Page 13 of The Moonstone Governess
Since the hour was nearing two o’clock, Daire strode up the high street to the land agent’s office. Mr. Priam had his curricle hitched and was waiting for him to climb in before he flicked the reins and they headed to Brenna’s manor. “What about Miss Angel?” Daire asked.
“Oh, I am certain she is there already. She likes to walk. It gives her time to think, she claims. In my opinion, she thinks an awful lot but does not seem to resolve anything.”
“Mr. Priam, that is unfair. You know she is the sentimental sort, and it must be quite hard for her to part with this beautiful property, even if it is only for a few months.”
The man eyed Daire curiously. “You seem to know an awful lot about her, Your Grace.”
“I make it my business to know whom I am dealing with.”
“Ah, then you’ve heard she is also contemplating an offer of marriage.”
Daire’s heart leaped into his throat. “I’ve heard some conflicting accounts.”
This was an outright lie, for no one had mentioned Brenna having a beau until this very moment. Why would this be kept from him when the entire village must have known of it? Not a blessed soul could control their mouths about anything, so why fail to bring up the fact she had a beau?
The fellow could not be much of a man if he had not even kissed her. Or if he had, it had been a botched affair, for Daire would wager his dukedom that Brenna had not been kissed in a romantic way before this morning.
“What do you know about him, Mr. Priam?”
And how was it possible a girl as beautiful as her had never been properly kissed? Perhaps those seven uncles had scared the lads off. But those uncles had not been with her in Oxford.
“Well, Your Grace, it is not my place to say.” Mr. Priam looked straight ahead and flicked the reins again to hurry his old bay up the small hill toward the house.
“But say it anyway, Mr. Priam. It is pertinent information. Not that I care about the gentleman, but Miss Angel’s feelings for him will certainly affect her decisions regarding Stoningham Manor. Who is he?”
“I hear he is an Oxford professor. Quite respected in his field.”
“And what might that field be?”
“Oh, that I do not know. I’m sure Miss Angel will tell you if you to ask her.”
Daire doubted she would open up to him and discuss something this personal. But he would do his best to draw her out in casual conversation. Why was she determined to hold on to this house if her beau truly meant to marry her? A full professorship at Oxford University had to be much coveted, and this fellow of hers was not likely to give it up to reside in some out-of-the-way village in Cornwall, such as Moonstone Landing.
If this man was indeed serious, did Brenna feel the same about him?
The possibility made Daire’s stomach churn.
Brenna was already at the house, standing in wait on the front steps as they rattled up the overgrown drive in the jouncing curricle. Daire did not take his gaze off her the entire time, soaking in the uncommon beauty of her face and that sweet body of hers. She would hit him again if she suspected what he was thinking.
But how could he not ache over her? This girl sparkled. The air fairly crackled around her because she had so much vitality. That she should settle for a staid Oxford professor who did not know how to kiss her properly would be a gross injustice.
“Blast,” he said quietly, raking a hand through his hair.
“Your Grace, did you say something?” Mr. Priam glanced at him as they drew up in front of the house.
“No, merely thinking aloud.” Why should Daire care whom she chose to marry? He’d only met the girl this morning.
It was mad to care, but he did, and his stomach was churning again.
Botheration.
What was it about Brenna Angel he found so fascinating?
Chapter Four
Brenna tried tomaintain a calm façade as she showed the Duke of Claymore through her home. She had brought along a small writing journal and a graphite to jot down details that would go into the lease. “Three broken windows.”
“I’ll have those repaired,” the duke said, examining them closer.
