Page 34 of The Phantom Duke
Drayford chuckled, an unusual sight. “Your Grace, you worry overly! I cannot think what kind of person would expend so much money and have malicious intentions. It would be a rather expensive grudge.”
Had she not justtoldhim what manner of man? Maria’s pulse jumped. She considered arguing the point further, but it was apparent that Drayford was not taking her concerns seriously. And why would he? The situation sounded absurd!
“But you will take it to the board, and it will be voted upon?” Maria asked.
“Of course, as per our constitution,” Drayford said.
“And may I speak to the board first?” Maria said, urgently.
Drayford frowned, seeming uncertain. “That is your privilege, Your Grace. Are you suggesting you would counsel against acceptance?”
He sounded aghast. Maria tried to think about how best to frame her concerns, so he might listen.
“I simply wish to ensure that every possibility has been considered. That you are not, effectively, selling the house and land to someone who will make something other than an orphanage out of it and evict the children,” Maria said.
Drayford nodded thoughtfully, frowning and regarding her with sharp eyes.
“Why would your father want to evict children?” he asked in plaintive wonder.
Because he is a very cruel old man who does not like it when I stand up to him.
Maria stood for a long moment, looking up at the dark, towering edifice of Winterleigh. A cloudy sky framed it, the perfect accompaniment to its air of silence and neglect. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. Maria was about to step into the realm of the duke, and she did not know what would happen once she was inside.
I will be within his power. I know very little about what manner of man he is, but I do know that his very presence makes my knees tremble, and he wants to…
She stopped her line of thought as her mouth dried, and her cheeks flamed. Even the thought of him left her flushed and unsteady.
I will not be helpless. I will be as fierce as a Valkyrie and match him glare for glare.
The doors opened, and she saw Damien. He filled the doorway, one massive oak door in each hand, swinging them wide as though they were made of paper. Her heartbeat quickened at the raw strength he showed. It was otherworldly, almost enough to make her wonder if she had married a man at all.
“Welcome, Duchess,” he said as she approached.
“Your Grace, thank you for greeting me,” Maria said formally.
“You do not appear to have a child in tow,” Damien said, wryly.
She stepped up to him, giving him the choice of blocking her entry or stepping aside. He remained where he was, looking down at her with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I would not bring Gilbert to such a monstrous residence without preparing it first.”
“Monstrous?” Damien chuckled, his eyes boring into her as if he was trying to memorize every line of her face.
It was not an unpleasant experience. She felt naked before those eyes, and it quickened her pulse. This close, she could appreciate his handsome, if rugged, looks without being caught staring. This close, she could look nowhere else.
There was a nobility to his face that was not marred by the mask. His eyes were expressive, and though he rarely smiled, she thought she could detect the changes in his expression that would be laughter for another man.
Finally, he stepped aside, and Maria crossed the threshold. A portly woman with a round, beaming face and laughter-creased eyes stood just inside, holding a silver tray on which there was a crystal goblet of red wine.
“Welcome to Winterleigh, Your Grace. I am Mrs. Whitby, your housekeeper. We’ve met before, when you… you suffered from a head injury.”
“Good day to you, Mrs. Whitby. Of course, I remember you. I am glad that there is someone in this house who knows how to smile!”
Mrs. Whitby’s smile slipped as she glanced anxiously at her master. Maria did likewise, arching an eyebrow. Her heart thumped, wondering if she had taken the joke too far by teasing in front of a servant.
Damien stared back impassively, making Maria feel that he had stripped away her outer layers to gaze into her soul. She stared back, refusing to be the first to look away. His lip twitched, and Maria felt a surge of triumph.
“Please, accept this as a welcome,” Mrs. Whitby said, gesturing with the tray.
