Page 35 of Never Dare a Duke
“You just didn’t like them because they were nobility, not a laborer championed by your father.”
She giggled. “Oh, Abby, you are so silly. Forget that, and tell me what happened with the duke’s tutor. And how did you even discover him?”
Abigail related her discussion with Lady Elizabeth. “And then I went to the village and met Mr. Yates.”
“And he spoke to you?”
Abigail smiled ruefully. “He did, though he is becoming rather forgetful. But he spoke eloquently of the eccentric Cabot family and the challenges of teaching a boy as ‘high-spirited’ as the little marquess. Imagine having a title like that when you’re born!” Then she rolled her eyes. “Well, of course you can imagine.”
“And that wasn’t even his birth title. He was the earl of Chesterton until his grandfather died.” Gwen sighed. “So what else did he say?”
“He simply confirmed that Madingley was irrepressible as a youngster—along with his two male cousins. When they went off to Eton at eight years of age, Mr. Yates began to teach the young female cousins. I tried to hint about a scandal involving the duke, but every time I mentioned Madingley, the poor fellow was practically bursting with pride at what a good man he’d become.”
“And does that imply he wasn’t before?”
Abigail shrugged. “I couldn’t tell. Oh Gwen, that was simply another disappointing interview.”
“Do not let it frustrate you, my dear,” she said kindly. “You are spending more time with the duke than any woman in my memory—except family, of course. That will lead somewhere.”
“Maybe I should spend more time with Lady Elizabeth.” Abigail’s voice was glum. “Perhaps that will lead to a clue. She was good enough to alert me to the tutor.”
“Be careful, Abby. The duke is very protective of his family. Probably more so than he is of himself.”
Abigail nodded, knowing she could not afford to anger him further. She remembered the dark look in his eyes, the way he’d towered over her, the anger that seemed born of frustration. His words,What will keep you safe from me?still rang in her head. She had not worried he would physically harm her, oh no; she had worried about what she wouldlethim do to her.
Chapter 10
At dinner that night, Lady Elizabeth announced her intention to have a dance the following evening, but there was to be one stipulation: It was to be a costume dance in honor of the ghost. And she promised to guide them all to the attics tomorrow, where they could look through old trunks to find the perfect garments.
Excited, Abigail could only think that she was being given permission to explore the attics, when all along she had been prepared to sneak up there. Who knew what secret letters and journals she could uncover?
After dinner, when the men rejoined them in the drawing room, conversation was cheerful. Abigail sat conversing with Gwen in the corner, but really she was watching the duke—who was watching Lord Keane with Lady Elizabeth. Although Abigail thought the duke would be happy to see his sister surrounded by admiring men, there was something different about him this night, as if a pleasant expression was particularly difficult to wear.
He hadn’t joined them for dinner, so she’d assumed he had had enough of them—of her—for one day. She’d been surprised when he’d entered the drawing room with the other men. His mere presence had lit the spark of her uncertainty, of her attraction, and it was difficult not to stare at him openly. Gwen had nudged her before she could appear the fool.
But the duke had had eyes for no one but his sister, who was giggling over something Lord Keane said. And Madingley’s frown intensified. More than one guest was watching him and whispering to another.
At last he interrupted his sister and Lord Keane with great civility. There was fondness in his eyes when he looked at her, yet not even amusement when he looked at Lord Keane. He excused both himself and his lordship to discuss business, and Lady Elizabeth innocently moved on to the next small group of people conversing.
Abigail glanced at Gwen, who smiled, and whispered, “Just go.”
Abigail waited a respectable amount of time and followed the two men out into the corridor. They were ahead of her, still walking, and she heard the duke’s voice saying sternly, “You were standing too close.”
She didn’t hear Lord Keane’s response, but it was obvious that the man soon realized that the duke was taking this more seriously than he was. Lord Keane apologized stiffly, and although the duke said something Abigail couldn’t hear, his lordship gave a nod of agreement.
Lord Keane turned down a corridor, and before Abigail could retreat, the duke saw her.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, smiling, trying to pretend she was not following him. “I am in need of a new book to read and was going to the library. Do not let me keep you from your guests.”
“My sister’s guests,” he said. “A new book sounds like a good idea.”
She felt her smile go stiff as he waited for her to approach. She was forced to accompany him down another corridor, and when she reached the library, she opened both doors wide and stepped inside.
The duke closed them both.
She frowned. “That isn’t wise of you.”
He advanced on her, and the oil lamps scattered at different tables gave him several shadows. She didn’t want him to think she was retreating, but with one step sideways, she put a sofa between them.
