Page 50 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
Immediately suspicious, she asked, “What do you mean? Why would Ineedto see you?”
That infuriating grin only widened. “Because you miss me, or perhaps you even want to kiss me.”
She laughed, both taken aback by his insolence and impressed by his nerve. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“Is it? Isn’t that why you feel the need to lash out at me? You find me attractive but that bothers you and makes you bitter. Also, per our agreement, I get to kiss you once each day you are here. I have come to relieve you of the burden of anticipation.”
By the time he finished his little speech, she had to forcibly close her mouth. “You have some nerve.”
That damned grin reappeared. “I do.”
He was deliberately provoking her, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. “Fine. Have done with it, then.”
He stepped right up to her until the heat from his body warmed her front. That was no small thing, considering how drafty the place was. She had to fight against her instinct to close the space between them and soak up all the warmth he would give her. Dipping his head, he brought his hand up to gently touch her jaw. The backs of his fingers skated over her skin, sending a ripple of pleasure down her spine. She licked her lips in anticipation, but he hesitated, hovering over her mouth as if he were savoring a cup of coffee that was slightly too hot.
When she absolutely could not take another moment’s delay, she pushed upward until her lips touched his. He obliged her by fitting his lips to hers, moving them in a gentle rhythm that had her parting for him. By now his kiss had become familiar to her, though she had no idea how it had happened so fast. She only knew that she anticipated the soft heat of him and his taste in a way that made kissing him feel like indulging in a heavenly slice of the most decadent chocolate cake. Hewasdecadent and sinful, and she wanted more than she should.
It was over all too soon and he was pulling back. Why was he stopping when they had only barely started? She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, mischief in his gaze but something far more satisfying smoldering underneath.
“Shall we go to dinner?” he asked.
She nodded, wishing for a moment to compose herself but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he affected her. She took the arm he offered and hoped that the effects of the kiss were not visible to anyone else.
Mother had a distinctive twinkle in her eye when she saw them, but she stayed silent on the point. The duchess inquired about their comfort, and everyone stood around chatting amicably for several minutes until a servant announced that dinner was ready.
Dinner was less formal than the Ashcroft affair. For one, the table had an extension that had been removed for the occasion, making it much smaller for their party of eight. Secondly, the gender order was thrown off with only two males present, so everyone wandered in as a group. There was no awkward dithering over where everyone would sit. Rothschild would naturally take his place at the head of the table with his mother at the other end. Mother had latched onto him the second they began to walk in that direction, and August thought it rather appropriate that he ended up with her. Mother was known for her endless conversation, so he should be suitably entertained all night. The sisters had already engaged Violet in conversation before August had come down, so they sandwiched her sister between them, taking up one side of the table. Her Grace gently took August’s arm, saying, “Come sit next to me, child, so we can learn more about each other.” Apparently, Rothschild had not shared their agreement with his mother.
The dining room was breathtaking. It had a ceiling that arched gracefully in several places with wooden beams leading toward each apex. The hearth extended out into the room with a beautiful and ornate mantel and a chute facade that soared to the ceiling. It was very dramatic, and the effect was gorgeous. However, the decay of the house was noticeable. Plaster was crumbling and in need of repair before a new coat of paint could be applied. The wood, both in the beams overhead and the wainscoting, was dark and in need of polish. Although some of it might need to be replaced before that could happen, as several water stains were visible. One large water stain ran down the length of one corner of the wall, no doubt caused by the leaky roof that desperately needed to be restored. The whole place held the faint odor of neglect.
“How are you enjoying your stay in London, Miss Crenshaw?” the duchess inquired as she nodded to one of the footmen, who began filling their wineglasses.
August had warmed to the woman immediately in their previous brief interactions. Seeing her with her daughters tonight had only improved August’s perception of her. Itwas no hardship to chat with her, so they spoke until the fish course about London and the amusements they had each attended. Over stewed eel, the duchess turned slightly toward August and said, “I am curious: tell me about your work with Crenshaw Iron. Do you find it fulfilling?”
August nearly choked on the tender bite of eel she had just taken. No one had ever asked her about her work before. August had overheard snatches of conversations where people were obviously talking about it, but no one had ever asked her directly. This phenomenon was not limited to London. It happened back home as well. It was known that she worked alongside her father and brother, but it seemed to be an unwritten taboo for women to ask her about it socially.
After a discreet bout of coughing, she said, “Pardon me. Yes, actually I do find it very rewarding. I quite enjoy the research and the forensic inspection of a financial statement.”
“August was nigh this high”—Papa held a hand up to the level of the table—“when she climbed onto the desk in my study and added a column of figures that had been making my head hurt. I allowed her to occasionally help with the ledgers after that. She gradually took on more responsibility as she grew older. She finds the work rewarding, but never fear, she is more than capable of turning that enthusiasm to new projects.”
The pride on his face was unmistakable, and August nearly smiled automatically in response before she understood exactly what he meant. He was assuring the duchess that August was perfectly content to give up the career she had worked long and hard to build at Crenshaw Iron.
The duchess gave a tight smile, and her brow raised ever so slightly when her gaze fixed on August. August blinked, and the older woman said to Papa, “What a clever child.”
“She is a very clever child,” said Papa. “I believe she will be successful in everything she does.”
“I do not prefer to give up my work,” August said, quietly setting aside her cutlery and reaching for her wineglass.
Papa’s lips twitched with a hint of displeasure. Thankfully, the duchess broke the silence. “You do not find the day-to-day tasks of office work tedious?”
Putting aside her earlier misgivings, August said, “Some days can be dull. We cannot always be in the midst of planning a new venture or acquiring a factory. However, there is always a satisfaction in knowing that a day has been well spent in a way that will benefit many.”
“Hmm...” The duchess made the thoughtful sound as she took a dainty sip of her white Burgundy. “The railwayshavecompletely changed the way we live.”
“Yes, there is that, but I also speak of our workers. I like to think that they are looked after. We provide them with good, gainful employment so that they can support their families. Their families in turn grow healthy and educated to further a productive society.”
The duchess nodded and smiled. “Indeed, that sounds rather progressive.”
“I think it simply makes good sense by whatever name it is called,” August said.
