The Duke Heist (The Wild Wynchesters #1) - Erica Ridley Page 0,45

the slightest flush of her skin beneath her wrinkled-old-lady cosmetics.

“Oh dear, I have to go.” Philippa made an aggrieved expression. “My mother just looked this way. Will you both be at the next reading circle?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Chloe promised. “I’ll even leave Tiglet at home.”

Philippa’s eyes sparkled. “Please don’t. He’s the only reason you’re invited.”

Chloe grinned back at her. “Warn your mother: Tiglet has siblings.”

“Let it be a surprise.” Philippa winked and hurried off into the crowd.

“I like her,” Chloe murmured.

Tommy cleared her throat. “Me too.”

“She’s the best of this crowd by far.” Then again, Chloe supposed she didn’t know anyone else in the beau monde well enough to judge.

Her eyes searched the room. As a child, she had wondered if her birth family shared her features. Perhaps they were also overlooked, wherever they were. Invisible to everyone’s eyes but hers. They would recognize each other at once, according to the fantasy, and thus would fall into each other’s arms with smiles and tears.

None of that had ever happened. Chloe was as out of place in society as she was in a rookery.

After Bean, her hope gradually turned to fear. She adored her new life. She was loved. The last thing she wanted was to stand out and risk having it all ripped away from her. Chloe’s parents hadn’t wanted her back then, and she did not want them now.

Being recognized would be a nightmare.

“Ah, here they are.”

Startled, she glanced up to find the Duke of Faircliffe striding toward her in triumph, as if it had been a struggle to locate her and her sister hovering by themselves against the parlor wall.

He stood next to a handsome gentleman with exquisite tailoring and friendly gray eyes.

“Mrs. Wynchester, Miss Wynchester, may I present the Earl of Southerby? He is a rascal, but not half-bad at a country-dance. Southerby, if you spy Miss Wynchester with a basket, back away slowly. There might be a tiger inside.”

Lord Southerby bowed. “How intriguing. I find tigers to be exhilarating animals.”

Chloe curtsied in reply. “Why, that’s just how I feel about rascals.”

Faircliffe suddenly looked as if he wished he hadn’t provided an introduction. His teeth were clenched, his eyes flashing, his muscles bunching alarmingly beneath his elegant jacket.

She tried to tamp down a strange new thrill in response. He was jealous. He did not want to be, but he was. And because of the rules they had set, he was forced to introduce her to eligible gentlemen who were not already promised to another.

Within an hour Faircliffe had presented her and Tommy to all of the other guests at the party.

Sometimes more than once.

Chloe was used to this reaction. Or non-reaction. She didn’t stick in people’s heads. They saw her, at least for the brief exchange of words during which she was right in front of their faces, but as soon as she stepped away, it was as though she tugged her memory from their minds in the process.

Faircliffe was not having it at all.

“Wynchester,” he repeated forcefully to the Marquess of Rosbotham. “As you may recall from my introduction less than ten minutes ago.”

Chloe kept her brittle smile in place. Even if someone didn’t forget her naturally, they did so purposefully once they learned her name. That was, until recently. She peered up at Faircliffe. It was heady to have someone as important as a duke outraged on her behalf.

Lady Ainsworth chose that moment to welcome her guests into the formal dining room.

As he had predicted, Faircliffe sat too far down the long table for them to overhear snippets of each other’s conversation, much less speak to one another.

As Chloe had both hoped and feared, he was still within sight.

She could not touch the contours of his lips, the hard lines of his jaw, but she knew how they felt, could not rid the memory from her mind.

Unfortunately, her imagination was as close as she could get. He was seated next to Philippa, with whom he intended to share meals for ever after. The unwanted reminder ruined what was left of Chloe’s appetite. The wise thing to do was to keep her eyes on her plate. Nothing good could come of watching Faircliffe and Philippa in intimate conversation.

Chloe should definitely not spend the evening darting hungry glances toward the handsome duke.

Especially when she kept catching him gazing back at her.

Shivers of awareness tickled up and down her skin. Nobody knew he had kissed her. Perhaps nobody would believe it, even if she told them. But