One Tempting Proposal by Christy Carlyle Page A

for new friendships, she’d reminded Kitty of Hattie. Extending an invitation to her mother’s ball had seemed a simple kindness, but she certainly hadn’t treated the young woman as a friend tonight. She’d taken the easy way, avoiding another skirmish with Cynthia Osgood, when the others snickered at Annabel after Wellesley snubbed her. But it hadn’t prevented a row with Cynth, who’d turned on Kitty, just as she had at their ladies’ tea.
    â€œShe’s unkind. I cannot fathom why she’s such a popular young woman.” Hattie rarely condemned anyone, and Kitty’s skin itched at the realization her sister’s dismissal of Cynth could as easily be applied to her own behavior. “She’s certainly caught Mr. Wellesley’s eye.”
    â€œAny pretty thing catches Rob’s notice.” Kitty knew him to be an incorrigible flirt.
    The Adderlys and Wellesleys had been connected for years, and Rob Wellesley had attended the same house party where Kitty befriended Miss Benson. Apparently the two had been acquainted since childhood, but Rob was as blind as he was handsome, and Annabel’s infatuation, which was obvious to everyone who saw the two of them together in the same room, remained a mystery to him.
    â€œWell, he should have a care for how he treats your new friend.”
    The admonition was meant for Wellesley, but Kitty hadn’t treated the girl any better.
    â€œI should speak with Annabel and make sure all’s well.”
    It wasn’t because of what Wrexford said. If she bucked Papa’s commandments, she certainly wouldn’t change her behavior because of a stranger’s admonition.
    â€œAnd you’ve picked just the right moment. The duke has joined them. That young woman with Annabel is his sister, Lady Philippa.”
    Annabel stood side by side with the tall brunette in a blue gown and the broad-­shouldered duke. He stood with his back to the ballroom and the notion of approaching him under the bright light of the gaslight chandeliers set bees buzzing inside her belly.
    Hattie didn’t hesitate another moment before urging Kitty to follow her around the edge of the ballroom and join the trio.
    As soon as they approached, he turned to look at her and Kitty’s skin burned. Her cheek, her neck, everywhere his gaze touched.
    She kept her eyes fixed on Annabel. “Annabel, might I have a word with you, my dear?” Kitty needed to apologize, but to do so under the duke’s unnerving watchfulness was unthinkable.
    Hattie cleared her throat with feminine delicacy and nudged Kitty’s arm.
    â€œYour Grace, may I introduce my sister, Lady Katherine?”
    Ah, yes, she’d forgotten the niceties, and the fact that no one knew they’d already made their own awkward introductions privately.
    â€œPleasure to meet you, Lady Katherine.” Wrexford hadn’t completely forgotten the niceties, it seemed. He bowed as well as any nobleman born to his title, but Kitty didn’t offer him her hand for the pretense of kissing it. If their tangle in the sitting room taught her anything, it was that the Duke of Wrexford loathed pretense.
    â€œEveryone calls her Kitty,” Hattie offered.
    His brow winged up. “Do they?”
    Kitty closed her eyes a moment before glaring at her sister. Hattie looked confused, but then merrily carried on with the introductions.
    The duke caught the exchange, and that alluring grin crept over the curve of his mouth.
    â€œYour Grace, may I introduce your sister to mine? Kitty, this is Lady Philippa, His Grace’s sister.”
    The young woman lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, but her mouth curled into a displeased pucker, as if she’d taken a bite of something sour.
    Wrexford looked down at his sister with one arched eyebrow, though if he intended to correct her, the grin still lingering on his mouth—­why could she focus on nothing but the man’s