Page 75 of The Lost Duke of Wyndham

Grace shook her head, not even trying not to smile. “Mr. Audley…”

But he was looking this way and that, his manner almost comically surreptitious. “I think we’re alone,” he whispered.

Grace leaned in, feeling very sly. “Which means…?”

“You can call me Jack.”

She pretended to consider. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I won’t tell.”

“Mmmm…” Her nose scrunched, and then a matter-of-fact: “No.”

“You did it once.”

She pressed her lips together, suppressing not a smile, but a full-fledged laugh. “That was a mistake.”

“Indeed.”

Grace gasped and turned. It was Thomas.

“Where the devil did he come from?” Mr. Audley murmured.

From the small saloon, Grace thought miserably. The entrance was right behind them. Thomas frequently spent time there, reading or tending to his correspondence. He said he liked the afternoon light.

But it wasn’t afternoon. And he smelled like brandy.

“A pleasant conversation,” Thomas drawled. “One of many, I assume.”

“Were you eavesdropping?” Mr. Audley said mildly. “For shame.”

“Your grace,” Grace began, “I—”

“It’s Thomas,” he cut in derisively, “or don’t you recall? You’ve used my name far more than once.”

Grace felt her cheeks grow hot. She’d not been sure how much of the conversation Thomas had heard. Apparently, most of it.

“Is that so?” Mr. Audley said. “In that case, I insist you call me Jack.” He turned to Thomas and shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

Thomas made no verbal reply, although his thunderous expression spoke volumes. Mr. Audley turned back to her and said, “I shall call you Grace.”

“You will not,” Thomas snapped.

Mr. Audley remained as calm as ever. “Does he always make these decisions for you?”

“This is my house,” Thomas returned.

“Possibly not for long,” Mr. Audley murmured.

Grace actually lurched forward, so sure was she that Thomas was going to lunge at him. But in the end Thomas only chuckled.

He chuckled, but it was an awful sound.

“Just so you know,” he said, looking Mr. Audley in the eye, “she doesn’t come with the house.”

Grace looked at him in shock.

“Just what do you mean by that?” Mr. Audley inquired, and his voice was so smooth, so purposefully polite, that it was impossible not to hear the edge of steel underneath.

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