Page 27 of The English Duke
“Much better, Your Grace. Thank you for your concern. And thank you, as well, for your hospitality. Everyone on your staff has been exceedingly kind and gracious.”
He inclined his head. “Is there anything they haven’t done? Is there anything you need?”
“Nothing at all,” Gran said, smiling. “Except time, perhaps. Dr. Reynolds said I should rest for a few more days. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do so.”
He nodded, his face still not revealing what he felt. The expression struck Martha as being ducal, but he hadn’t been reared for the role. He’d been a naval officer when he’d met her father. Had he commanded men? Had he been aboard ship?
She really should quell her curiosity about him.
“I’m afraid my confinement is tiresome for my granddaughters,” Gran continued to Martha’s horror.
“Unfortunately, we have no entertainments planned at Sedgebrook,” the duke said.
Gran smiled. “Then perhaps they could join you and Mr. Burthren for dinner.”
She couldn’t look at her grandmother. Nor could she glance at the duke. Josephine, however, didn’t have any such reservations. Her sister sauntered over to the end of the bed, only feet from where the duke stood.
“What a pleasure that would be, Your Grace,” she purred, lowering her voice until it was a throaty contralto.
Martha almost rolled her eyes. She’d seen Josephine’s behavior around men. It always reminded her of a cat’s insistent charm just before it was fed.
She glanced at Hero still sunning himself. The cat lifted his head and returned her look. He seemed to raise one eyebrow as if to ridicule her concerns.
“Then perhaps you and your sister could join us for dinner,” the duke said, bowing slightly.
Josephine smiled while Martha wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
“Miss York, were you able to speak to Frederick?” he asked Martha.
“Not yet,” she said. “But I shall in a few minutes.”
He nodded. “Then I’ll expect you at the boathouse later,” he said, turning to leave.
The minute the door closed behind him, Josephine rounded on her.
“What did he mean, Martha?” Josephine asked.
Twin lines formed between Josephine’s brows. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned until they almost disappeared in her face. Any one of her many admirers would be surprised to see her now.
“I’m going to help him with his ship,” Martha said. “It’s what Father would have wanted.”
“Gran,” Josephine said, turning to their grandmother, “you can’t allow this. It’s scandalous. She and the duke will be alone. In the boathouse.”
“If it makes you feel better, Josephine,” Martha said, annoyed, “I’ll ask for a footman to be in attendance. Would that satisfy your sense of decorum?”
She knew exactly why her sister was upset. She was going to be with the Duke of Roth and Josephine wasn’t. But there was a difference between them. She had no intention of trying to charm the duke.
Besides, she wasn’t Josephine. She wasn’t as attractive. Nor did she have an affinity for flirting.
“I’ll go with you,” Josephine said, her smile once more restored. “I’m better than a footman.”
Martha stared at her sister. The duke wouldn’t be pleased. Unless, of course, she could convince Josephine to sit there in silence. Josephine would fill the air with chatter. If not about herself, then how dark the boathouse was, how much it smelled of the water, how boring she thought the silence was.
Perhaps her thoughts were unsisterly. Even more disturbing was the idea that maybe she’d been wrong. Perhaps she wanted to try to charm the duke after all.
Chapter 9
“Why are we going this way?” Josephine asked.
