Page 219 of Dukes for Dessert

“Next week,” Carole echoed. “That will be lovely.”

“Good luck with Azureford,” Gloria called as they strode away.

“He’s not here,” Carole said again. Not that it would have made much difference.

His obliviousness to her presence hadn’t stopped her from surreptitiously gazing at him. From her window, from their adjoining gardens, from across his mahogany supper table. Carole sighed. Dreaming about how different her life might have been was the whole reason she’d snuck off to sketch in her book in the first place. She hated feeling invisible.

As she was returning from the retiring room, someone bumped into her and she dropped her reticule. Carole had been the only one who saw her sketchbook fly out to skid across the ridiculously polished floor and into Azureford’s library.

Before she could recover it, Swinton the helpful butler “returned” the fallen volume to the appropriately color-coded section of the duke’s library shelves. Carole clenched her teeth as she turned up the duke’s front path. Why had his butler even been away from his post? She should’ve known right then that retrieving her book wouldn’t be easy.

At first it had seemed like a little luck was on her side. Azureford was leaving the next morning, thereby making it unlikely for him to stumble across her sketches. Particularly the brand new one of his front drawing room.

She couldn’t dart into the library and retrieve her book in front of so many witnesses without making it look like she was nicking one of the duke’s books in the middle of a party. Nor could she explain page after page of town landmarks populated by ale-swilling, cheroot-smoking ladies with snuffboxes and fashionable bonnets.

The only choice was to come back for it later. Thanks to the library’s helpful color-coding, she knew exactly which shelf housed her sketchbook. She could have it tucked in her reticule in sixty seconds.

If only she could get inside.

Carole motioned for Judith to stand behind her, then gave a sharp rap with the pristine brass knocker.

The door immediately opened to reveal an older gentleman with crafty blue eyes and a tuft of white hair. Azureford’s butler, Swinton.

“Good afternoon,” she began brightly. “I’ve come to—”

Judith elbowed her way up onto the front step with almost enough force to send Carole flying into the hedges.

Swinton didn’t blink.

Carole sent her lady’s maid a stern glare.

Judith made no response. Her attention was completely focused on the butler.

Carole rolled back her shoulders and tried again. “I may have lost an earring in the duke’s library during his soiree. Might I take a quick peek to see if I can find it?”

Swinton’s blue gaze slid from Judith to Carole. “His Grace’s party did not take place in the library.”

True. Carole swallowed hard. Blast it.

“Perhaps it wasn’t the library,” she said quickly. “Perhaps it was near the library. Perhaps—”

“Perhaps you believe His Grace’s household staff to be so incompetent in their posts that a lost earring would remain untouched upon the floor month after month?” Swinton inquired politely.

Carole swallowed. “I…”

…could not retrieve my sketchbook while the duke or his friend were occupying the cottage because I cannot risk witnesses.

“Miss Quincy abhors jewelry,” Judith giggled. Actually giggled. “Such a bear when it comes to dressing up at all. I cannot let her gad about town with one earring, can I? Surely a man like you wouldn’t wish such mortification on a girl like me.”

What in the completely-frozen-over hell was that about? Carole turned to her lady’s maid in disbelief. Judith could not possibly expect a breathy little voice and schoolgirl giggles would make the duke’s intractable butler—

“Very well,” Swinton said briskly. “Miss Quincy has five minutes.”

Carole’s jaw fell open. She could practically hear her teeth click together when she forced her gaping mouth shut.

“Come on,” she murmured to Judith as she took a tentative step across the threshold.

Her lady’s maid let out another giggle.

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