Page 9 of If Not for the Duke

“That certainly adds another layer of difficulty.” Sterling had considered the risks before buying the land, and he had set a limit to how much he was willing to spend. After all, the treasure hunt was more of a lark to please Bernie than an investment. She’d had few pleasures in her life and asked for nothing. It seemed the least he could do.

He hadn’t announced that he was the one who owned the newly formed Oak Island Company. Not even his fellow members of the Society knew. Soon, perhaps.

First, he wanted the dig to be well underway.

The man he’d hired to manage the search, Walter Clarke, was a seasoned treasure hunter with several successful missions to his credit. Whether he’d manage to find anything when David Wright hadn’t remained to be seen. However, Sterling was convinced that new technology would yield results of some sort. He also had more funds at his disposal than Wright had.

How would the lovely Miss Wright react when she learned the news? Would she sever her budding friendship with Bernie?

“Could I see the letters?” Miss Wright asked.

“Of course.” Bernie popped up as if on a spring. “I’ll return with them directly.”

Sterling watched her hurry from the room. “Forgive my sister’s enthusiasm. You are the first person other than me to express interest in the topic.”

He watched Miss Wright’s gaze shift toward where Aunt Edith had sat, but she had left soon after he arrived. “My aunt doesn’t approve of Bernie’s interest in Oak Island. She doesn’t think it’s ladylike.”

He rose and joined Miss Wright on the settee, noting the slight widening of her eyes at his nearness. But he didn’t want Bernie to hear when he made it clear that neither he nor his sister were to be toyed with. “Are you truly interested in seeing the letters, or was that a ploy to have a moment alone with me?”

Her mouth gaped at his question, her shock clear. “You cannot be serious.” She jerked to her feet, so he stood as well. “Why on earth would I want to be alone with you?”

He took a step closer, though her reaction seemed to confirm she wasn’t trying to catch his attention. Or if she was, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. There had been no blatant flattery. No fluttering of lashes or attempt at shyness.

In place of any of that was outrage. The emotion lit her eyes and tinted her cheeks a lovely pink. Her chest heaved with pent-up anger. All of that was incredibly appealing.

“Thus far,” he began, watching Miss Wright intently, “the ladies who profess to like Bernie have one thing on their mind.”

“Marrying a duke?” Miss Wright’s chin lifted. “You have no cause to believe that of me.”

“Perhaps not. But past experiences suggest that is the reason you’re here.” He drew closer still, noting the quickening of his own senses at their proximity with surprise. He dismissed the reaction. Surely it was only a result of the game he played.

“I can assure you that is notmypurpose.” She took a step nearer and glared at him with defiance shining in her eyes.

Damn if he didn’t find that incredibly appealing. He dropped his gaze to her mouth, only to realize his mistake. Her rosy, full lips begged to be kissed. Desire sprang forth, much like a fountain gurgling to life.

Unable to resist, he leaned close to test them both. The gurgle became a gusher, surprising him with its strength.

“Here they are,” Bernie declared from the doorway.

Sterling stepped back and blew out a breath, whether in relief or disappointment, he couldn’t say. But one thing he did know—he intended to kiss Miss Wright if given the chance. She was too tempting to resist.

Chapter Three

Lena scowled asshe marched into Norah’s drawing room the following morning. The close encounter with His Grumpiness had made her prone to muttering to herself about the impossible man ever since.

What had he been thinking? Had he been taunting her? Pushing to see what she’d do? Was he attempting to convince her to abandon her acquaintance with Lady Bernice?

“What has you in such a stir?” Norah asked from where she sat at her desk.

Sunlight streamed in from the nearby window, creating a warm golden glow in the room. Norah had added a few feminine touches to the townhouse where she and Vanbridge lived, subtle accents that made it a welcoming, restful place. It was one more reason the two were perfect for one another, each complementing the other, much like Ella and Marbury. Norah brought Vanbridge out of his lair on occasion, and he gave her a reason to enjoy the quiet of home.

“His Grumpiness.” Lena knew she’d feel better as soon as she could express her upset. The one disadvantage to living with her grandfather was that she couldn’t talk to him about things like this. Only one of her sisters would do.

Since Norah already knew part of the story, Lena had chosen her to share her woes.

“Renwick? Do tell.” Norah set aside her pen and paper and stood, gesturing toward the settee, her eyes glittering with interest.

Lena joined her. “Where’s your handsome husband this morning?”

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