned the crowd, oblivious to the dark look radiating from the man beside him.

Gathering her senses, she set the half-full glass down on the refreshment table and turned to Lord Fairchild. “Excuse me, my lord, but my sister is summoning me.” Not waiting for his response, she clutched her skirts and hurried to where Eliza stood conversing with a group of women.

As soon as Eliza spotted Chloe’s face, she stepped away. “What is it? Has Lord Sefton arrived?”

She nodded. “Yes. Henry and the duke are here.”

“Let’s not waste time, then.” Eliza smoothed her hair and walked to where both Henry and Cameron stood. Chloe trailed behind, and both men bowed when they spotted the ladies.

Chloe turned to Henry, ignoring, with effort, the duke who seemed to tower above them. “Thank you for the flowers, my lord. They were lovely.”

Henry’s earnest brown eyes reminded Chloe of an eager puppy wanting to please. “I couldn’t decide between flowers or chocolates.”

“I do have a sweet tooth,” she said.

He pressed a hand to his chest. “A woman after my own heart. May I call on you tomorrow for a ride in the park?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

Cameron took a step forward and frowned. “You’re busy tomorrow.”

Henry looked at the duke, baffled. “I don’t recall an appointment for tomorrow.”

“I’m to show you how to handle the books for your estate, remember? You need to understand your steward’s records.”

It was clear the duke was not only taking Henry under his wing socially, but also helping him with all matters of his inherited estate after the former earl’s demise.

“Did we have that planned? Can’t we pick another time?” Henry asked.

“No.”

“I understand,” Chloe said. “Your estate matters must take precedence.”

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