Page 8 of Moonstone Angel
He eyed her with astonishment and something else in his gaze she did not quite understand. Goodness, this man simply devastated her senses. Perhaps Lady Yvonne felt this way about him, too.
Had she been too quick to judge the London beauty harshly?
What if Lady Yvonne did love the duke?
Well, he wasn’t going to give her hastily tossed, ill-mannered opinions of the society diamond any credence.
But Cara quietly resolved to curb her tongue and be more careful in what she said.
She hurried to the kitchen to let Mildred know to expect her cousin with a large delivery. “Let me see to Duchess Anne, then I’ll come back and help you set the table.”
“Thank you, Miss Cara.”
But Mildred looked perplexed.
“What’s wrong?”
“You see, I had hoped to leave early tonight. My husband and I were married on this day twenty years ago. I thought…no, it doesn’t matter. He will understand.”
“Nonsense. I’m so sorry, I forgot. Of course, you must go home to him. Just help me put things in order and then go. I’ll finish up the rest on my own tonight.”
“But the duke—”
“Will just have to manage like the rest of us. It is fine. He’ll have time to spend alone with his grandmother while I clean up. He won’t notice a thing different.”
“Thank you, Miss Cara.” Mildred gave her a hug.
Cara went off to help Duchess Anne.
She knocked lightly at her partially open door. “How are you doing?”
“Quite well, my dear. Here, come help me with my earbobs. I think my hair needs a light brushing, too.”
She took the brush, ran it gently through the duchess’s thinning, gray strands, and pinned them up prettily. Then she helped put the teardrop pearls to the lobes of her ears. “Shall I fetch a shawl for you? The robin’s egg blue, I think. It brings out the blue in your eyes.”
The duchess laughed. “My dear, I am an old lady, and no man is going to be enticed by me whatever the color of my shawl. But blue it shall be because I think it is your favorite.”
Cara shook her head. “What matters is what you like best. But it is perfect for this time of year. Shall we see if your grandson is ready and awaiting us in the parlor?”
“Yes, indeed.”
It turned out he had washed up, changed his clothes, and was standing with his legs slightly apart and arms crossed over his chest while staring out a parlor window, his gaze on the sea.
“Nice view,” he said, turning to face her as she escorted his grandmother to the sofa.
“Yes, it is.” She smiled. “I love it. Just wait until sunset. You won’t find anything so breathtaking in London. The sea begins to sparkle, as though diamonds have been tossed upon it. And the sky—”
“Duly noted, Cara. You can stop making your case for Moonstone Landing. I’ll make my own decisions about the place. I don’t need you carping about it.”
“Carping?” Her smile faded and turned into a frown.
Had she started to soften toward him?
He was still an insufferable clot.
“I was merely making conversation. But I suppose there is no talking to you.” She turned to his grandmother. “Will you excuse me a moment, Duchess Anne? I think I hear Wills coming up the walk with our supplies. I’ll leave you in the care of your grandson while I put together our supper. You must forgive me, but I can only take him in small doses.”
She felt his grin at her back as she started for the kitchen.
