Page 33 of Taken By the Duke of Stone

"It belonged to my grandfather," he explained when he caught her staring, then rose to his feet, "I must leave now."

She stood up too and then curtsied, "Your Grace."

Lady Hartfield curtsied as he walked past her and out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Lavinia fell back into the chair with a sigh, her hand over her chest. Why did he affect her so much?

An arrangement such as theirs should have been devoid of any thing that wasn't platonic. Was she the only one being affected then? The thought made her chest feel tight.

"Are you alright, dear?" Her aunt asked, eyes searching hers.

She nodded, unable to form the lie in her mouth that she was fine.

"The way he looks at you darling," Lady Hartfield sighed wistfully, "He must be really taken with you."

She sat up, eyes wide, "And H-how is it that he looks at me?"

"I do not have the words to explain it, but quite simply put, only a man who is smitten can look at a woman like that. Everything else can be feigned, but the eyes stay honest."

Those words replayed in Lavinia's head for the rest of the day and haunted her even into her dreams that night.

CHAPTER 11

Lavinia stared at the selection of dresses strewn over her bed and heaved a sigh. Now that she knew that her family was in financial straits, she understood why she had only been given enough for very few clothes for the season.

The knowledge did nothing to solve her problem though. The clothes should have been more than enough for one season but as it stood, she had worn and repeated most of them and soon, the members of thetonwould begin to whisper about her being painfully unqualified to be duchess or worse, that she was a fortune hunter, eager to get her hands on his money because the Hartfield's didn't have two pennies to rub together between them.

With another sigh she dropped into the nearest chair, biting at her lips in thought.

She supposed that she could get the lady's maid to make some brilliant adjustments on some of the dresses to make them appear to be completely different ones.

Annoyed with her line of thoughts, she made to walk out of the room and ran right into her aunt.

"Oh I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" She said apologetically.

The woman rubbed her forehead where her niece's had bumped into hers, "Quite," she ran an accessing eye over her, "What has got you in such a conniption?"

"It's nothing," she replied with a stiff smile.

Lady Hartfield's gaze shifted to over her shoulder and immediately took note of the dresses littered about the bird, "What's going on here?"

"It's nothing at all," she hurried to say, but her aunt's narrowed eyes clearly said she didn't believe her.

"I am not going to stop asking so you may as well come out with it, Lavvie."

She scowled, hesitant to look ungrateful but she knew Lady Hartfield wouldn't accept anything but the entire truth. Her shoulder drooped with defeat.

"It seems that I'm about to run out of suitable clothes. I do not mean to be greedy or ungrateful. Nothing like that, I promise," the words tumbled out one after the other almost in one breath, "But I never expected to be out so much. Getting engaged was unexpected much less getting engaged to a Duke. And I-"

Her aunt raised a hand to stop her, "I completely understand, and I honestly feel silly for not realizing it earlier. I've just been so happy to see you out and about and enjoying the season that I did not think of your wardrobe."

"I can get some of my clothes worked on to make them look different."

Lady Hartfield shook her head sternly, "You will do no such thing."

"Well, what would you have me do?" She threw her hands up in the air.

"We are going to the modiste," Lady Hartfield said, "And now don't give me that look. You'll be a duchess soon and I will not have the entiretonlooking down at you and seeing you as less than worthy to be with the Duke. I have a bit of money I managed to put aside."

"I cannot allow you-"

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