Page 34 of Every Duke Has His Thorn
She thought she heard voices, but when she entered the kitchen, it was to find Anne alone.
The maid fairly jumped when she saw Marina. Putting a hand over her heart, the maid said breathlessly, “Oh, miss! You gave me a fright!”
“I’m sorry, Anne.” She looked about the empty room. “Are you alone? I thought I heard voices.”
“Probably just me grumbling to myself. Today is Cook’s half day, so I’m to get dinner by myself.” The young woman’s cheeks were red, and she still looked a bit flustered.
“My father and I are perfectly able to make a meal,” Marina replied with a laugh. “We’re not so high in the instep as all that.”
Anne shook her head. “Cook left a nice rabbit stew warming on the new cast iron stove. All I have to do is bake the rolls. There is also a nice pound cake with fruit for your sweet.”
“If you’re sure, Anne? I don’t mind helping you.”
The girl made shooing motions with her hands. “I can get dinner. You go relax in the drawing room. I’ll be along shortly with a fresh pot of tea and some of Cook’s ginger biscuits.”
Although she was sure she’d heard a male voice along with Anne’s, there was no sign of anyone else in the kitchen.
“Thank you, Anne,” she said as she left the room.
Seated in the drawing room, she had a moment to think about Lady Barton’s abrupt manner in the drawing room. The behavior should have irritated her but it didn’t. She liked the woman. She’d spoken with Marina as an equal, had respected her opinion on the clues to the treasure.
If she would admit it, the duke had also been nice to her. Mostly. It wasn’t his fault she found him so attractive. She didn’t want to like him, but she couldn’t help herself.
Anne entered the room with a tea tray. “I forgot to tell you your father said he would be busy at the hall until supper.”
“Thank you, Anne. I believe today is also Mr. Brooks’s half day?”
“Oh yes, miss. I’d best be getting back to the kitchen.”
The maid hurriedly left the room.
Marina poured herself a cup of tea and sampled a ginger biscuit before opening the project ledger and looking over the drawings and notes she’d assembled. Her mind kept wandering to the next clue.
Perhaps if she concentrated on something else for a while, she could return to the clue with a fresh eye.
The second volume of The Works in Architecture of Robert and James Adam rested on the table before her. She had yet to make it through the ponderous volume. It was just the thing to get her brain thinking on a different tack.
* * * * *
When Preston entered the library, it was to find his aunt seated at his desk, the family history in hand.
He took a seat on one of the leather arm chairs.
Her eyes on the book open in front of her, his aunt asked, “You trust Miss Davies with the clues to the treasure?”
“Her father also knows about the poem. I don’t think there is anything to it but it is nice to have help deciphering the clues. I would have never gotten the first clue without Miss Davies’ help.”
His aunt looked up briefly. He’d kept his tone matter of fact. The lady looked down again. She turned pages until she reached the one where he’d slotted in the paper containing the poem.
She removed the original poem from the ledger and glanced over it. “The handwriting isn’t familiar. Perhaps we can match it to one of the entries written by a past duchess.”
“That is an excellent idea.”
“Perhaps it will make up for my speaking to Miss Davies about her grandmother?” she asked dryly.
He was silent a moment. “I apologize for my rude behavior. Forgive me.”
“You like the girl. You didn’t want her upset.”
