Good God, Miss Quincy was yelling to him from the side of the road. Did she even grasp the meaning of proper behavior?
“A lady doesn’t shout,” he called back. “Or peek inside her neighbor’s windows.”
She grinned at him unrepentantly. “What are you doing? Should we finish clearing up the library?”
No. He was busy. Doing important ducal things. Taking care of Parliament and the like. His morning was rigidly scheduled, and he wouldn’t have time for library antics until after noon at the earliest.
As he leaned his tailored elbow on the windowsill, he heard himself shout, “Come on over!”
6
“No, there is not time to curl our hair.” Carole tried to tug her lady’s maid away from the dressing table.
Judith looked longingly at the tongs. “What if I just curl my hair?”
“You’re lucky I came back for you at all,” Carole reminded her. “We both know how well you intend to chaperone.”
“A chaperone in name only is better than none at all.” Judith added with a wicked grin, “A bad chaperone is leagues better than a good chaperone if you’re spending your time right.”
Carole rolled her eyes heavenward. “I have no intention of physical impropriety with the Duke of Azureford.”
“Then why did you fetch your chaperone?” Judith asked archly and swept out of the bedroom door.
Carole groaned and gave chase. “I told you. The castle footmen come today to pick up the crates. I have to find my sketchbook before they arrive.”
“Assuming it’s still there,” Judith added darkly. “Maybe it’s already being copied into the next quarterly gazette.”
Carole slanted her a flat look. “You’re not helping.”
“But I will,” Judith promised. “I’ll keep Mr. Swinton far away from the library.”
“Thank you.” Carole pushed open the door and exited their cottage with her maid hot on her heels.
“If you’re not interested in ‘improper behavior’—which, if you’ve never tried it, is a great oversight on your part—then is His Grace the reason you walked out of the library so miffed yesterday afternoon?” Judith’s eyes narrowed. “Because if he took liberties you didn’t wish to give, I’m happy to stab him with a—”
“No,” Carole said quickly before some passer-by overheard and the entire town began speculating. “I was vexed because he rejected an offer without listening to me, but I can’t blame him. He’s a duke and I’m a nobody. He probably has a team of architects and craftsmen locked in his guest room for whenever the urge to renovate strikes his fancy. He doesn’t need me.”
Judith’s concern melted into a knowing smile. “So you do like him. Mmm, all that rugged, ducal power.”
“He’s nice,” Carole replied primly. “He’s more complicated than I first imagined. And funnier.”
“The Duke of Azureford has a sense of humor?” Judith said with obvious skepticism.
“You’d already know the answer to that if you were ever in the same room as him,” Carole pointed out. “Now hush. We’re here.”
Before she could reach for the brass knocker, Swinton opened the front door.
Judith immediately simpered, “Why, Mr. Swinton, surely it’s a crime to be more handsome every day than the last.”
Carole marched past them into the corridor before her tender ears overheard whatever the butler planned to murmur in reply.
Azureford was still seated at his dining room table, his back to the open window. When he caught sight of her, he glanced up and smiled.
She felt that smile all the way to her toes. It wasn’t just a curve of those wide, firm lips, but a full-body smile that relaxed his posture and lit up his handsome face as if he’d spent all morning hoping she would walk through his door.
The silly smile spreading over Carole’s face no doubt mirrored his reaction.
She cleared her throat. “What are you working on?”