Page 15 of Secrets of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society 1)

Teeth gritted, he forced his gaze to remain on her face. As her brother’s friend, she trusted him. Hell, her whole family trusted him. Even Society would not blink at them being alone together in his carriage. He had to do better, be better. If she knew what he was thinking—

A tear trickled down her cheek and his gut clenched. “Oh Little Cassie, forgive me, I did not mean to scold...” He reached for her and drew her close.

He could not be certain if she sidled that way or if he drew her onto him, but she ended up in his lap with her head buried in the crook of his neck. Concentrating fiercely on maintaining control, he smoothed a hand up and down her back and cradled her head against him while she sniffled a few times before lifting her face to look at him.

“I am making a fine mess of everything,” she admitted.

“Can I help?”

She shook her head, biting down on her bottom lip.

“You know I would do anything for you, Cassie. Just say the word.”

“I know you would. You are a good friend.” She smiled softly and put a hand to his shoulder.

A friend. Yes. A friend who comforted, who protected. A friend who did not, for example, stroke a hand down the gentle slope of her back, feeling the little notches of her spine or the boning of her stays. A friend who didn’t meet her gaze and imagine something sparking there. Because that’s what it had to be, surely? His imagination.

Her lips parted, offering up that sweet cupid’s bow mouth as her chin tilted. “Luke,” she said softly.

“Yes?”

“Would you...would you kiss me?”

Here it was. The devil testing him. There was no other explanation. Whatever the reason behind the question, he could not bring himself to believe she really, truly wanted a kiss from him.

He gazed down at her, still cradling her head, his hand seeming huge compared to her delicate face. It reminded him of how vulnerable a position she had put herself in. She deserved more. Better. A prince with a fortune and palaces perhaps and someone who was not her brother’s best friend.

Swallowing hard, he uttered the words he suspected he might regret for the rest of his life, “I cannot.”

Chapter Six

With a grimace, Cassie tugged on the collar of the shirt. “We are getting new uniforms for our staff,” she declared. She ran a finger alongside the stiffly starched white shirt. “This fabric is unbearably itchy.”

Demeter shook her head. A tiny bunch of white heather tucked amongst her chignon swayed precariously. Cassie still had no idea what the flower meant. One day she would remember to read up on it.

“Anton will never say yes,” her sister said.

Cassie leaned forward and pressed hands to her hair. “Are you certain I look plain enough?”

Eleanor tweaked the bow of Cassie’s apron and stood back. “You will never be plain, Cassie. But you look like a servant.”

Cassie twisted this way and that, eyeing her reflection critically. The last time she had worn black had been after Uncle Simon died and she loathed every minute of it. However, the color and the ‘costume’ would aid her in her task tonight.

To get that wretched will once and for all.

After her last disastrous attempt and a moment of weakness with Luke that made her cheeks heat with humiliation when she thought on it, she had pondered hard on how best to get into the solicitors unnoticed.

Dressing as a maid seemed an obvious choice now and she had driven past the building six times this week. The watchman was a creature of habit and strolled down that road at exactly the same time every night. She would not make the same mistake twice and she would get that will.

“Are you certain this will work?” Demeter pressed a finger to her lips. “What if you run into danger? Maybe you should take the carriage?”

“I cannot. Our family crest alone will draw attention and I can hardly risk anyone else knowing of our activities.”

Eleanor shrugged. “It’s a logical plan. No one pays attention to servants and you have done your research.”

Cassie tried not to beam at what could be considered high praise from her sister. Eleanor’s mind worked at about ten times the pace of everyone else’s so if she deemed it a good plan, it must be.

“Precisely.”

---