Page 70 of Wicked Is the Duke
"I am to meet with the estate manager shortly," he said as he neared.
"Will that take up your day?"
He nodded. "I'm afraid so," he replied. "We only get to meet once or twice a year."
"I understand. You need to make sure everything is progressing as it should."
"That's right, and today's a perfect day."
"Have you heard back about your inquiry of Carlisle?"
He shook his head as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. "Not yet."
"Why? Why do you think you haven't received a response?"
"He's probably checking out what I told him before he replies. Plus, the weather isn't conducive to much more than staying inside."
Anna felt him leave a trail of kisses on her neck. How could a man, any man make her knees quake and leave her breathless? At one point in her life, she would have never believed it possible, but now he stood before her.
"If you don't stop, I'm afraid your poor estate manager will find himself alone in your study wondering what's become of you," she said with a giggle.
He loosened his grip on her and sighed. "I'm afraid you're right."
"Perhaps it won't take as long as you think. Or you could simply make up an excuse to cut your meeting short."
"I can't. He's always quite prepared for these meetings."
"Very well, I suppose I'll find something useful to do."
"Develop your plates?"
"That is a thought, though I hate to be in an enclosed room with all those chemicals."
"Suit yourself, but I must go." His lips met hers.
The kiss ended. "Go."
He kissed her one last time before letting her go. "Perhaps we can take a nap when I'm through."
She looked at him in mock horror. "And you, Your Grace, are a scoundrel of the first degree."
He chuckled. "I understand my wife is quite fond of scoundrels."
She pushed him. She knew if he didn't leave what would happen. "Only if it's you, Your Grace. Now leave. Your estate manager awaits."
He walked back across the room, turning one last time to look at her before walking through the open doorway.
She knew there were two staircases leading to the attics. One the family used, when and if they went there. The other was the servants’ stairs.
Quiet as a mouse, Anna found her way to the front staircase leading to the attic. Opening the door, she found herself met with stale air. She wondered when the last time anyone had been up here was. If the dust indicated anything, no one had set foot in these rooms in quite a while.
Inside, she found furniture from by-gone eras, trunks, and crates. She slowly walked through the rooms in search of what, she did not know. Anna found a large trunk sitting with a couple others off to one side.
Opening the trunk, she found it full of gowns. She pulled one out and inspected the garment. Had it belonged to Blackmont's mother, perhaps his grandmother? Whoever the gown had belonged to, it was still as elegant as when it was first sewn.
She pulled another out, amazed by the intricate details of the seed pearls sewn into the fabric. The gown was a shade of lavender and looked as though it shimmered with all the pearls. Where had it been made? London or perhaps Paris? Perhaps the housekeeper would know since she'd been around at least during Blackmont's mother's time.
Anna returned the items to their trunk. She shut the lid and resumed her tour of the attic. Looking around, she noted the expanse of the room was not as crowded as some she'd encountered. Probably because this wasn't the main estate used by the family. That was evident by the age of things below. The wall coverings hadn't been changed in years, and nothing had been painted either.
