Sins of a Duke by Suzanne Enoch Page A

Good evening, Melbourne.” With that he stalked out of the room. Caroline offered a more sympathetic glance and then followed her husband.
    As the door closed, Sebastian walked to one of the long windows. The moment he returned to the ballroom Willits would be there, trying to compliment his way back into the fold. A dozen other peers he’d greeted and avoided were still expecting a moment of conversation with him, as well. And since he’d danced with Caroline, all of the single chits would think they had a chance with him tonight.
    Scowling, he wandered to the back of the room whereAllendale kept the majority of his ill-read library. A moment later one of the books caught his eye, and he shifted the step stool over so he could climb up and reach it high on its unread perch. A History of the Southern Americas . From the publication date it was six years old, but he paged through it, anyway.
    Only a small portion of the text had been devoted to the Mosquito Coast, but he sat by the fire to read the section, anyway. The Spanish had taken most of Central and South America and all the riches therein, but they had conspicuously avoided the Mosquito Coast. The reason for this, according to the author, one John Rice-Able, was because the area had been deemed worthless, a miasma of flooded, malaria-ridden deltas, impenetrable jungles, and oppressive year-round heat and humidity.
    The description couldn’t have been farther from the one in Embry’s prospectus. Here he found no mention of gentle sea breezes or easily cleared land, or of a thriving town filled with promise. Admittedly, this was two pages of generalizations versus the four hundred and twenty detailed ones of the prospectus, but it was enough to raise some questions.
    Well, he knew of one way to get further information: Find Mr. John Rice-Able, who hopefully resided somewhere reachable. Slowly he closed the book and returned it to its place. Something about Costa Habichuela and its royalty had felt too good to be true, however nebulous his suspicions. This wasn’t much, but enough pieces formed a complete puzzle.
    As he stepped down from the stool, the library door opened again. “I thought to find you hiding here,” Josefina’s voice came from behind him.
    He faced her. “Did you tire of your new liaison? Surely he can’t have regaled you with all of his hunting stories already. Or did he run from you in terror?”
    “Ha! The Duke of Harek is a very agreeable man. I may marry him.”
    It took all of his willpower to keep from surging forward and grabbing her. “I hadn’t realized your standards were so low,” he returned, just managing to keep his voice even. “He does share your affinity for nonsense, I suppose.”
    She stalked forward, her mustard-colored gown swishing with each step. “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”
    He was not about to mention any of his nonsensical thoughts aloud. “Your absurd air of superiority that you over-reach because you have no real concept of how to behave like royalty,” he said instead.
    “I should have you hanged for that,” she snapped, her fine cheeks darkening.
    Apparently he’d made a hit. “Come and try,” he taunted.
    To his surprise, she kicked off her slippers. “Before I became a princess,” she said, fury etched on her pretty face, “I was a soldier’s daughter.” She stalked over to the fireplace and removed a rapier from its display. “Defend yourself, Melbourne.”
    “You are a lunatic.”
    “And you will stop insulting me with every breath. Since words don’t seem to have any effect on your highly inappropriate behavior, perhaps this will. Defend yourself. I won’t warn you again.”
    For a long moment he looked at her, her bosom heaving and her chin held high. She was absolutely magnificent. “No.”
    “What?”
    “You may have forgotten your station, Your Highness, but I haven’t forgotten mine. I have no intention being discovered dueling in someone’s library.