Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,5

call him by his nickname, much less sound flippant, but something about dancing with this man emboldened her.

“You are quite unique, my lady. Keep being you . . . and the right man will find you.”

They continued to dance though the duke ceased conversing with her. She supposed her talk of spectacles had bored him immensely. He had told her she was very pretty, though. Elise supposed he told every girl who made her come-out the same thing. Still, he’d sounded terribly sincere when he’d said it. If the Duke of Disrepute was this charming, she wondered how much more his friend, the Duke of Charm, could be.

When the music ceased, he led her back to the spot he’d found her. The Duke of Charm was already there and met his friend’s gaze. Elise looked up at Disrepute and saw an imperceptible shake of his head. When she looked back at Charm, he was looking at another of her friends and she knew her partner had warned him off her.

“Thank you for the dance, Kitten,” Disrepute told her. “The man who captures your heart will land a very beautiful girl, both inside and out.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it and then strolled away. Charm followed him.

Immediately, her friends began pestering her for what they’d talked about. Elise blushed and they began teasing her. Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself and went to the retiring room to escape them and their nosy questions.

Men like this wolf were dangerous. He made her want things that she shouldn’t be thinking of. She longed for his arms to gather her up and his sensual lips to touch hers. If he would have taken her outside and pressed her for a kiss, she wouldn’t have been able to deny him.

This brief experience made Elise decide she needed to play it safe. She would find a nice, boring man and live an ordinary life. She didn’t need the type of excitement and scandal that a man such as Disrepute would bring. Not that he’d ever be interested in marriage, much less with a green girl such as her.

Returning to the ballroom, her next partner approached. Lord Ruthersby was bland in looks but she found him to be quite intellectual. They wound up speaking about several topics and he signed her card again, claiming the supper dance. All throughout supper, they continued to converse. He was sweet. A bit awkward. They had much in common, though.

Elise decided this man would be the one.

Not the wolf.

Chapter Three

Windowmere, Devon—September 1814

Weston sat in the library of the Duke of Windham, a brandy in his hand and the bottle close by. He’d been dragged to Andrew’s house by George. His friend feared Lord Ivy, an imbecile who couldn’t string two intelligent sentences together, might challenge Weston to a duel.

For sleeping with Ivy’s stepmother.

It seemed comical to him because Ivy had also been sleeping with his stepmother—and the woman had apparently mentioned her preference for the Duke of Disrepute over her stepson—thus, Ivy’s irritation with Weston. He didn’t truly think the fool would issue a challenge. Weston wished George had allowed them to remain in London to find out what Ivy would have done. The choices would have been to either shoot the idiot or ignore the challenge. If he shot Ivy and only wounded him, no harm would be done. If he killed him, as Weston had a mind to do simply because the young man annoyed him to no end, a scandal would ensue—and that meant fleeing London. With Bonaparte still causing havoc throughout Europe, it would limit the scope of places to live in exile for a few years, until the matter was forgotten.

On the other hand, he could dismiss the challenge. Disregarding a challenge would be possibly an even larger scandal and would certainly seal his fate forever as the Duke of Disrepute. Weston toyed with the idea of returning to London without George and seeing how the affair played out. This house party Andrew and his new wife, Phoebe, was holding had no appeal. The Duke of Disrepute found house parties limiting and boring, being confined to one place with a set number of guests.

He took another sip of brandy and admitted to himself what was really on his mind.

George’s troubling declaration.

His longtime friend had joined Weston for the last six years in cutting a swath through society after their broken engagements. The Bad Dukes, as they were known, lived for debauchery. They indulged in every known