Page 14 of The Duke Says I Do
“I’ll find us a tub,” Granville said.
“We’ll need some warm water, too” Portia said.
“Sheriff will sort that out, my lady.” Phipps turned to his employer. “Will that be all, Your Grace?”
“For the moment. Thank you, Phipps.”
“You’ve upset him,” Portia murmured after Phipps had gone.
Another of those heart-stopping half-smiles. Blast him, she wished he’d refrain. They made her stomach tighten in a most disorienting fashion.
“I know. He only calls me Your Grace when he’s in a snit. He has a much stronger sense of my dignity than I do.” His hand rested on Jupiter’s head. It was clear that Jupiter approved.
“I always thought you were so puffed up with pride, you were likely to burst,” Portia said, then raised her hand to her lips to muffle a gasp of mortification. “I do beg your pardon, Your Grace.”
A snort escaped. “For heaven’s sake, don’t you start Your Gracing me.”
“But I was just appallingly rude.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Believe me, I’m well aware that you don’t like me.”
A painful flush prickled her cheeks. “Did Juliet tell you?”
“No, of course she didn’t.”
Of course she didn’t. Until she broke society’s rules in such spectacular fashion, Juliet had been a pattern card of good behavior. That included her famous tact.
Portia’s lips flattened. “You don’t like me either.”
Another soft exhalation of laughter. “You’re growing on me.”
“Like mildew?” Portia said before she processed what he’d said. Once she did, she regarded him in open-mouthed astonishment. “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind about me?”
He stared back with a blandness that once she’d have dismissed as the boring Duke of Granville being boring as usual. Now she knew that he enjoyed a private joke. His voice emerged equally expressionless, which made what he said next even more bewildering. “Despite my better judgment, I find myself rather admiring you.”
“But I’ve done nothing but disrupt your life. You should curse that we met today.”
Another of those attractive shrugs. “Perhaps someone was overdue to turn things topsy-turvy.”
“Juliet did that,” Portia said, before she could remind herself that mentioning his brief engagement to her sister was disgracefully gauche.
His mouth turned down in self-derision and perhaps remembered pain. Juliet had always said that Granville didn’t love her and had only chosen her because she made a suitable duchess. But Portia had never been sure. Less sure now she knew that the Duke of Granville was far from the stolid lump of smugness that she’d judged him.
Juliet was very beautiful. It would make sense that the man who wanted to marry her was besotted. How very lowering to note that every fiber of Portia’s being loathed the idea of the Duke of Granville hungering for her sister. Indeed, the thought made her nauseous.
“A talent for disruption runs in the family.”
She twined her hands at her waist. “You should despise the name of Frain.”
“Perhaps, but today you’ve proven yourself brave and resourceful, and I applaud the way you defended Jupiter.”
“You always thought I was a complete rattlebrain,” she said sourly, while the unexpected compliments swirled around her, not making sense.
“I’ve learned the error of my ways, my lady. Closer acquaintance reveals hidden qualities.” She’d never have believed him capable of such a brilliant smile. If his half-smiles sent her silly heart cavorting, this full smile punched all the air out of her lungs and left her giddy.
She was incapable of putting two words together. When she didn’t reply, Granville gestured toward the back of the stables. “Enough of this cloying sentiment. We’ll be sobbing into the hay bales if I keep this up. Shall we find a receptable for Jupiter’s ablutions?”
She gulped for air and through a haze, watched him disappear down the aisle between the stalls.
