Page 30 of A Rakish Duke's Rules for Love

“Why?”

“I want to test yourperceptive and astutemind,” he smirked enigmatically. “I’ll be home by four.”

“I’ll come,” she replied, her eyes tracing over his face. “Safe travels home, Gabriel.”

Tipping his hat, he left, and she stood and watched as he boarded the carriage, wondering what he meant by that. Turning away, she caught Margaret ducking away, her face red—from spying, Anastasia was sure. Reminding herself to tell her cousin it was all right, Ana went to say good night to her parents.

Her mother was in the small antechamber of their bedroom, brushing out her hair. The moment Theodora saw Ana, she dropped the brush, her face twisting into worry. “Ana, dear heart, is what your father said is true? Is he truly a rake?”

“They say so, mother,” Ana replied, “but he is not a bad man. Believe me, his life has been a bit… challenging, and I know you’ll say its young naiveté, but I truly care for him, and I see something inside him that many do not.”

Still, her mother did not look comforted, but Anastasia pressed her point, “If I hadn’t found some virtue in him mother, I would have never allowed him to court me. Please stop worrying.”

“She’s right, dear,” Simon said while coming into the room. “And while we do trust you, Ana, and we also feel that anyone deserves a second chance, no matter their past, if you feel overwhelmed or tricked at any time, you will leave. Understood?”

“I do, father,” she replied while going to hug him. “I know you want the best for me, and I will do what is right.”

“That is all I ask,” Simon hugged her tightly. “Now, sweet dreams, dear.”

Anastasia had set off to Gabriel’s after her parents had left for their home in Chilham Kent the next morning, a twos days’ journey at least. The sky was not inviting the next afternoon with its cross, gray clouds on the horizon, but Anastasia didn’t mind it. She was from the country—the rain didn’t scare her.

Gabriel’s mysterious words still made her wonder, and when she arrived at his home with Marianne behind her, the butler let her in with a smile. “His Grace is in his library. Please, follow me.”

She arrived at the library to see Gabriel in his shirtsleeves with no cravat or jacket, just a shirt and gold waistcoat with piles of books on the tables and chess set on another table.

He looked up, “Thank you, Richards. Please send up a tray of refreshments.”

Smoothing the skirts under her, Anastasia asked, “What is all this? Does it have to do with me beingperceptive and astute?”

Smirking, Gabriel leaned forward. “Before me, I have a copy of every play Shakespeare has written from Love’s Labor’s Lost to Henry the Eighth. I want you, my dear bluestocking, to stack them in the order they were published.”

Before agreeing, Anastasia asked, “And the rules are the same for the chess game?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Play the game, and I will tell you why.” He grinned while flicking a pocket watch. “I will be timing you.”

Snorting, Anastasia went to the stacks and began to flick open the covers and make piles. Gabriel had poured himself a glass of wine and was leaning into his chair with a smirk.

“Five minutes, sweetheart,” he announced.

“I know,” she replied while stacking and restacking the books. “My memory is a bit…blurry.”

A maid came with a tray and soon departed while Anastasia debated with two books, a consumed frown embedding itself in her face. Gabriel stood and came to her back, his breath coasting over her neck while his chest rested on her back. “Need some help, sweetling?”

“Is your help free, or does it come with a caveat?”

“Free.”

“Is Edward the Third after Richard the Third, or is it before?” she murmured. “I cannot remember.”

He reached around her body and plucked Richard the Third from her hands. “Edward was first, sweet.”

When he retook his seat, Anastasia mourned the loss of his feel against her, but she resumed stacking.

“Twelve minutes, dear.”

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