My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) by Julie Johnstone

desperate that the man she loved might never notice her and she was therefore succumbing to giving a fig about unimportant things such as the state of her hair and the cut of her gowns. “My mother put it up for me.”
    “That explains a great deal,” he said with a frown.
    Before she could ask whatever he meant, he made a slight gesture with his right hand toward her hair. “I think perhaps you better repair it.”
    “I’m not very good with hair,” she admitted. The last thing she wanted to do was stand here struggling to put her hair in order with this man watching her. She was terrible with hair for one thing. For another, no matter what she did to it, she highly doubted her efforts would look presentable in his eyes, given the beautiful women he was used to. Grasping the only diversion for him she could think of she said, “Perhaps you ought to see to your coachman and let him know he will be taking me to the picnic.”
    The duke nodded while dragging his gaze to her eyes. “That’s probably a good idea. He’s just past the stables.”
    “Take your time,” she answered.
    With a tilt of his head, he strode away, not looking back. As she pulled the hairpins out she moved to the door of the stable and opened it enough to see outside. His Grace walked toward the house with long assured strides. It was no wonder at all Constance had fallen for him after one dance. He exuded confidence. She was not Constance and would never be so silly, but she could see how his looks might make one feel entranced.
     

     
    Lady Amelia truly baffled him. Her blushes over her family’s state of affairs and her honest blunt question regarding the god-awful creation atop her head made her seem vulnerable and without guile. Maybe she was the finest actress of them all, though at this moment he was disinclined to believe that. Unsettled by his thoughts, Colin jerked a hand through his hair as he strode toward the tree he had left Barnes dozing under. He stopped in front of his coachman and, with the tip of his boot, tapped him on the foot.
    Barnes opened his eyes and sat up. “Your Grace?”
    “I need you to take Harthorne’s sister, Lady Amelia, to a picnic.”
    “Certainly, Your Grace. Will I be bringing her home, as well?”
    Colin nodded, an idea forming in his mind. “Watch the lady as close as you can and let me know if she pays particular attention to any gentleman and how she acts if she does.”
    “How she acts?” Barnes’s brows drew together.
    Bloody hell. Colin rubbed the back of his neck. This was idiotic. What did it matter if she was coy with other men? He didn’t care. But he was curious. Intrigued. It was perfectly fine to be curious since she would undoubtedly prove herself like all other women. Barnes was staring a hole through Colin. Damnation.
    “I want to know if she pretends to be helpless or perhaps bats her eyelashes a great deal or walks too close to a particular gentleman or even disappears into the woods with him. That sort of thing.” The sort of trickery women used to bait men before they reeled them in and showed them they were not a pretty little fish but a shark.
    “If you say so, Your Grace.”
    Colin felt damn ridiculous, but it was too late now. He wanted to prove to himself that she was not as good as she seemed, but then again, he didn’t want that at all. This confusion was annoying in the extreme. He missed the certainty he had held about all women just yesterday before he had met Lady Amelia, even if it had depressed him to be so sure of the fairer sex’s duplicitous nature. He detested this wavering.
    “Come on,” he clipped and turned on his heel to stride back to the stables. Once there, he flung open the door and was about to call Lady Amelia’s name when she stepped into the walkway from a horse stall. He clamped his mouth shut and stared at her glorious hair. With the sun shining behind her she appeared to be surrounded by a golden mist. Wisps of hair framed her face, but