Page 26 of The Artisan and the Duke
With a laugh of her own, Jules agreed, “I will do my best, Your Grace.”
“You can feel free to call me Gregory when we are alone, Miss Kelley,” the Duke said graciously, which made Jules smile.
She nodded her head towards the man and said, “And you may call me by Jules or Julia.”
“I am privileged,” the Duke replied with a tip of his head and a smile.
Jules noticed the way the man tapped his fingers along the edge of the desk when he spoke, his long, lithe fingers moving like a pianist. She smiled at the man, unsure of when the conversation had stopped but not sure how to start it back up again. The Duke cleared his throat and said, “Would you care for a sandwich to tide you over?”
“I’m not hungry,” Jules said, and she saw a flash of worry on the man’s face. “I promise that I am very well, I simply do not feel hungry at this moment.”
The Duke nodded. “Then I should probably get back to the business at hand,” he said as he tapped a paper on his desk.
Jules took the man’s cue and rose. She sat her drink down on the tray. “I will see you at luncheon?” Jules asked the question and found herself hoping that she would see the man despite her reservations.
The Duke frowned slightly and said apologetically, “I am afraid that I will be out for the rest of the day. I have chores that require me to be elsewhere in the city.”
The answer was vague, but Jules was not so much curious about the man’s chores as she was just disappointed that he would be absent. “That’s a shame,” Jules said genuinely and met his eyes. “Be safe on your adventures,” she said quietly.
“I will endeavour to return in one piece,” the Duke assured her as he stood up to escort her to the door.
When the man held the door open, Jules slipped by the Duke, careful not to brush too close to the man. She just caught the spicy scent that always seemed to cling to the Duke.
She wondered what it was, and as she did, she hesitated for just a moment. Her eyes lifted to his, and she found him watching her intently. Jules blushed, quickly exited the room, and took herself with all due haste down the hall and away from the man.
***
Good to his word, Jules did not see the Duke for the rest of the day. When she enquired after him, she was informed by Lady St Claire that her son had had some business at one of the local prisons. Jules wondered if he had gone to see about the case against her guildmates, but she kept the question to herself.
That evening, Jules sat in front of the vanity allowing Sherry to unbraid and brush her hair. Her dark hair fell in lovely waves as the girl took apart the braids and began brushing Jules’ long hair out.
This would have been a totally foreign thing to Jules only a week ago, but now she felt it strangely relaxing as she was freed from the confines of her corset and hairpins for a night’s reprieve.
“I heard Lady St Claire talking to the Duke,” Sherry said conversationally. “Lady St Claire is most anxious for you to make your societal debut.”
Jules cringed. “Well, I am dreading being presented like a slab of pork at a picnic,” she said in disgust. “No wonder society is so far from the realities of the world. Is this really what they care about?”
“I find it exciting for you,” Sherry admitted. “The Duke is a fine catch, and you are sure to make several of the fancy ladies who had their eyes set on him very unhappy.”
Jules considered that and brightened. “That does make me look forward to it more,” Jules admitted with a grin.
Sherry giggled and blushed. “You are as bold a lady as I have ever known,” Sherry said with a shake of her head.
“Truth be told, my father raised me to be more like the boys in the yards than my mother raised a lady,” Jules admitted with a laugh. “Sometimes, I think I have lost the feeling for matters of a feminine nature.”
Sherry shrugged, “It may be that the Duke will help you remember some of those lessons. He is a handsome man, after all.”
“Sounds like you might be better off marrying him then,” Jules said, and then she laughed at the look on Sherry’s face. “I mean no offence, Sherry. I am just jesting.”
Sherry waved off Jules’ laughter. “Jests like that could land you in the kettle water with Lady St Claire,” Sherry warned.
“I know,” Jules said. She sighed. “I’m sorry to cause you grief. I consider you to be my friend, and I have never had many of those.”
Sherry’s expression softened as she picked up another section of Jules’ hair and began brushing it out. Sherry said softly, “I consider you a friend as well, and that’s why I hope that you and the Duke are able to make a true wedding of it. I think you’ll find him pleasant if given a chance.”
“I promise that I’ll try,” Jules said honestly. The thought of marrying the Duke had gone from ludicrous a few days ago to bearable, perhaps even more than bearable. Who’s to say how she might feel about it tomorrow? Jules smiled. “I’ll definitely try.”
***
