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The Silent Duke by Michaels, Jess (22)

Enjoy an exciting excerpt from
The Duke of Nothing,
out January 2018

He was about to settle in to a perfectly dark and cozy brood when a young lady stepped out of the shadows and settled herself against the wall with her back to him.

She was slender with a mob of auburn hair piled high on her head in a mock-Grecian style. Tendrils curled from the mass, making little trails across her back that disappeared from view when she adjusted her shawl a bit higher.

She had not noticed him as of yet, it seemed, for her attention was lifted. She was raptly focused on the sky above an he followed her gaze and caught his breath. There was no moon and the sky was lit up with stars. He took a silent step closer and thought he heard her whispering beneath her breath, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

He wrinkled his brow. He had no idea what this young lady was doing, but it was evident she did not wish to be interrupted. He was about to turn and step away from her when she stopped murmuring, stiffened and then pivoted to face him.

His heart stopped beating. She was…stunning. It was the only way to describe her. With fine, delicate features and pale green eyes the color of spring leaves. Her red hair framed porcelain skin disrupted only by a fetching blush that now colored the apples of her cheeks.

“Hello,” she said.

His eyes widened further at the accent that her greeting was spoken in. American. This was the American.

“H-hello,” he repeated, taking a step toward her that he didn’t recall ordering his body to take. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She smiled and her pretty face transformed into something exquisitely beautiful. It was a rather crooked smile, with something wicked to it. She looked like she liked to laugh and it made him want to do the same.

“You didn’t,” she reassured him. “I just felt silly being caught at…well, being caught.”

He wrinkled his brow. “Yes, you were looking at the stars. But I thought I heard you talking.”

The blush on those cheeks darkened a shade and she darted her gaze away as she worried her hands against the stone veranda wall. “Oh gracious, I must seem like such a ninny to you.”

He tilted his head. “Far from it. But I am curious. Were you casting a spell or wishing on a star?”

She laughed and the sound echoed in the air like music. He found himself smiling immediately, and it wasn’t one of the forced or pretended smiles that he’d been displaying as of late. It was a simple reaction to her complicated lightness. Like she was a beacon in his darkness that he could follow.

He blinked. Was he waxing poetic? In his head? About a stranger? An American stranger, at that. The world was truly coming to an end.

“Neither of those things,” she said. “I was counting the stars.”

He blinked and slowly looked up at the thousands of blinking lights above, then back to her face. “Counting the stars?”

She nodded, as if this were a normal thing to do. All the rage, even. “I was.”

“That sounds like an endless endeavor,” he said.

She shrugged one slender shoulder and her wrap dipped a bit, revealing a bit of flesh exposed by her pretty gown. He caught his breath at the sight. That sweet spot between her neck and shoulder looked utterly…kissable.

“Endless does not equate purposeless or pointless,” she said, dragging him away from his inappropriate thoughts. “After all, how often are you forced to do something over and over that you do not like? When I count stars, it is always a joy. It reminds me there are many things bigger than myself or my silly problems.”

He pondered those words. “You are correct, of course. Much of our lives is spent in repetitive nonsense. Counting stars is as good a hobby as endless stitching, I suppose. Or playing or walking round and round in circles in a parlor.”

She smiled again. “Well, I happen to like all those silly things, as well.”

“An accomplished lady is never silly,” he said.

“What about an accomplished gentleman?” she retorted.

“I know hardly any of those,” he said and found himself laughing when she began to do the same. His laughter felt rusty, ill-used except when it was pretended lately.

“I doubt that,” she said. “You look like a young man who knows a thing or two. But may I ask why you are skulking about on a veranda while there is a party going on inside?”

“Was I skulking?” he asked.

She shrugged again. “A little.”

He sighed and turned his attention back to the brighter part of the terrace and the lights from the ballroom that lit it. “Perhaps I skulked a little. It was too hot inside and too…immediate.”

He drew back at the words that came from his own lips. He had not meant to say them. Hell, he had hardly ever allowed himself to think them.

“Too immediate,” she repeated softly and the smile faded from her lips. “I think I understand what you mean. Expectation hangs in the air.”

He nodded. “It does.”

They stood silently for a beat, she staring up at him, he unable to take his eyes from her. It was strange, because the silence felt both charged with heat but somehow comfortable, as if she expected no empty chatter.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the odd thoughts. “Well, er, expectation dictates that I return to the ball. And that will leave you to return to your counting, though I must imagine you’ve lost your place thanks to me.”

She laughed again, music in the wind and pointed upward. “Not at all. I left off right there.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “Perhaps I will see you inside then.”

She nodded. “Good evening.”

He inclined his head and slowly turned to make his way back to the terrace doors that led into the ballroom. It was only as he reached them that he realized he had never gotten the young woman’s name. Not that it really mattered. He knew who she was.

And after talking to her, suddenly the future felt a little less awful.