Page 95 of The Scottish Duke
To his surprise, she took his words seriously.
“Who am I to tell a duke how to behave?”
“A duchess. That’s who you are.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea how to be a duchess,” she said. “I wasn’t trained in my role as you were. I don’t know how to be a wife, either. You have the advantage on me since you were a husband before.”
She smiled at him, and he had the thought that she’d watched Matthews too closely. They’d both mastered the art of looking pleasant while wishing him to perdition.
Chapter 24
He left Lorna and made his way to his office, where Jason had moved all their new files. His assistant had placed his kit and the box containing Lorna’s present on his desk. He stared at the box and wondered if he’d been a fool to have been so preoccupied with finding the perfect gift for her.
The four drawers of the walnut box contained a selection of watercolors, brushes, and other tools he’d been assured were sought after by artists. He’d found it after an entire week spent going from one shop to another.
She’d probably refuse it.
Lorna had confronted him before when she was angry, but she’d acquired something between that first occasion and now. Maybe it was confidence, because she hadn’t looked the least bit uncertain as she sat there spearing him with words while nursing their child.
The damnable thing was that he deserved everything she threw at him. And probably more.
A few minutes later he and Jason walked down to the cottage.
“We’ve had mixed success with fingerprints on glass, Your Grace,” Jason said when he surveyed the scene of destruction.
“Let’s hope our luck changes.”
They carefully collected shards of glass with tweezers, dusting any potential area with soot he’d put through a filter. By the end of the hour they’d found three good specimens he would try to match. Using cotton cloth coated in an adhesive, they managed to lift the prints from the glass.
Once back in his office, Alex placed the cloth sections on his desk, arranging the cards from the residents of Blackhall, servants and family alike, in a pile nearby.
“You didn’t wait for me.”
He glanced up to see Lorna standing at the door. She’d changed her dress, but it wasn’t much of an improvement. This one, too, reminded him of her servant’s uniform, a dark blue garment with white cuffs and collar.
“When is Hortense going to finish your wardrobe?” he asked.
“You know about her?”
“Nan told me. And the whole story of the seamstress and Mary.”
She sighed. “It was a bit of nonsense,” she said. “Hortense is ready to do the final fittings sometime this week. Now tell me why you went to the cottage without me.”
“In light of our recent discussion, I thought it best to absent myself from your presence.”
“You sound pretentious when you’re annoyed.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Just like that,” she said, entering the room. “Are you annoyed?”
“No. Yes. Perhaps.”
She took the chair next to his desk and without asking permission, picked up the first of the cards in the pile.
“Mrs.McDermott?”
“I’m beginning with the household staff.”
