Page 32 of The Artisan and the Duke
The Duke leaned over and whispered to Jules with a grin, “Because he wanted to succeed my father, never mind that that is not at all how it works.”
“He had to be prepared for that,” Jules said with a shake of her head. “After all, succession is always the eldest son when it comes to titles. Is it not?”
The Duke nodded and said, “It is indeed. The title will transfer again on my death to my eldest son.”
The thought of children made warmth rise to Jules’ cheeks. She turned her head away from the Duke so he would not see. She fanned herself to help the colour go away. “It’s very warm this morning, isn’t it?”
The Duke pondered the question. He eyed her curiously then smiled in that infuriating way that he had. “I can’t say it is too warm. Are you too warm, Miss Kelley?”
“I’m fine,” Jules assured the Duke.
The man, however, seemed to have caught onto her plight and had no intention of letting her out of it gracefully. “It is odd that you seemed fine before the mention of children. I should have thought that you of all people would like children. You seem very attached to your sisters, after all.”
“I like children as well as anyone,” Jules said through gritted teeth.
The man’s blond hair slid across his shoulders as he leaned his head to the side to eye her curiously. That was when Jules noticed that his hair was not pulled back as it normally was. She eyed the blond strands. “Miss Kelley, are you listening to me?”
Jules blinked. “What did you say?”
“I was enquiring if the problem was specifically to do with having children with me?” The Duke eyed her expectantly.
To give herself a moment, Jules cleared her throat and furrowed her eyebrows as if really considering what the man had said. “Maybe it is,” Jules said. Then she gave up and asked, “Why is your hair down?”
The Duke laughed jovially. “We are talking about the fact that you find me so repulsive that you cannot bear the thought of having children with me, and you are concerned with my hair?”
“I never said you were repulsive,” Jules said defensively then sighed at the merriment in the man’s eyes. “Go on and soothe your ego, Your Grace, but I know all too well what men of your stature consider sport.”
The man frowned. “What would that be?”
“I have seen you out on the streets, Your Grace,” Jules reminded the man. She put her hands on her hips. “I am from the streets of London. I have seen what men do when they visit the slums. There are plenty of unfortunate women who are more than happy to accommodate them.”
The change in the Duke was instantaneous. Jules wondered for a moment if the man might grab her as he came to a sudden stop at her words. “I know you do not think well of my peers,” the Duke ground out, “but if you think that true of me, then perhaps this ruse should stop here.”
Jules felt her stomach drop. She refused to back down. She had been defensive and lashed out at the man, but he had also been at fault. “If that is what you wish, Your Grace, then who am I to stop you?” Jules said to the man firmly.
They stood there a moment before the Duke grabbed her arms and pulled her close to him. Jules gasped. Surely the man did not intend to harm her here in the hallway. The next moment, the man released her before he turned and walked away.
Jules leaned against the wall and stared after the Duke, bewildered by his words and actions. Although the man had done her no real harm, the look in his eyes had left her shaken. She might die of a heart attack before she made sense out of The Duke of Thornton, Jules feared.
Chapter 7
As much as Gregory hated his uncle, he felt his presence keenly unbearable in light of what had transpired between himself and Miss Kelley. He had meant the young woman no harm when he grabbed her.
In fact, it had been quite the opposite. She had tested his patience several times before, but hearing her coldly agreeing to break their betrothal had brought him far too close to showing the young woman exactly what he wished their relationship could be.
“If it isn’t The Duke of Thornton, in the flesh,” his Uncle Lawrence called from where the man was sitting and eating breakfast with Gregory’s mother.
Lady St Claire pressed her lips together in disdain for the blusterous man who sat across from her. “Gregory, dear, where is Miss Kelley?”
Gregory said, “She’s probably still getting ready. I am certain she will be down soon.”
“I am most interested in meeting her,” Gregory’s uncle said with enthusiasm that made Gregory eye the man suspiciously.
There was a movement behind Gregory, and Miss Kelley swept into the room and gave Lady St Claire a smile. “Forgive me for being tardy; I was just washing up,” Miss Kelley and Gregory caught her eye for just a moment.
He could see the defiance in the young woman’s brown eyes, and he grimaced inside, but perhaps she would not break the engagement with her uncle in-house.
Lady St Claire gave Miss Kelley a warm smile. “Nothing to forgive. I think rather that Mister St Claire should apologize to the household for getting us up so early.” The stare Lady St Claire gave Gregory’s uncle was pointed and cold.
