Page 40 of In Need of a Duke
The duke swallowed hard and tapped his boot against the floor.
“Have you been laying out the daffodils?” she asked. “I hardly see you.”
“I didn’t believe you wanted to see me. You burned my suits and fled to Scotland.”
She nearly gasped, straightening her shoulders.
Before she could respond, the duke shut his book and stood. The library fell to an unsettling hush. Charlotte’s heart thrummed in her ears as Ian strode toward her. She remained still, refusing to let him chase her away.
“Would you like me to read to you?”
“Pardon?”
He walked past her, forcing her to spin around as he settled on one end of the large sofa he had moved back to replace the settee, and reclined, throwing his arm over its back. So casual and powerful.
A king.
“You haven’t had a tailor here to replace your suits?”
“You could have burned down Stonehurst.”
“As if you would miss this house. You have others.”
He nodded. “Several in fact.” He narrowed his dark eyes as she stood before him, clutching the end of her shawl in her hands. It was such a small gesture, and yet, she felt entirely unmoored in that instance.
“You are right. I could have burned the house down. I didn’t think it through, and it was selfish,” she admitted.
“How unlike you.”
“I don’t believe you know the first thing about me. Good evening, Your Grace…”
“Ian.” He dropped his hand from the back of the sofa and leaned forward. “And please stay.”
“We can’t stand one another. I don’t see why we must suffer for the sake of appearances.”
He scratched his jaw, puzzling her over. “No appearances. There is no one here to perform for.”
Charlotte exhaled. This frustrating man… If he hadn’t returned, none of this would have happened.
“Come sit, and I will read. Close your eyes. Should I ring for tea?”
“No, that isn’t necessary.”
“I won’t say anything to exasperate you further.”
His very nearness troubled her. And yet, she missed him or maybe, the memory of the man she had loved once.
“I would love a small glass of sherry, please.” She dropped down onto the opposite site of the sofa and propped herself up with a pillow. The fire crackled in the fireplace, and she was certain she would fall asleep now if it wasn’t for how she enjoyed watching Ian move across the room.
He was powerful still. Just as he had been when he crossed the crowded ballroom the evening they met and made her forget how comfortable she was hiding along the wall.
“Here you are.” He held out a glass for her.
“Your hands!” Charlotte reached for his free hand, bruised, cut, and rougher than she had ever witnessed.
So very unlike him.
“It’s nothing.” He snapped his hand back, flexing it by his side, before sitting opposite her on the sofa. “I was readingValperga. Would you care for me to continue, or should I find something else?”
