Dare to Love a Duke. Eva Leigh

lodgings and spend the rest of the night reading by the fire? What a truly gloomy thought. He hadn’t spent a quiet evening at home in nearly a decade. But if he wasn’t going to avail himself on the Orchid Club’s bounty, maybe it was better to beat a retreat.

      With a frustrated sigh, Tom turned to go. But he stopped when he caught sight of a woman standing alone by a table that held a potted orchid.

      She was fully dressed in a sophisticated white-and-gold gown and wore a mask of gold satin. The light in the ballroom was dim, yet even from this distance he could see the olive hue of her skin, and the long line of her neck revealed by her upswept black hair. She possessed a bold splendor, her features strong and striking. She had a beautiful, generously proportioned nose like a Mediterranean goddess, and full, ripe lips. Like him, she watched the proceedings in the ballroom, but did not move to participate.

      She held herself with the kind of poise that came only with complete self-assurance. As if she refused to believe anything could hold her back. That, even more than her beauty, made her magnetic. Once Tom’s gaze fell upon her, he could not look away, not even if the building had fallen down around him.

      Who was she? What kept her from joining in the activity all around them? He ached to know her every secret, and burned to hear her voice—would it be high and musical, or low and husky? Anything and everything about her he ached to discover.

      He couldn’t remember a woman affecting him so strongly, so quickly. He knew desire, certainly, and the quick pull of attraction, but this immediate fascination was unknown. Until now.

      Every part of him craved to be near the woman in the gold mask. Overcome with staunch determination, he moved straight in her direction. Whatever tonight’s outcome might be, he could never regret coming here, because it brought him to her.

       Chapter 2

      Excitement and anxiety pulsed just beneath the surface of Lucia Marini’s skin as she surveyed the Orchid Club’s belowstairs kitchen.

      “We’ll have enough cakes?” she asked Jenny, the cook.

      “For the fifth time, yes,” Jenny said with an exasperated smile.

      She placed a candied violet atop one sugared confection and set that on a silver tray. Immediately, a masked female member of the staff whisked the platter away.

      “Circulate three times through each room,” Lucia called after the girl.

      A pair of hands settled on Lucia’s shoulders and gently squeezed. “Breathing’s not so difficult, once you get the hang of it.”

      Lucia turned and smiled at her friend Kitty. Kitty’s ash-blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders, and her hazel eyes regarded Lucia with fond amusement. With her coral freckles scattered across ivory skin, Kitty looked more like a country girl from Devonshire than a London woman of experience. She had once been the former and was now the latter.

      At the sight of Kitty, a fraction of the tension knotted in Lucia’s chest loosened.

      “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

      “A little,” Kitty said. She rubbed her hand over her exceptionally pregnant belly in habitual movement. “But a bit of ridiculousness is perfectly understandable. Tonight’s your first night as the club’s manager. Only an escapee from Bedlam would be calm about it.”

      “I may need to be committed to Bedlam after the night’s over.” Lucia couldn’t keep still, and, despite a glower from Jenny, adjusted the placement of miniature tarts on their platter. They looked good, but were they good enough?

      Jenny pointed a cook’s knife in Lucia’s direction. “Hands off, or I’ll chop them off and make them into mincemeat pies.”

      Hands raised up, Lucia backed away from the sweets. “It’s not that I doubt your skill in the kitchen—”

      Kitty laid her fingers on Lucia’s arm. “Stop right there before you say something that’ll make you cringe later.”

      She tugged Lucia out of the kitchen. In the corridor, Kitty stroked a few strands of hair from Lucia’s face. “Be at ease, love. Everything will go swimmingly.”

      Despite all the encouragement Lucia had given herself earlier, her composure fell away and she fought to keep from twisting her hands together.

      “Mrs. Chalke entrusted the Orchid Club to me. All the souls that work here, they all rely on me to keep our doors open. I fail, and we starve.” The magnitude of Lucia’s responsibility nearly crushed her, yet this was what she’d yearned for—a place of her own, and the means by which she could create a better life for herself and those she cared about.

      “Not so dire as that. True,” Kitty said with a nod, “we need the extra blunt the operation gives us, but nobody’s going hungry, no one’s sleeping on the steps of Christ Church. You needn’t ride yourself so.”

      Lucia stepped back to allow passage for a small convoy of male staff members carrying crates of wine bottles.

      “Remember, ragazzi, new rule—each guest gets a maximum of two glasses of wine.” Wine and spirits clouded judgment, and she wanted to ensure that every guest acted from a place of lucidity.

      “Yes, miss,” they called over their shoulders as they moved up the stairs leading to the ground floor.

      “And what of the girls’ home?” she continued to Kitty. A swell of anxiety rose up within her. “It won’t come to pass if the club sinks. All those girls will be left on the streets, without roofs over their heads, unable to read a letter or write their own names.”

      Kitty exhaled. “Before you set sail, you’ve got to first build the boat. A step at a time, love.”

      “What if—”

      “Enough fretting now.” Kitty smiled warmly as she tapped a finger on Lucia’s chin. “You proved to our dear former manager, Mrs. Chalke, that you deserved to take over her job when she retired. No one doubts your ability—not even you. So go on upstairs and oversee your new empire, Your Highness. As for me,” she continued with a small grimace, “my feet are swollen as melons, so I’ll be retreating to my room. But I’d rather be down here, helping.”

      Affection swept through Lucia in a soft tide. She enfolded Kitty in a quick embrace, though she bent into a concave shape to make room for Kitty’s round stomach.

      “Never doubt that you help,” she said sincerely. “Between you and Elspeth, I have more than my share of better angels.”

      Kitty laughed. “A winged angel big with child, that’s what I am.”

      “Now fly, piccolo angelo,” Lucia said, swatting Kitty on the arse. “I’m a busy woman.”

      Shaking her head, Kitty waddled toward the servants’ stairs, leaving Lucia briefly alone. She swallowed hard. Dark and ravenous for more of her flesh, the fear that always lurked climbed out from its pit.

      She shut her eyes as she drew in a deep breath.

      Cara Mamma, she implored the spirit of her mother, wherever you are, send your girl the spirit of good fortune and even better business.

      Quickly, Lucia crossed herself. Now was the time. This was her moment.

      She climbed the stairs, drawing strength and composure with each step. No matter how much fear or uncertainty she felt, she could never allow her guests to see any hint of apprehension. The Orchid Club relied upon its aura of unbridled sensual freedom to attract visitors again and again. Guests wanted to feel safe as they indulged their erotic desires. If there was any hint of the proprietress’s anxiety, the fantasy would shatter like brittle sugar sculpture.

      By the time she reached the top step, Lucia had swathed herself in the cool serenity of her professional