Page 43 of Never Dare a Duke
“You can learn so much about people from the way they write,” she continued.
“And you thought to do so with the writing of servants?”
She shrugged and leaned back on both arms to look up at him, bringing the swell of breasts into prominence. How did she even expect him to think when she did something like that?
Or was that her intention?
“I had hopes,” she said ruefully. “But you’re right, there is nothing here from the servants, at least that I’ve been able to discover so far.”
“You’ve been at this long?” he said, cocking his head.
“No, Gwen only left a short time ago. She felt the need to find a maid with the best sewing skills. There is much work to be done on our gowns.”
A moment of silence stretched out, as she looked up at him, and he looked down at her. He wanted her to lie back, he wanted to come down on her…
“Did your governess teach you a love of writing?” he finally asked, to fill the charged atmosphere. His voice sounded far too rough, but she didn’t appear to notice.
“And my father.” She bit her lip and looked away.
“Am I not supposed to know that?”
She smiled and shook her head. “It is not that. Men simply are not usually the ones who keep the connections between distant family, but my father enjoyed that. He, too, kept a journal, and taught me how to write what my senses told me, to record my impressions of people.”
He sat down on a crate. “So what are you writing about your time at Madingley Court?”
He thought he detected a blush, but it was hard to tell in this faint light. Yet her skin shown with luminescence, and her unusual eyes gleamed.
“My impressions of all the people of course. Lord Keane’s arrogance and humor.”
“You have him well mastered.”
She grinned. “Lady Theodosia’s class awareness, yet her uncertainty and desperation that she’s not good enough.”
“Ah, yes, I can see where you’d surmise that.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No. What about Lady May?”
“Your other opponent in the marriage battle. Though she has backed down for now in the face of your apparent interest in me, I think she assumes good sense will win out on your part—and the fact that she believes me incredibly dull, plain, and beneath you.”
And before he could help himself, he murmured, “Beneath me can be a rewarding place.”
Chapter 12
Abigail knew at once that he was no longer referring to the difference in their classes, and the sensation that swept through her almost made her gasp. What was he saying? And why was he implying things no gentleman should?
Yet just those few words sent an answering heat through her and a curiosity no lady should feel.
But she wasn’t a lady.
And she could admit that he made her feel…desired, beautiful. And that was too tempting by half. Why was he treating her so intimately? And what was she supposed to say?
Suddenly, they both heard footsteps on the stairs below. They stared at one another in shock, and she saw his eyes narrow. Being discovered alone together would ruin everything they had—every bit of trust that was already so damaged between them.
The duke leaned over and blew out the lamp, then sank down onto the floor at her side, so close that his shoulder brushed hers. The back of the old sofa rose high enough to block them from sight. They could see the bobbing light of another lamp rise higher into the gloom.
“Chris?”
