The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(86)

“Afternoon, Your Grace,” Egan said cheerfully. “I was just teaching Her Grace some steps to a Nvengarian dance.”

“So Mrs. Caldwell informed me.” Alexander didn’t stir, remaining fixed in place as though he’d been nailed there.

Egan bowed to Meagan and lifted her hand. “Perhaps you’d like to take over?” he said to Alexander. “This dance is best done between man and wife.”

Meagan held her breath. She longed to feel Alexander’s hands on her waist, his hip pressed to hers. Surely he’d seethe that Egan had the temerity to attempt the lord’s and lady’s dance with Meagan. Alexander would rush to her, glare at Egan and snatch Meagan’s hand, maybe growling protectively.

Instead, Alexander made a stiff nod. “No. You carry on.”

Disappointment hit Meagan like a blow to the stomach, and on the flood of pain came anger. She wanted to storm across the room to her stone-faced husband and kick him in the shins. If Egan hadn’t been standing next to her, she would have.

Instead she swept Egan a haughty curtsey. “Thank you very much, Egan. You have been most helpful.”

Meagan held her head high and marched across the ballroom, past Alexander, and out the double doors. Alexander turned to mark her passing, and she saw a flash of fury spark in his eyes. That was all the emotion he betrayed, and Meagan knew she had to be contented with it.



* * *



Alexander became aware of Egan MacDonald at his side, grinning hugely.

“Never took you for an obtuse man, Alexander,” Egan said. “Your wife wanted to dance with you, not me, as handsome and charming as I am.”

Alexander gave him a brief, chill look. “I know.”

Egan’s brows rose. “Are you a fool? She’s a lovely lady, agog to be with you. If you’re not careful, some blade is going to snatch her up to be his bit on the side.”

“I know,” Alexander repeated, his tone hard.

“Then what ails you, man?” Egan asked, shaking his head. “Run to her. Finish the bloody dance.”

“Did you give her a copy of Adolpho’s book?” Alexander asked abruptly.

Egan stopped, his inane smile fading. “Adolpho’s book?” He looked blank a moment, then another grin spread across his face. “The Book of Seductions? You poor fool. No, ’twas not I, but I wish I’d thought of it.”

Alexander believed him. Egan’s surprise and glee was genuine.

“I am puzzled as to where she could have laid her hands on a copy,” he said. “I own one but left it in Nvengaria.”

“That is a good question,” Egan mused. “I doubt English booksellers have heard of it. It is only available in Nvengarian, is it not? How has she translated it?”

“I do not know.” Alexander felt something tighten inside him. “But I intend to find out.”



* * *



“Adolpho’s Book of Seductions?” Anastasia hid a delighted gasp behind her fan. “Her Grace has read it?”

She and Alexander stood in a supper room in the Prussian ambassador’s house. Meagan’s schedule had sent her to a ball in her honor at the Duchess of Cranshaw’s, and Alexander had come to the ambassador’s house alone. Anastasia had arrived with an Austrian count, doubtless one she was pumping for information of some kind.

“Yes. Is the question so difficult?” Alexander asked churlishly. “Did you obtain or translate a copy for her?”

“Goodness, no, Alexander.” Anastasia smiled, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “I remember when Dimitri gave me a copy after he first met me, telling me it was a book that would help improve my Nvengarian. The cheeky devil. I was quite shocked. I laugh now to think what an innocent I was.”

Alexander noticed that Anastasia spoke of Dimitri without the usual flash of pain in her eyes. There was fondness, affection, and love, but her bitter grief was absent tonight. He wondered what had happened to engender such a change.

Anastasia rapidly waved her fan in front of her face. “I thought you would be pleased that Meagan had done such a thing. She is no wilting weed and has obviously decided to embrace being a Nvengarian wife in all its facets. Congratulations are in order, dear Alexander.”

Alexander did not answer. His friends couldn’t understand what Meagan’s determined attempt at seduction might cost him—or her, and he couldn’t explain.

Part of him wondered whether some clever person, knowing Meagan was the only woman in the world who unleashed the true beast inside him, had passed her a copy of the book.

“I will feel more comfortable when I find out who gave it to her,” he said.

“The matter is simple.” Anastasia bathed him in a winsome smile. “Ask her.”

Alexander made an exasperated noise and moved off to speak to another irritating ambassador who was trying to pin him down.



* * *



Anastasia sat in front of her dressing table later that night, a silk peignoir covering her bare shoulders, her dark hair crackling as her abigail brushed it out.

Thinking of Alexander’s dilemma made her want to laugh. Bravo for Meagan for not lying down before the ruthless Alexander to let him step on her. Sephronia had handled being married to Alexander by being every inch the Grand Duchess and staying out of his way. Meagan seemed bound and determined to be his wife.