Page 25 of Never Dare a Duke
“It was not easy to be raised a Cabot, to bear up beneath the weight of intense scrutiny and expectations. And so far he has succeeded wonderfully. But he holds himself so correctly, and I sense great loneliness in him.”
The stab of guilt took Abigail by surprise, but she was getting used to ignoring it. “He is a duke, Miss Bury. He is surrounded by many people every day.”
“Too many people, if you ask me.”
“Then he should relinquish the title.”
Abigail spoke playfully, but Miss Bury looked puzzled.
“You know such a thing is impossible, Miss Shaw.”
“Miss Bury, please, I was only jesting.”
“Oh…well, I can see you do not believe that I am serious about the possibility of your catching the duke’s eye.”
Instead of being disappointed in her, the old woman just looked determined.
“Miss Shaw, I know something of waiting too long.”
She spoke without bitterness, and Abigail couldn’t help but be intrigued. “Then you…wish you would have married?”
“At times. But I never felt the moment was right, and I let my chances slip away. But do not mistake me—I have no regrets. I lived my life as I wished. I just do not want to see you throw away a chance at happiness because you do not think it is possible.”
Miss Bury claimed to have lived life as she wanted—Abigail was doing the same. But she didn’t see the purpose in contradicting the old woman aloud. After all, how could she explain what wasreallygoing on? She had to remind herself that if Miss Bury thought she had a chance to be a duchess, then her ruse with the duke as her pretend suitor was already working.
Christopher leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. He had been hunched over the desk in his bedroom all afternoon. It was time to distract himself with letters that he’d long neglected to write. Only when he was looking up the address of a London friend, who prided herself on knowing information about every notable family in England, did he think of Miss Shaw. Would his friend knowherfamily?
He was curious about Miss Shaw—and suspicious. And since he was considering Lady Gwendolin as a bride, should he not know all about her friends and their motives?
Before he could change his mind, he wrote a brief postscript, saying he’d met Miss Shaw and asking his friend if she knew of the Shaw family. He sealed the envelope and affixed a stamp. He would have it sent to the post office immediately, and it should reach London the next day by the railways. He wouldn’t have long to wait.
And what did he intend to do if he found out the Shaws were hiding a secret? Tell Miss Shaw he didn’t want her assistance? Or simply watch her, which wasn’t terribly difficult to do. At least it gave an air of excitement to the usual house party.
He sighed and looked back at his desk. Procrastination. He was good at it. And Miss Shaw made thinking about her far too easy.
When Abigail and Gwen entered the drawing room, Abigail saw the duke speaking with Mr. Tilden and Lord Keane. She knew the moment that he saw her over their shoulders. She thought with some irritation that he was quite the actor, so pointedly did he take in her gown with a dark sweep of his eyes. She thought she might have to force a maidenly blush, but it came quite naturally.
More than one person noticed the duke’s attention on her, and to heighten their curiosity, she gave the duke a brief nod, as if she took note of his interest and approved.
Mr. Wesley approached them, wearing a pleasant smile. There was no mystery to this young man, no tension that made a woman restless with longing. She imagined that everyone in the room thought he was the man she should focus her attention on, the younger son of gentry, as high as a gentleman’s daughter should reach.
But Abigail saw the way Gwen straightened when the vicar looked at her. Did Abigail imagine that the vicar quickly looked away because he shouldn’t be caught staring at an earl’s daughter? It was all so very interesting.
“Ladies,” Mr. Wesley said, “what did you think of Lady Elizabeth’s ghost stories?”
“They were a good beginning,” Gwen said, “but did not give us a historical period to concentrate on.”
“Perhaps someone in the family can give us dates when the ghost was spotted?” he asked.
Abigail nodded almost absently, feeling only a little guilty for letting Gwen bear the brunt of the ghost research. Seeing her bright eyes upon the vicar, Abigail didn’t think she would complain. They continued to talk about research strategies, and the vicar’s revelation about old diaries he’d discovered. Abigail’s gaze wandered away.
The duke was watching her again, and she lifted her chin as if in challenge. Flirting was not so difficult after all.
Vaguely, she heard Mr. Wesley say, “Perhaps they even invited me to exorcise the ghost!”
The two of them laughed rather breathlessly, and Abigail for a moment thought them silly. But not for long, for suddenly the duke excused himself from the two men and came striding across the room toward her. She found herself not breathing, watching with wider and wider eyes as he moved past the ladies, nodded absently at Lord Greenwich, who spoke to him, and even walked right by without seeing his approaching mother. He was breathtaking in his dark coat and trousers, all shadows and intensity.
And then he was standing beside her, his face above her, and she felt far too dainty. And silly, as she realized what she was doing. She sneaked a glance at Gwen, who looked as if she was trying not to laugh. Only a moment ago, she had found Gwen silly!
