Page 55 of Never Dare a Duke
All the stiffness went out of her then, and her head drooped with dejection. Whatever she was up to, it seemed to be costing her her peace of mind, and for that alone, his temper at last faded. But not his determination to unmask her.
Surprising him, she said hotly, “I think you aren’t making me leave because you think that—I will let you seduce me. I will not! I would shame my parents, and you’d feel honor-bound to marry me, and neither of us wants that kind of life.”
“You think I would marry you if I didn’t want to?” he scoffed.
“I think honor is so important that you’ve let it rule your life.”
“Not always.” The words slipped out without thought, and he realized he was letting her see too much of him. He was standing behind her, his hands still on her shoulders, and he didn’t want her to turn around.
But she’d stopped moving, almost stopped breathing, and he knew she was listening intently.
“You are a duke,” she said with disbelief in her voice. “You have been reared with nothing but honor, and you love your family. I do not believe you’ve ever had a moment of weakness, not like the rest of us mortals.”
And for a moment, he wanted to unburden himself to her, as if she could somehow absolve him of his guilt.
Did he think her that powerful in his life—already?
“Go back to the dance, Abigail. Or perhaps you should go to your room to repair yourself further.”
He spun her about and set one finger on the upper curve of her right breast. “I think I marked you with my mouth.”
She stared up at him, her pink lips slightly parted, her eyes searching his. And he didn’t see bewilderment and fear there, but dawning curiosity.
“Go.” His voice was too harsh.
She turned and fled, leaving him alone. His hands were fisted as he got himself back under control. And then he performed a methodical search of his bedroom, the dressing room, and the bathroom. Nothing was missing, which did not surprise him; she wasn’t a thief.
But it was time to send a man to London to investigate her, for he was having trouble finding the answers he needed. She was too distracting. Although an investigation would certainly last longer than her visit, he wanted to know all about her.
Until then, he would have to continue on his own, even though there was a risk of others discovering something amiss. He would inspect the mail every day, to see if she was regularly corresponding with someone. He would remain close to her, their pretend courtship intact, not give her the chance to be away from him. She would eventually reveal something.
Or he would, he thought with a slight wince. But he was determined to be the stronger one.
Chapter 15
The next morning, after looking through the outgoing post and finding nothing for Abigail, Christopher chose not to stop Elizabeth’s archery lesson. At the last minute, he backed out of a hunting trip with the men, so that Abigail wouldn’t know he was still nearby. He watched surreptitiously from the house as the women followed the gardeners, who were setting up targets on the lawn—far from the house. Even the gardeners knew that Elizabeth couldn’t be trusted with a sharp object.
Christopher had decided that turnabout was fair play. If Abigail could search his room, he could search hers. But just when he reached her door, Miss Bury opened hers.
“Your Grace!” she cried enthusiastically.
Christopher stiffened, glad he had not already put his hand on the doorknob.
“Miss Shaw is not here,” Miss Bury said, lowering her voice and looking about. “Although I must admit, it is rather daring of you to look for her in the ladies’ wing. But itisyour house!” She grinned.
Christopher gave her a chagrined smile. “Foolish, I know, but I simply had a question about the ghost—”
Miss Bury burst into laughter, then covered her mouth. “The ghost. Oh, that is too dear of you.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked as if he were confused.
“It is no secret that you favor Miss Shaw, and she you,” Miss Bury said in a lowered voice that still seemed to carry down the corridor.
“I am trying not to favor any one woman.”
“And it isn’t working, my dear boy—if I may call a duke that!”
The kind old lady looked so hopeful that he found it difficult to lie to her. “Miss Bury, I do not wish you to imagine secret plots where there are none. Miss Shaw and I are forced together this week, but as for a match, that wouldn’t suit either of our needs.”
