The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke by Jillian Hunter

he went about it. He would have to prove himself to her. As he’d never bothered about making an impression before, and as he was anything but subtle in manner, he perceived he had a problem.
    So he loitered in bed a little longer, studying the church spires and gray sky through the window.
    Unfortunately, he had not pondered long before another visitor interrupted his concentration. He groaned inwardly as he recognized Emma’s cousin, Sir Gabriel Boscastle, a handsome gambler and hard-seasoned soldier with a dark sense of humor who had walked on the dangerous side of life a few times himself. He’d been at odds with his London cousins in the past. It appeared the two factions of the family had made amends. “Look at our little patient. I heard you ruined a perfectly good chair with your head yesterday.”
    Adrian snorted. Gabriel was a man’s man, a lady’s man, and had lived as many years on the fringe of Society as he had. “I might just jump out of bed and throttle the next person who reminds me of that humiliating fact.”
    Gabriel broke into a grin. “At least they’ve got your head resting on pretty silk cushions. Would you like me to bring you some flowers?”
    Adrian laughed reluctantly. “I thought I might start reading fashion magazines.”
    “All jesting aside, are you all right?” Gabriel inquired, swinging his long legs over a stool.
    “How do I look?”
    Gabriel shook his head. “Damned peculiar on that chaise, I have to say. Why are you still here, anyway?”
    “I suppose I am easily amused.”
    Gabriel lowered his voice. He’d been born with the dark Boscastle beauty and passion for life. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”
    Adrian angled forward, his interest piqued. “Explain.”
    “Escape, my friend, while you have the chance. This is not a place for men like us who value their freedom.”
    “I suppose you’re referring to the young ladies of the academy,” Adrian retorted. “I believe I can keep them at bay.”
    “Hell, not them,” Gabriel said rudely. “I mean the headmistress, Emma. Get out of this house and run for your life before her gloves of doom grasp you in their dainty but deadly clutches.”
    Now Adrian’s curiosity was not merely piqued, it was aroused uncontrollably. “Run from Emma? She’s half my size,” he mused. And more than twice his weight in spirit.
    Gabriel smiled darkly. “Once she realizes what a miserable past you’ve led, she will move heaven and earth to make your life one of duty and decency.”
    Adrian cleared his throat. He liked what little he knew of Gabriel. But, frankly, he was more intrigued by his dire threats of Emma’s intentions than discouraged. “I must say, Gabriel, if she tried to redeem you, it doesn’t seem to have worked.”
    “Some of us are beyond redemption,” Gabriel replied, unoffended. “I try to avoid her notice as much as possible. Of course you don’t have much choice. You do know what the family calls her? The Dainty Dictator.”
    Adrian hid his amusement behind a bland expression. It occurred to him that Emma had developed her leadership skills of necessity in a family of dominant personalities. A wilting violet would perforce be trampled at an early age in this clan.
    “I suppose I would have done the same thing yesterday if I saw her insulted,” Gabriel mused. “Mind you, I think you should have ducked before ruining that chair.”
    “That’s good advice.” Adrian suddenly reached back for a cushion to hurl at Gabriel’s chest. “Duck.”
    Gabriel caught the cushion with a grin. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Lying here wounded makes you an ideal target for one of Emma’s improving crusades. It’s truly painful when she decides to redeem you because, well, because there’s something about her that makes a man wish he could be better. She lectures you. You pretend to listen, and then before you know it, you start hearing her voice, like an angel of conscience on your shoulder,