Page 26 of The Insufferable Duke
“Oh, they are playing nice for this moment in time. Do not be such a fool as to think it will last. By the time you and I follow them into this shop, they will be arguing over which material is best; I would wager everything I own on that,” Lady Helena said, her eyes boring into his own.
“Then play peacemaker,” he warned through gritted teeth.
“What do you think I was doing? Sitting there for my own enjoyment?” she muttered tiredly. “I am trying to help, but I didn’t say I’d be effective every minute of every day.”
“Clearly, I should have picked a better partner in this task.” He rolled his eyes. “You are giving up already.”
“I am not!”
“Then be better at this endeavor.”
“You are a proud man.” She stepped closer toward him. The proximity startled Christopher. He looked down, his eyes distracted by tracing the curves of her blue irises and the flecks within them. Those eyes came alive when she competed with him. “If you think so highly of yourself, then feel free to take over this task entirely.” She copied his gesture and motioned to the window. “You can play peacemaker, and I will go and find some more tea somewhere.” She stepped away from the shop.
“And I am the proud one?” he muttered, chasing after her. He cut her off just a few steps down the path and walked forward, prompting her to scurry back so she stood beside the window of the shop once again. “I cannot spend all my days as peacemaker, that is why the two of us must work together. I have a dukedom to run.”
“Is that what you do with your time?” She quirked one dark eyebrow. “I’d heard you spend your time doing something else entirely.”
“Such as watching over my tenants, perhaps?” he offered. “Or managing my business affairs? Yes, it is hard work and takes dedication.”
“Business? I do not believe manipulating people into giving you money is proper business.” She tipped her chin high with the words. Christopher was shocked. He stood very still, feeling as if she had lashed out and wounded him in the gut.
“What can you know of my businesses?” He’d taken pride in his work, always. His father had taught him how to do business fairly from a young age, and he’d always been keen to follow in his father’s footsteps.
“I’ve heard what people say, and my father has told me all about your business practices. The deceit, the trickery, all to take another man’s money. That is not business,” she hissed.
“Your position would be admirable if it was in any way correct.” His strength of tone matched her own. She blinked, seeming as startled as he had been by the words. “When you are so curt, so blunt, so quick to judge others when you do not know them, suddenly I understand why you are not married, Lady Helena.”
He’d wished to injure. It was an ugly feeling, one that he hated in himself, yet he’d had no control over it. As she had hurt him by insulting his business practices, he longed to deliver that same wound.
Her lips parted, her cheeks reddened to a crimson shade he had never seen before, like the skin of tomatoes. There was intensity in her eyes as she glared at him.
“I beg your pardon?” she whispered.
“Insults do neither of us credit. Do not make me utter it again.”
“Some insult,” she smirked. Her sudden mirth had him tilting his head to the side, examining her intently. She was unlike any other lady he’d ever met, and while he should have been irked and running from her —for she was a Carter, after all — he wasn’t. He was still standing outside with her, arguing with her, quite alone, when they should have been inside and paying attention to Lady Julia’s choice of wedding gown.
“It was an insult,” he muttered darkly.
“To point out a flaw in myself that you match?” She laughed softly. “Oh, wounded am I!” Dramatically she held her hands to her chest. “You must have pierced me with the arrow of your wit.”
“You’ll draw attention to us.” He flicked his gaze around the street, noting a group of ladies that chuckled when they saw Lady Helena’s performance.
“That is quite the point — to poke fun at what you said, for may I point out the flaw in your insult?” She lowered her hands and stepped toward him again. “You have simply accused me of being what you are yourself. Unmarried. What is so wrong about that state, pray tell?”
“I am a gentleman. You and I both know I can stay unmarried for longer without earning such cruel titles as spinster.” His voice deepened.
He’d delivered that wound now. Her eyes closed once, and she shook her head as she backed up from him. Rather than feeling any success or delight in what he had said, he felt ugly, and his gut twisted in pain.
“Some gentleman. That’s what you think you are?” she whispered. “Then you should look longer in your looking glass when you next see yourself. Maybe you’ll see what I see.” She flicked her head away and hurried into the shop.
Christopher raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing just what an awful thing he had said. In the attempt to defend himself and make himself feel better, he’d been unkind indeed.
No wonder she despises me. It must have little to do with the feud between the families these days and everything to do with the way I am.
After some minutes, Christopher built up the courage to go back into the shop. Lady Julia was standing before a set of mirrors, swathed in material that the modiste was pinning around her. The Duchess of Dunton stood back, frowning intently, as Frances walked around Julia.
“Is it fashionable though, dear?” the Duchess asked.
