Page 22 of If the Duke Dares
He looked slightly surprised now, in fact. “Good evening, Miss Barclay. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you. Moll said you prefer to dine in your chamber.”
“Please call me Mrs. Birdwhistle.”
“Oh yes, I’d heard that was your alias.” He leaned closer, and she caught his scent of sandalwood and amber. “Where on earth did you come up with that name?”
“Mrs. Birdwhistle was my governess. I hold her in the highest esteem.”
“Then it is a grand name, indeed.”
Persephone didn’t want to have pleasant chitchat with him. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at yournicerinn?”
“So droll of you, but no. I’m lodging here now.”
She was surprised he would exchange his certainly well-appointed suite at the New Inn for whatever they’d given him here. “Are you spying on me?”
“I’m watching over you. There’s a difference.” He sounded smug.
“I’d rather you didn’t. Why don’t you watch over the maids instead? You seem to have become quite friendly with them.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m friendly with everyone. It is my amiable nature.”
She thought of the red-haired woman who’d taken the maids’ place. “One might even call it flirtatious.”
Aha! He could look discomfited! He shifted his gaze from her briefly, and the end of his mouth ticked barely down. “Er, yes. I’ve been called that a time or twenty.”
She arched a brow at him, murmuring, “Only twenty?”
His gaze moved over her. “You look lovely this evening.”
“There you go flirting again.” She couldn’t help thinking of one of the Rogue Rules: never flirt with a rogue. They made it difficult by constantly flirting themselves, but Persephone would not bend.
“Can’t I offer you a simple compliment?”
Was he hoping she would acknowledge his gifts? If he wasn’t going to make it clear they’d come from him, she wasn’t going to bring them up. “Thank you.”
“The color makes your eyes shine even more vividly.”
Was he just saying that to be flirtatious, or had he chosen the gown to complement her eyes? Given his thoughtfulness with the bedding, she had to wonder if he had indeed given the task more consideration than she would have expected from a scoundrel. Or perhaps matching gowns to eye color wasexactlywhat scoundrels did. She had no idea.
He went on, “I was hoping I could persuade you to dine here in the common room with me.”
“It’s…too noisy.” She’d been about to say too risky, but didn’t want to invite another offer from him to pay for her to lodge elsewhere.
“It is rather riotous. I could join you upstairs?”
She cocked her head to the side, recalling the rule to never be alone with a rogue. “That’s forward of you. Anyway, I only have one chair.” And the table was barely large enough for her dishes, let alone his too.
“I have two chairs at the table in my chamber. We could dine there,” he said with a great deal of charm and far too much assumption.
“No, thank you.” She was not breaking that rogue rule either. Again. She’d already spent enough time alone or mostly alone with him.
He moved closer to her and fixed her with a provocative stare. Then he pursed his lips into a faint pout. Good Lord, did this work with other women?
“Please reconsider,” he asked, somehow managing not to sound as though he were pleading. He seemed quite earnest, actually. Perhaps the pout wasn’t an act.
Of course it was! She could not afford to be swept away by his undeniable allure. “You can stop that,” she said more coldly than she’d intended. “Your flirtation won’t work with me.”
His pout pitched into a frown. “Not at all? People, women in particular, generally find me engaging. I thought you did too—when we first met in Gloucester. I felt an immediate connection to you, and I would have sworn you did too.”
