Page 28 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
Rose glanced self-consciously at her drab skirts. ‘Really, I couldn’t impose on your generosity.’
‘Nonsense. You must and you will, for I cannot have my companion looking as if she is underpaid. People will think me a nip-farthing and that I cannot allow.’
‘People?’
‘Well, there are bound to be callers now we have put off black gloves. And morning calls when you are up to snuff.’
The look on Rose’s face said she thought that would never happen. He wanted to grin at her, or chuck her under the chin; instead he simply nodded his agreement.
Grandmama turned on him with a sly smile and a gleam in her eye. ‘It is certainly time the new Duke took up that side of his duties. He needs to find a bride.’
Jacob’s stomach sank to his shoes. Blast the woman. He’d been hoist by his own petard. But he could see from his grandmother’s determined expression that if he wanted to haul Rose out of that dreadful slum, he was going to have to bow to his grandmother’s wishes in this matter. He should have guessed she’d turn matters to her own advantage.
He became aware of Rose watching him with an air of hope. Hope he would turn his grandmother down, no doubt.
‘I shall look forward to it.’
* * *
Warily Rose edged into the stables at the back of the house and passed the first stall. The beast with its head hanging over the halfdoor was enormous. Terrifying. It rolled its brown eyes and blew a hay-scented breath in her direction. Where was the blasted man?
These past few days had moved far too fast for Rose’s comprehension. Her Grace had swept her along on a tide of dressmakers, milliners and hairdressers, not to mention shoemakers and assorted other tradesmen indispensable to the companion of a duchess. The worst part of it all was not understanding why Westmoor, as she was now to call him, really wanted her to take this position. Nor why a footman followed her all the while like a lost puppy, making privacy impossible.
When she had tried to send the young man about his business, he had looked anxious. Her Grace’s orders, he had said. In case she became lost.
Only until she knew her way about, Her Grace had informed her, when she had asked. For example, did she know she was not to visit a gentleman alone? Should a lady ever, even by chance, you understand, be alone with a gentleman, then the door was to remain open at all times with a footman hovering a few feet away.
As ifshewas some sort of lady.
Finally, she had tracked the Duke down. After seeing him from her chamber window return from his morning ride, she had slipped out of the house by the side door and made her way to the stables.
She inched past the hind end of another large animal, this one nosing around in its manger. To her relief, the next stall contained the man she sought. She blinked. Busy grooming a horse, he had not noticed her presence and she paused, not sure if she dared interrupt. She’d heard much about the eccentricities of the nobility, but this menial work seemed a little odd, even for a duke who owned the most disreputable gentleman’s club in London.
Coatless, with his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows displaying strong forearms dusted with dark hair, she had an excellent perspective of a pair of broad shoulders displayed to advantage. And a delicious view of a muscular rear end as he brushed the horse’s glossy brown coat with long sweeping motions. Her insides clenched. Warmth suffused her skin.
She ought to close her eyes or turn away, she really ought, but she stood silently burning up inside, watching the elegant strength of him. Longing crept through her, as it did every time she encountered this man, despite the way he kept his distance.
The way she felt around him did not seem to lessen with familiarity, either. The more she saw of him, the more attractive she found him. Never before had she been so tempted by a man. It was the reason for her need to speak with him. To hand in her notice. She had to leave before she was overcome by desire.
Thank heavens he was not the least affected by her presence. When he noticed her at all, he seemed coolly amused.
The thought gave her courage.
‘Your Grace?’ It came out more of a whisper than actual words. She swallowed the dryness and tried again. Louder. ‘Your Grace.’
He swung around, his eyebrows climbing to hide beneath the lock of dark hair that had fallen forward over his forehead. Something flashed in his eyes, gone too fast for her to be sure what it meant. The sweat trickling from his temple and trailing down his cheek riveted her attention. A sudden urge to taste that trail with her tongue stole her breath and left her speechless.
‘Miss Nightingale.’ His dark brows crashed down. ‘What are you doing out here?’ He seemed to be looking around for someone else. ‘You should not be out here alone.’
The horse stamped an enormous hoof and she leapt backwards.
He patted the animal. ‘Steady, boy,’ he said gently, soothingly. ‘You’ll get your turn. Right now we have a guest.’
He gave her an encouraging smile, causing dimples to appear each side of his mouth, and her stomach to flutter. ‘Old Sev, here, thinks I should be paying attention to him, instead of talking to you.’
She steeled herself against his charm. ‘If you hide from him, the way you hide from me, it is no wonder.’
The frown returned. ‘I do not hide from you, Miss Nightingale. I see you at dinner when I am home. And in the drawing room afterwards. I very much enjoyed your reading from Gray’s “Elegy” the other evening.’
