Page 47 of A Stroke of Luck
“Perseus Greeley, that wasnotwell done of you,” she said, trying to sound stern. “A gentleman should not indulge in such childish behavior.”
“Sorry.” He looked anything but contrite. “But nor should a gentleman indulge in such smarmy behavior as spreading innuendos and falsehoods. Nor should he act like a preening coxcomb.”
“Nor should he be so lily-livered as to take fright over a mere frog among his linen.” After a cursory glance at the carriage door being yanked shut, the duke stepped into the foyer and lay his crop and curly brimmed beaver upon the sidetable. “I do trust the poor creature’s lungs were not permanently damaged by the scent of that cloying cologne.”
Perry grinned. “No, sir, I believe no lasting harm was done. To the frog, that is.”
“Don’t worry about Harold. Probably did him some good to get a bit of vigorous exercise.” Stump’s face appeared next to the lad’s, an expression of mirth stretched upon his leathery features. “Ain’t never seen him move with such speed and agility.”
Prestwick chuckled. “I doubt Harold will ever be mistaken for a true Corinthian.”
“Really, sir, the two of you should not be encouraging Perry to make mischief.” Zara tried to ignore how boyishly handsome the duke looked with his wind-tousled hair and eyes alight with laughter. “It is …”
He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for her to finish.
“It is …”
“If you wish to ring a peal over someone’s head, by all rights it ought to be mine,” said Stump. “I showed Master Perry the pool in the gardens.”
“But it was I who brought up the subject of frogs.” Prestwick looked to be trying to maintain a straight face. “A pity I did not think to mention snakes. That might have been a more appropriate parting gift.”
“Can you imagine how fast your cousin would have slithered out of here,” laughed Stump. “He might have been halfway to London by now.”
“And good riddance,” replied the duke. “However, if Miss Greeley feels a punishment is in order, I shall have the two of us write out in our copybooks ‘I shall not indulge in boyish pranks’ one thousand times. In Greek.”
She schooled her voice to remain stern. “I cannot imagine you indulging in many boyish pranks, Your Grace.”
“Not many,” admitted Stump as he came down the stairs. “He was wont to spend more time in the library with his books and music than mucking about in the mud. But I do seem to recall an incident where india ink was added to a pot of gunpowder tea and your Aunt Griselda and her card party sported black teeth for a week.”
“And I sported a sore bottom for two.” He brushed a bit of dust from his breeches, then added in a more subdued tone, “You see, I was not always as stiff-rumped as you seem to think, Miss Greeley.”
Zara felt herself go rather warm all over as the only thoughts she had entertained concerning the duke’s rump were quite indecent for any proper young lady to have imagined.
“Speaking of Greek, sir, you promised me a lesson this afternoon.” Perry came sliding down the polished banister. ”Since your morning was taken up with teaching Nonny the finer points of riding.”
“So I did.” The duke caught hold of the lad’s collar just in time to prevent him from shooting head over heels toward the gilt looking glass over the sideboard.
“Perseus! I believe the duke has been forced to endure quite enough of the Greeleys and our problems for one day,” she admonished, grateful that any noticeable change in her coloring would be put down to annoyance rather than the fact that she considered Prestwick’s posterior far more intriguing than that of Michelangelo’s David. “Do leave off pestering him, else he, too, will be wishing to light out for London.”
The lad’s face fell. “I?—”
“It is no bother, Miss Greeley.” He set Perry on his feet and ruffled his hair. “I enjoy spending time with your brothers.”
She found it impossible to meet his eye. “You needn’t put a damper on visiting your London friends on account of them, sir.”
His brow furrowed.
Realizing how waspish she must have sounded only added an extra bit of sting to her tone. “But suit yourself.” With a lift of her chin, she gathered her skirts and turned for the hallway. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have some correspondence to finish.
“I would sooner attemptto translate Plato into Chinese than try to decipher the workings of the female mind,” muttered Prestwick.
Stump held a claret-colored evening coat at arm’s length and squinted. ”If you was to ask me about storming an artillery post or outflanking a troop of cavalry, I might be of some help.” The garment, having passed inspection was draped over the back of the dressing table chair. “But I’m as useless on the subject of understanding women as I am in doing up them tiny fastenings of your dress waistcoats.”
“I doubt there is a man alive who can claim to have that subject buttoned up,” growled Prestwick as he discarded yet another crumpled neckcloth. “Hell’s teeth, I seem to be all thumbs tonight in trying to get this deuced cravat to fall into a simple Mathematical.”
“Perhaps because it don’t add up right, your harin’ off to dine with your friends from Town, leaving Miss Greeley and her brothers all alone for the evening.”
“Miss Greeley has made it abundantly clear that my presence is neither wanted nor welcome.” He gave an impatient tug at the starched linen, drawing the folds hopelessly askew. “Damned if I can figure out why. I have seen to the ordering of a tasteful wardrobe, introduced her to the cream of London Society—andyet, no matter what effort I make to be helpful, it seems to explode in my face.”
