The Duke's Twin novel Chapter 4

"Are you all right? No twisted ankle?" There was something that seemed to amuse him about that last question-not that Rebecca could fathom why.

"I'm fine. My sister-"

"Good heavens, Rebecca, release the poor man!" her mother's breathless voice cut in. Rebecca let go of the gorgeous gentleman, and he of her.

Something in her chest tightened painfully, so much so that she dragged in a harsh breath as she stepped back from him. For the first time in her life, she was filled with a sense of hunger. And the object of her sudden desire could not be more poorly timed. This man must be the handsome Duke of Wiltshire everyone had spoken of last week.

And yet she knew this man would take one look at Lydia and never glance Rebecca's way again. She wasn't jealous of her sister. Lydia was beautiful, intelligent, and kind, and she deserved nothing less than a handsome duke to love and cherish her. Rebecca would never be so lucky.

He's not for you. He belongs to Lydia, the little voice in the back of her head whispered darkly.

Perhaps she was a little jealous.

Only fortune hunters wooed plain ladies like her, and she'd had her fill of those in the last three years. Now she realized just how much she wanted someone-wanted him-to look at her the way so many men looked at her sister.

Her mother stepped up beside her daughters, dipping into a curtsy, the gray feather on her turban wilting as though bowing in the man's presence.

Rebecca nearly laughed. She adored her mother, but honestly, the woman could drive her to exasperation with her constant desire to ingratiate herself to others. Still, watching her mother relieved some of the pang of longing she felt, but it wasn't fully erased. She did her best to keep her gaze downcast. It would only hurt to keep staring at the man who would most likely fall hopelessly in love with her little sister.

"Your Grace, it is such a pleasure to be here," her father said, coming out of the carriage. "We thank you most graciously for your invitation." He bowed to the handsome lord, and Rebecca dipped into an immediate curtsy alongside her mother and sister.

"On the contrary." The duke's gaze flitted to Rebecca's face. "I'm honored that you have consented to visit us. Please, Mr. Livingston, introduce me to your lovely wife and daughters."

Lydia was at Rebecca's side, their hands briefly touching in a silent show of support.

Their father stepped forward. "Of course. May I present to you my wife, Matilda, and my two daughters, Rebecca and Lydia."

The duke bent into a half bow of respect. His eyes moved from their mother's face to Lydia's before finally settling upon Rebecca. Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her a little longer than the others?