Page 2 of The Moonstone Governess
Instead, he sighed and muttered, “Forgive my surliness. I have only a few weeks before my infant nephew and meddlesome mother arrive, and I have yet to find a suitable house in which to deposit them.”
Brenna wondered at that remark, as well.
One deposited bottles. Onesettledloved ones.
“Your mother might enjoy the Kestrel Inn for the lively company of its guests. But your nephew might not be as comfortable there, especially if he likes to run around or squawk loudly, as infants often do. There are many fine homes in the area, although I suppose very few of them are for sale or to let. Are you familiar with the Duke of Malvern? He and his family are settled at St. Austell Grange.”
He nodded. “We have met.”
“But you are not friends? I suppose you have also met the Marquess of Burness at Westgate Hall and Viscount Brennan, who resides at Moonstone Cottage? By your expression, I gather they are also acquaintances but not friends. Their wives are the Killigrew sisters, and you will not meet nicer, more welcoming ladies.”
“I do know them all, as you have probably heard. Is there a point you are trying to make?”
“I am just trying to determine what sort of house might appeal to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” That eyebrow of his shot up again, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. “Is it not obvious which house I want? Yours, Miss Angel.”
If he thought to intimidate her, he had failed. “What is so special about mine that you must suddenly have it? Not a single home has met with your approval, despite three years of searching.”
“How do you know how long I have been searching? I do not believe I mentioned it.”
She blushed, for not only had Mrs. Halsey gossiped about him, but so had Thaddius, numerous other members of her family, Mr. Priam—the local land agent—and practically everyone else in the village. Indeed, she had yet to hold a conversation with anyone since returning home that did not include him in it.
“One hears things here and there. You do not look happy that your family is about to join you. Why is that, Your Grace? Are you irritated they will impose on your indolent style of living? Children and parents are a blessing, I should think. I wish… Well, never mind. You would not care to hear about those dear to me.”
“On the contrary, Miss Angel. I am most eager to hear of your situation, since you are obviously leaping in with both feet to pass judgment on mine. I believe you charmingly called me indolent?”
She glanced up at him, knowing she ought to feel contrite about insulting him. But she did not. This man needed to be kept at a distance lest she unwittingly fall prey to his charms, which were considerable. That insult should have done it.
Curiously, he did not walk away in a privileged huff or dismiss her in anger. What did that signify? Not attraction, for why should a duke care a whit about her? Her cousin, Thaddius the innkeeper, thought the duke was quite an intelligent man.
He did have intelligent eyes that seemed to miss nothing. She found him interesting. A bit frightening for the aura of power that circled him much like the swirl of the sea breeze off the cove waters.
But she was still not sorry she had spoken out of turn.
Why was he suddenly so keen to acquire her home?
Who was he really?
Yes, she knew he had been a viscount and probably held additional titles, including his recent elevation to the title of duke. But what did anyone really know abouthim? Despite his coming here every summer for the past three years, there was not a single person in the village who could call him a friend, not even those who were his peers. This was entirely his own doing, because everyone in Moonstone Landing was friendly, especially the Killigrew sisters and the noblemen they had married. They were all now happily settled in their fine homes on the heights overlooking the village.
Brenna’s was a fine home, too. Nothing as grand as the others, but still quite beautiful, and hers possessed the finest view in all of Moonstone Landing—especially at this time of year, when those red poppies swept through the fields down to the sea.
They captivated him, too. She could tell by the way he had been looking out across them with an unguarded expression of longing.
What was he longing for?
Or was he pining for a person? Someone he cherished? Or had lost years ago?
Brenna let out a breath, ready to make a goodwill gesture and tell him a little about herself, even though she doubted he cared. He would quickly dismiss her as deadly dull by hishaut-mondestandards. After all, she was a person of no importance.
It did not matter that her cousin, Cara Angel, had fallen in love and married the Duke of Strathmore. Thetonwas still reeling from that scandal—not that Cara or her duke cared, for theirs was a love match.
She hoped for a love match, too.
However, she knew better than to look above herself. This handsome duke would not consider her fit for anything other than serving as his mistress.
The lout.
