"Of course." He grinned. What did he care if she was ruined? He'd already planned on ruining her, ravishing her, and then leaving. That was to be her punishment for all the torture she'd put him through, and she was more than deserving. He would enjoy every single second.
She took a deep breath and cursed — quite impressively for a young lady — ending with, "You're the devil."
"So I've been told, love. So I've been told." He picked up her hand, though she tried to keep it at her side, and bestowed a kiss across her knuckles. "And always at your service should you need to make another deal with the devil." With a wink, he pulled back, chuckling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The devil is in the details
Katherine narrowed her eyes at the man. Surely he was the devil himself! The injustice of it all. By all appearances it would look — well, it would look like she was besotted with the man, and then when it would be time for them to announce their betrothal, there would be no betrothal to announce. Her parents would be livid, she would still be utterly ruined, and Benedict would get away scot free, Devil Duke reputation intact, and if anything, even more famous throughout the ton!
But worse of all, her heart dropped as her mind played the truth over and over again in her head. The Duke of Paisley would be out of reach, for even if he wasn't already betrothed to Lady Anastasia, what would he possibly want with a ruined girl?
So, it was in that moment, when she looked at the choices laid out before her, that she became selfish and impulsive. If no one was to have her, if love would never be her destiny, perhaps she could make the duke's life a living, waking, hellish nightmare. For it was his fault that this was all coming to pass.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked, grinning and leaning forward to receive a kiss, no doubt.
"Oh, because." She gave him her most coy look and blinked her eyes, resting them finally on his lips as her eyelashes fluttered. She looked back up, into his piercing gaze.
Eyes dilated, his gaze was ravenous, dark, sensual. She gulped and leaned forward. His lips met hers in a frenzy. She reciprocated, allowing herself one moment of weakness before biting his bottom lip, hoping she would draw blood.
"Damn it! What the bloody hell was that for?"
"Ruining my happiness, that's what," she spat. "It seems we have two weeks to become acquainted. Get your beauty rest, for you'll need it."
He cursed again as the carriage came to a halt in front of her house. "Oh, and Banbury?" She stepped out of the carriage and turned. "Consider yourself warned. I never back down without a fight."
"Been nearly killed four times to prove that very true statement," he muttered begrudgingly.
"Exactly. Good day, your grace." She winked and walked into the house.
Not typically one to throw any sort of tantrum, Katherine stomped up the stairs and quietly closed her bedroom door, all the while forcing her mind to forget the feel of the devil's lips as they'd caressed her own.
Why was he nicknamed the Devil Duke anyway? Granted, he leaned toward rakish tendencies and did have a slight obsession with horse racing, but didn't all fashionable young gentleman?
The way things looked tonight, the men of London were drinking whiskey as if it was going out of style and slapping one another on the back as if being a man was such a brilliant privilege that they needed to keep congratulating one another on their sex.
Katherine knew she needed to get her rest, for tomorrow would be the most trying day of all. At dawn, she had to begin courting the devil himself, and every able-minded person in London would sit back and watch the entertainments, for she would be the first woman to ever gain a proposal from the duke.
Knock, knock, knock.
Benedict lifted his pounding head, rising slowly from the warmth of his bed. The knocks began anew.
He cursed.
"I know you're in there!" the voice boomed.
His stomach rolled and clenched as a giant unseen hand seemed to squeeze his chest like a vise.
Agatha.
Well, now it was final. She was singlehandedly trying to kill him. Had she no respect for the inebriated and half dead? He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes just as the door burst open. Agatha entered with Percy, his irritated valet, in tow.
"How could you?" she screamed again affirming his earlier assumption that she was planning his demise.
"How could I, what?"
"Be such a man!"
He wasn't sure if he should be pleased or horrified that his aunt had accused him of such. He looked down to make sure at least half of his body was covered and sighed in relief that it was.
"Did you want me to be a woman?"
Percy coughed.
Agatha narrowed her gaze. "Your very presence irritates me."
Benedict sighed. "So it seems. I take it this is the reason for your intrusion? My offensive sex and irritating presence. Pray, if I offend you so, why don't you simply leave?"
She snorted and stomped her heel onto Percy's foot.
Eyes wide, Percy clenched his teeth and slowly lifted his eyes heavenward.
God does not hear our pleas my friend, believe me, I've tried, Benedict thought.
"You are not listening to me!" Agatha yelled.
Any louder and his head might explode. Then again, if he died, he wouldn't have to listen to Agatha screeching anymore.
"Apologies, you were saying something about irritation and my offending sex?"
"You've made a horrible mess of everything! Do you even know what people are saying? It's all over the gossip rags. Oh, my heavens. You've done some terrible things, Benedict, but this is truly worthy of a prize!" She thrust a paper in his face and lifted a handkerchief to her eyes.
Benedict took the paper and scowled.
It was Mrs. Peabody's blasted gossip rag. Everyone read it. He would be lying if he said this was his first offense, the chit clearly had it out for him. With an exaggerated sigh, he read the words:
This should come as no shock to the rest of you. This author, however, was utterly appalled. To think! The Devil Duke ruining an innocent, and at the holiday's first ball! Shamefully, I was beginning to think rumors of this dark duke's demeanor were merely exaggerated. Now I believe we can all see firsthand what type of man he is.
For a man who not only ruins a woman in front of his own flesh and blood, but has the audacity to capture her and enclose her within the confines of his carriage sans chaperone, can only be one thing. A devil in disguise. This author only hopes that the matriarch of that particular family will do something before the devil does more damage. La, I have it on good authority that it would take the fires of hell licking at his heels before the duke would say yes to an engagement. In case you were keeping track, dear readers, this brings a grand total of ten ruined debutantes over the course of three years. This author shudders to think of the disgrace heaped on both families. Well, it is positively not done! If he is given more invitations for the holidays, this author may eat her quill!
—Mrs. Peabody's Society Papers
Benedict laughed, amused that the lady would accuse him so hotly of something that was truly not even his fault.
She had accosted him.
She had fallen on him.
She had leaned in and kissed him.
Fine, so the last part was slightly exaggerated, but still, she was just as guilty. No woman should have such soft lips.
"What will you do?" Agatha asked, arms crossed.
By the look in her eyes he knew he had one of two choices. Laugh it off and kick her out of his home with a hearty farewell or make her privy to his true intentions. After all, he did have some pride to salvage. To think, a woman denying him… and a spinster no less!
"I'm so pleased you've asked, and to think I was just readying myself to come over to your house and tell you of my plans."
Agatha rolled her eyes. "Which is why you were still sleeping when I knocked on the door."
"I was merely meditating on the sweet words I w
ould utter to my beloved."
It was Percy's turn to snort, and Agatha coughed behind her hand.
"Besides," Benedict added with a stretch, "to say what happened against my door was a knock would be a terrible injustice. It was more of a bang, or something akin to a cannon exploding in my bedchamber. Now, if you will be so kind as to excuse me, I have a call to make."
With determination, he offered a smile.
He wasn't sure if it was the smile or the speech, but his aunt promptly fainted.
Three hours later, after an ungodly amount of smelling salts, tea, and instances when he saw his aunt's ankles, she was packed into a carriage and sent home.
"Do you think she was feigning illness?" Baldwyn said beside him. Apparently Benedict hadn't been the only one to be roused from his sleep in the early morning. In fact, Baldwyn had smartly chosen to break his fast at Benedict's home while Agatha stormed into Benedict's rooms to scold him.
Baldwyn had it easy, however. He simply needed to speak to the girl's father and all would be done.
Benedict had to fight.
But he was used to winning.
And how difficult could it be to win a spinster's heart?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Try Again
Katherine pleaded with her parents to allow her to return to the country. Instead, it seemed the more she begged, the more resolute they were in their decision.
Distressed, she had taken to her rooms.
A knock sounded at her door.
Please let it be a thief coming to steal her away or perhaps knock her senseless? And then she could wake up confused as to how she had become ruined the night before.
She wanted to forget any of it had happened.
It was too mortifying.
Too horrible.
Everything, except the stolen kisses.
But they didn't count. Everyone knew kisses only counted when they were given in earnest, and if Benedict was earnestly kissing her, well, the whole idea would be ludicrous.
He was merely competitive and a seducer of innocents and truly the worst sort of man. Well, he had been successful in ruining her, and now the only course of action was to go about a betrothal and wait for him to inevitably end things. Then she could go back to the country and die alone.
Splendid.
Not exactly how she had imagined her life would turn out.
Another knock came, this one a bit more insistent.
"Enter," she said, thoroughly disgusted with herself for entertaining dreams of the rogue's kisses.
"He's here," said her maid Nancy in a tiny voice.
Katherine picked a feather off of her pillow and huffed. "Who?"
"You told me not to utter his name," whispered Nancy.
Shivering, Katherine sat up. "You mean he's here?"
"The very one."
"Well, who let him in?" she all but screamed.
"Your mother. Seems she was overwrought after the scandal sheets were delivered. Allow me to speak frankly?"
"Always."
"It is worse than you thought upon your return last night, my lady."
"How much worse?" Katherine asked, sick with dread.
Nancy drew a deep breath,"Much."
Well, that was descriptive and helpful. She had to think. Her eyes darted to the window.
"I fear the fall would kill you." Nancy read her thoughts.
Drat.
Allowing herself a few minutes of silent pity, Katherine closed her eyes and sighed. Things could always be worse. She could be deathly ill, or perhaps crippled, or blind, or…
She shuddered. After all, it was never a good sign when one had to think of death in comparison to her current situation.
Katherine managed to make it down the stairs, though she took great pains to methodically count each step, for in her mind, it was a reminder of how many steps she would take until she entered the inferno.
How was it, she wondered, that God allowed such a man to live?
Upon entering the room, she was given her answer.
For like Lucifer himself, the man was too beautiful to kill.
Curse him.
"Ah, my dear, there you are!" Her father embraced her and patted her on the head. But Katherine's eyes never left the duke's.
"Your grace." She curtsied quickly and walked behind the sofa to put distance between them. Merciful heavens, why weren't there any windows open?
"If I may be so bold, you look extravagant this morning, my lady." Benedict gave her a stare that made her heart flutter in all the wrong places. Treacherous body! Perhaps she should have taken her luck with the fall out of the window.
"You may not be so bold," Katherine clipped. "Especially when you freely give such compliments without as much as smiling."
"Apologies." He grimaced, though to be fair it was probably the closest to a smile she was going to get.
"Yes, well, as long as it doesn't happen again."
"Katherine!" her mother scolded. "After everything that has transpired, do you not think you should show a little more favor to the duke? After all, as of an hour ago, you are officially engaged."
Suddenly glad she was leaning on the settee, Katherine sputtered, "S-surely not!"
Benedict's eyes shimmered with merriment as he narrowed his gaze and approached her. "But, my dear, you seemed so much more keen on the idea last night."
Fists planted firmly at her sides, it took every ounce of strength not to lash out at the man. He wanted this marriage less than she did. What the devil was he up to? What happened to the two weeks' time in which she had to court him, and he was going to cry off like the fool he was?
"Then perhaps you should refresh my memory, for I do not remember hearing any sort of proposal from your lips."
"No," he leaned in to whisper in her ear. Why weren't her parents doing anything? She looked from left to right. Drat, they had abandoned her, and the door was closed. Well, there was no way out of this one. She would just have to fight.
She pushed against him; he grasped her clenched hands. "So you want me to refresh your memory, do you?" His breath tickled her ear.
"If you touch me, I'll scream."
"Not the first time a woman's felt the need to do that in my presence, I assure you. Besides, with my certain skill set, your mother will simply blush profusely all the while fanning herself, and your father would be more likely to pat me on the back than shoot me."
"How can you be so sure of yourself?"
"Because." A smug look crossed his chiseled face. "I promised to fix everything."
Interesting that he would do anything so noble. "Just what do you intend to fix?"
"First, I'm going to fix this business about ruining you. Second, I'm going to pretend to be infatuated, though it won't be terribly hard considering you kiss like a courtesan. And third? Third, I'm going to get to the bottom of this business with my aunt trying to pair us up."
Katherine burst out laughing. Oh, the poor deluded man. "Your aunt was doing nothing of the sort, you arrogant beast!"
"Clearly, you've hit your head." Benedict stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. "She told me I was to be married, and mentioned you'd…"
Suddenly his face went very white.
"Mentioned what? Our names in the same sentence? Believe me, your aunt would never align us. She had much higher aspirations for me."
Benedict grabbed her shoulders turning her ever so slightly closer to his body. "Explain."
"She penned a note about the Winter's Festivities and mentioned to my parents how eager she was for me to meet the Duke of Paisley."
"Paisley? But he's to be with…"
While he was making calculations, she stepped back out of his reach. The man was too handsome by half, and it seemed near impossible to think in his presence. It was why she was always so clumsy around him. Paisley had always been kind to her as a child, and Benedict, well, he brooded and girls swooned.
At least now when he brooded, they guard
ed their virtue with fans.
"Look at it this way, your grace. It seems your aunt deemed Paisley good enough to have a choice between me and Lady Anastasia. I'm sorry all I have is the information given me, but I do not believe she was trying to trap you, at least not with me."
"Why not with you?" he roared.
Why the devil was he allowed to be offended?
Why not, indeed. "Because I'm a Kerrington, and we do not associate with rakes."
"You're a spinster."
"I'm a woman."
"I think we've established that at least four times."
"The same amount of times I've accosted you. Interesting." Katherine moved to the door, but his hand slammed across the knob.
"Am I that blackened? Tell me you didn't dream of my kiss, don't want my hands on your body. Tell me you don't desire me, and I'll restore your reputation and cry off, forgetting this whole business."
Her body screamed for her to give in to his touch, his masculine scent of soap and tobacco, the gleam in his eyes that promised wicked pleasure.
But as soon as she allowed herself the image of what it would be like to be in his arms, her mind conjured up Paisley. If there was a chance, however slight, that she could be with him…
She cleared her throat. "The only thing I feel for you is revulsion, and that is the truth."
He blinked at her before stepping back, and looked again at her face as if confused. Without another word, he opened the door and took a deep breath, giving her one final glance. It didn't seem possible, but his eyes held pain.
Perhaps the man had feelings after all.
CHAPTER NINE
Impossible Suddenly Quite Possible
Benedict walked to his carriage in silence.
He couldn't find the words to say anything, not even "Whites," which was exactly where he wanted to go, but truthfully if his footman suddenly had an inkling to go to the moon, Benedict would have been more than willing.
Anything to get rid of this ridiculous itch on his chest.
Well, perhaps it wasn't on his chest.
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