Page 64 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Their butler, Burton, came through their small dining room and into the sitting room. “Lady Parnell, Miss Parnell has a caller.”
Grandmama dropped her knitting needles and snapped her attention to Lucy, beaming. “It must be Edgecombe!”
Lucy, her legs starting to protest from her crouched position, stood and smoothed her hand over her skirt. She considered things she might say to Edgecombe to discourage him.
Burton glanced at Lucy briefly before returning his full attention to Grandmama. “It’s Lord Dartford, my lady.”
Every muscle in Lucy’s body tensed. What the devil was he doing here? She looked at Grandmama, who was squinting up at the butler. “Dartford?” She swung her head to look at Lucy. “Why is he calling on you?”
For a moment, Lucy couldn’t answer. All she could think to say was a litany of things she couldnotsay. At last she found her tongue. “I’m not certain. We danced at Lady Colne’s.”
Grandmama sat up straight. “I’d forgotten about that.” She waved a hand at the butler. “Show him in.”
Lucy smoothed a hand over the back of her hair and glanced down at her day dress. Her wardrobe was a bit lacking, and this was one of her older gowns. Ah well, she didn’t really care what he thought of her. She tilted her chin up, prepared to send him on his way as soon as possible.
But then he walked into the drawing room, and her knees went weak. She wanted to blame it on having crouched down next to Grandmama, but she knew that wasn’t the reason.
He wore a dark blue coat and tawny trousers tucked into glossy black boots. His hair was swept back from his brow, save a solitary lock grazing his forehead in rebellion. His dark eyes found hers, but only briefly. He turned to Grandmama and offered a deep bow.
“I regret that we have not been formally introduced, my lady. Please forgive my intrusion.”
Grandmama smiled, her cheeks turning pink, as she regarded him. “It is our pleasure to receive you, even if it is a bit indecorous.” She fluttered her eyelids, and if Lucy didn’t know better, she’d say her grandmother was flirting.
Andrew grinned in response, and Lucy nearly groaned. He was far too attractive when he wasn’t smiling, and then when he did so, it was as if the sun was shining on you alone. Grandmama would forget all about Edgecombe after this.
Lucy wished he hadn’t come. “To what do we owe your visit?” She considered tapping her foot to demonstrate her impatience but decided against it. Grandmama would only ask her to stop and then frown at her in perturbed disappointment.
“I hoped we might take a stroll, perhaps in your garden.” He looked past her to the doors leading to the very small patio and garden behind the town house. He could likely see that a walk in their garden would take all of about two minutes. And that was if they moved very slowly. “Or we could just stay here.”
“Why don’t you walk over to Devonshire House and back?” Grandmama suggested. “Take your maid with you.”
Andrew looked at her expectantly. Lucy looked at him with disdain.
“Burton,” Grandmama called, “fetch Lucy’s maid, and have her bring Lucy a hat and gloves.”
There was no avoiding it, apparently. Fine, she’d go on the bloody walk so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him.
Grandmama gestured for Andrew to move farther into the room. “Dartford, I don’t believe I’ve seen you much in Society. What do you do to keep yourself busy?”
“I’ve quite a number of hobbies, my lady.” He glanced toward Lucy, a hint of mischief in his eye. “I’ve acquired the nickname of the Duke of Daring.”
Lucy did groan then, but softly so that Grandmama wouldn’t hear her.
Grandmama appeared nonplussed. “But you’re not a duke.”
He laughed. “That’s what I said. Nevertheless, that’s what it is.”
“What does that even mean, ‘daring’?” Grandmama peered up at him. “What are your interests?”
Lucy leapt into the conversation, eager to show Grandmama that he was not the sort of gentleman she ought to champion. “Racing, gambling, swimming, and most recentlyballooning.” She said the last word with an angry edge.
Grandmama blinked at him, her expression rapt. “You ascended in a balloon?”
“I did. Last week.”
Grandmama’s eyes lit. “How wonderful! If I were twenty years younger, I’d love to fly among the clouds.” Her gaze turned wistful.
Andrew chuckled again. “Perhaps you should be the Duchess of Daring.”
