Page 23 of The Duke
Surely Elsie wanted to argue that he must have had a missive from London, something from Mr. Holt, telling him something? Had the solicitor lied or had multiple letters just been lost?
“No,” he continued, “these are all local issues, or from my steward on occasion. The man is getting on a bit, I suppose at some point soon, I should look to hire a replacement, and let the man enjoy his retirement.” He bent over the table, and Elsie found herself watching his hands, deft and finely made, as they moved over the pages with careful consideration.
Her earlier annoyance over the mail coach dissolved as she studied him—that balance between rough maleness she had grown accustomed to, was now playing against Ashmore's role as lord of the manor, and the blend of masculinity and refinement was playing havoc with her senses.
“What did you call me in here to discuss?” Elsie asked. It would be far too easy to let herself luxuriate in the presence of his company, listen to his voice as he talked through matters and perhaps offer the occasional remark—to fall into a companionship-like situation, all the while ignoring the signs of danger that Ashmore resonated with. Elsie was too knowledgeable of her ownfoibles, let alone the risks of a desirable gentleman, to let a mistake happen again.
He frowned a little at the tartness of her words, and his hand drifted up to rub absently at his chest. “I am glad to have you here, as I have a list of guests that I thought suitable for Lady Flora’s birthday party.” He handed over a sheet of paper with a dozen names on it, and the number of people who were included within the family were in brackets. “I thought it a suitable but not an overwhelming number.”
Elsie let her eyes drop, scanning the list before she looked back to find that the duke had taken a seat closer to her, and seemed to be waiting for her response.
“I have had no luck in speaking to your sister,” Elsie said, lowering the page. “So, she is unaware of the planned celebrations. And she would need to be prepared, I am certain. Even a girl who had not witnessed what Lady Flora had would wish to buy herself a new gown and… Perhaps my scheme was a foolish one.”
Suddenly Elsie had a rushing desire to simply ask that her driver, maid, and the coach be sent for since the roads were clear, and she could return to London. The panic gathered pace through her belly until Ashmore reached out and took her hand.
“Let us talk to her this evening.” His smile was true and warm, an additional appeal to his sardonic face. “We can attempt another dinner together and broach the subject.”
It was in those moments that Elsie realised she was in far more danger than when he was being brusque or gruff with her. The sweetness in his character, that peeked out when it was directed towards his sister, showed his worth and strength of character.
The touch of his hand on hers lingered, tightened it seemed as he waited for a response from her, but all Elsie wished to do was turn her palm up and interlace their fingers, so she could hold on to the reassurance that was him. Tremors of awareness were aliveunder her skin, jittering outwards in uneven movements through her body. Exciting and different from what she had previously experienced. All she wanted to do was reassure him, that yes, she would help, that yes once that was done, she would go with him to London. After that of course, there could be no more holding hands or shared looks, but for the next month, surely, they could at least have these snatched moments. There was no possibility of anything else. Whilst it was fanciful of Elsie, it was still where her imagination went.
To her surprise he did not draw back, but instead continued to watch her as if assessing and coming to his own conclusions before he finally asked. “Would you agree to another dinner? I can assure you I will prepare my sister better this time?”
“I think it wise, especially if I am there to win her over.”
“Win?”
“Convince her?” Elsie suggested, in a teasing manner. Why had he not withdrawn his hand, did he care so little for propriety, had he forgotten, or did he think she was amoral? Perhaps a better question would have been why she did not pull her hand from his—perhaps her last idea on her own morality was sadly correct.
“Yes, that is what we both shall do.”
“And then, once that has occurred, it would be wise to head for London. It is where our presence is required,” Elsie forced herself to say, to remind them both of what obligations they had beyond this room.
It was this sentence that had him getting slowly to his feet, but instead of loosening his hold on her, he helped Elsie to her feet, drawing her slightly closer to him as they both stood. He seemed to tower over her, and Elsie wondered whether she should have felt worried, but there was nothing in her that sparked fear of him, only a desire to curl in closer towards him, to be near enough that the distance no longer mattered, because all thatspace was uncomfortably alive with a throb of unrelenting tension.
When she looked up Ashmore was looking at her hand, his brow was marred, and she thought it likely he was trying to think of something to say. She too wondered what words would be best uttered now, how to fill the gap that needed to be bridged.
“It is beyond anything that is expected of you,” Ashmore suddenly said, lifting his eyes and finding Elsie’s. “No one would blame you for desiring or requesting to leave the manor, now the roads are open. There is no obligation here.”
“But there is.” Elsie was annoyed as she snapped back, “If I wish you to help my sister, then I need to help yours. That is what you mean isn’t it?”
Ashmore grimaced, and she wondered if he was embarrassed, but he finally nodded.
“In that case, I am happy to do all I can to help.” This was not entirely true, but Elsie was stubborn, and her spirit would not be broken by Lady Flora’s difficulties or by a truculent household.
To her great surprise, it was then that the duke lifted her still enclosed hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. It was swiftly done, but it had been enough for her to remember the feel of it. Warm, soothing, and with the faint promise of something else, which made her long for more. The touch of his mouth had been imprinted on her skin, and Elsie doubted she would forget the sensation in a hurry.
“I will see you this evening,” she said as she loosened her fingers from his grip, and moved away from Ashmore, towards the door.
She felt his gaze follow her to the doorway until she bobbed a curtsey and left the room, all memories of her letters utterly forgotten and replaced with the brief kiss given. She hurried back to her room, unable to stop smiling.
CHAPTER 12
His actions, Kit knew, were not one of a gentleman, yet he was supposed to be a nobleman, and that should mean something. A title to his mind should convey responsibility and respectability. So, flirting with an unmarried guest in his own home was hardly the image he wanted to cultivate. Then again, a great deal of thebeau mondecertainly did not act in an honourable manner. Yet when he gazed down at Elsie, he wanted to charm her, wanted her to feel the strength of his regard.
The problem was he was not sure what this regard entailed. Oh, he wanted her. He doubted he was alone in that; men would have wanted her before. Miss Elsie Keating was an adorable little package, from her curling chestnut curls, to the recently discovered dimple on her right cheek close to her mouth, or the changing shades of her chocolate eyes—displaying elements of wit, sweetness, and intelligence in their dancing depths. So, she was pretty, that was a given, but he’d seen other pretty girls previously, bedded a handful of them too when they’d been eager and willing although the memory of that seemed to have faded entirely. The answer lay not merelyin her appearance but another aspect of her character, and that unnerved Kit greatly.
Besides which, given her tentative and admittedly blurred connections to his own household—a bond he was not entirely sure he understood or knew the whole story—the best course of action was, of course, to avoid any foolishness with Miss Keating. That was easier said than done, and temptation especially under one’s own roof was a challenge that Kit had not appreciated being as hard as it was.
