Page 21 of Plucked By the Orc

“You don’t like me much, do you, sir?” she said.

He stepped back, his heavy eyebrows scrunching. “Why the devil would you say such a thing?”

“That’s not a denial,” Iris pointed out. “Mrs. Thompson and Mr. Clemons are on hand. It would be perfectly respectable to dine together. It’s something else. You see me as a solid pupil, perhaps. But no more than that.”

“I like you well enough, Miss Gabbert.”

His voice faltered enough to spark a glimmer of hope that he didn’t find her completely objectionable.

“Then why won’t you share a meal with me?”

“As I said, I take luncheon with my brother Albion at our gentlemen’s club.”

“You feel compelled to do that every single Tuesday and Thursday?”

The question truly seemed to puzzle him. “As is my custom, yes.”

“And mine is to eat alone?”

He hesitated. Only the slightest twitching at the corners of his lips, right past the incisors jutting out on either side, betrayed any hint that her words gave him reason for concern.

“Are you saying you desire my company, Miss Gabbert?”

They had drifted toward one another without either of them intending to do so, at least she had not, and now she was so near to him she caught the fragrance of the expensive smoky sandalwood and citrus cologne he wore mingled with the enticing scent of his skin.

Despite the efforts of London’s best Savile Row tailors, his broad shoulders and firm muscles strained against the oversize frock coat. Iris caught herself admiring the ripple of his muscleunderneath his bespoke linen waistcoat. Not that she would have admitted this to another soul. Not even her closest friend, Lottie Greenstreet. And not because Duncan was an orc. They were all something or other, weren’t they?

No, not that. It was because the excitement that gripped her when she looked at Duncan could overtake her senses if she let it.

She swallowed hard, throat now dry. She hadn’t thought he would make such a big to-do about her request.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want your company,” she said. “It seemed like you weren’t interested in mine.”

“I don’t object to your companionship, Miss Gabbert.”

“Don’t object! Easy with the praise there, sir.”

He shook his head, some of his black hair falling out of place and over one of his horns.

“Let me restate the matter. Over these past three days, I have witnessed you grow by leaps and bounds. Soon, you shall not need me. You have blossomed into a fine and lively companion. Any gentleman would think so.”

Iris didn’t know that she liked the sound of those words as she should, for she thought her company well enough before her lessons. She had hoped that Duncan Higgins might have recognized that, too.

Then again, she supposed that was too much to ask for from a fine gentleman, even one who, strictly speaking, had as little place in thetonas she.

“I am sorry that I am otherwise engaged for luncheon,” Duncan said. “Truly. But my father wanted me to represent the Hidden Realm in London and at the club. That way, I can be available to the gentlemen who approach me with questions regarding trade.”

Iris nodded thoughtfully. Duncan Higgins was a man of honor, he was. She’d been an excellent judge of his character in thefirst place. Underneath the sober exterior, there beat a right fine heart.

“I do want to get to know you better, though,” she told him. “Hear your opinions and the like.”

“You care aboutmyopinion, Miss Gabbert?”

“Why shouldn’t I? It makes sense, it does. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know you better? And you can tell me about Orcan customs and such. More of you lot are coming to London. That’s so, it is. Otherwise, you wouldn’t write your book. I want to be a sight less baffled by Orcan behavior. I want you to share more about your land over a proper meal.”

“Dinner, perhaps?” he blurted as if he wanted to get it out before he lost his nerve. And then he quickly added, “We should review table etiquette, I suppose.”

“On one condition,” she told him.

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