Page 11 of Her Wicked Duke
“Grandson,” she returned dryly. “I heard a crash.” Her eyes flicked over the scattered items on the carpet. “Ah.”
“There was a mishap,” he said defensively, not wishing to explain himself.
“I am sure.”
He gave her a smile. If there was anything that could calm him down right this instant, it was his grandmother. She walked into his study without any invitation, dressed in the French style of her younger days.
“How was your evening?” he asked.
His paternal grandmother had taken him in when he was in France, and in turn, he had taken her in when she had decided to move back to London with him.
“Nice enough,” she answered. “I played chess alone. The venison at dinner was dry.”
“Ah, the butler said you enjoyed?—”
“Hespitesme,” she huffed. “He thinks himself an English gentleman who can boss me around and tell me where to be and at what time. I dislike him, as I have mentioned.”
Turning away from her, Alexander rolled his eyes. His grandmother had often attempted to trip his butler with her cane, feigning ignorance when he looked around, silently accusing but never daring to speak out.
“Do not distract me, anyway, Grandson.” She tutted, waving her hand as she made for the window seat so she could face him.
With her dark grey curls half twisted atop her head, and the rest falling down her shoulders in graceful waves, Alexander could envision the young lady she had once been.
A woman who had passed her eyes on to his father, a woman who had ruled her temporary home in France during her summer holidays so sternly that her son had decided to seek a better life back in London. That was where he had met Alexander’s mother, and their story had ended in tragedy.
“Tell me about the ball,” the Dowager Duchess demanded. “Who cavorted with whom, who had several turns about the dancefloor, what scandals occurred…”
Alexander had not told his grandmother that the very thing he observed was not the ball itself but one particular woman who attended it.
“It was uneventful,” he lied.I nearly kissed my best friend’s sister.“And I shall not be the enabler to your gossiping.”
She laughed and waved him off. “Dear boy, I would gossip with or without you. Next time, I shall attend and find you a wife, unless the reason you are being evasive with me is because you may have your eye on a lady already.” She cocked her head, a secretive smile on her face that spoke of decades of plotting.
“Grandmother, even if I harbor affections for a lady, you would meddle,” he answered her. “But no, I do not.”
“A wife would help you with these… outbursts of yours, Alex.”
Alex. It sounded so informal. He was used to members of the ton addressing him by his title. To be reduced toAlexfelt like some humanity was injected back into him, and his rage simmered down to a bearable level. He sank into the chair behind his desk and rubbed his temples.
“She would calm you down, balance you out,” his grandmother went on while he stewed in his silence. “She would listen, and your worry about finding a wife would be gone. This is why you are so agitated, no?”
He did not bother to reply. On the one hand, he supposed she was right. Anne had followed him like a tempting breeze for years now. But he could not sully her with his hands that bore his trauma and heartless nature. She had called him that herself, had she not? Heartless. Dangerous. No matter how handsome or desirable she thought he might be, he remained those things.
“Your father was very much the same, but I was able to encourage him much earlier.”
“Grandmother, it is hard enough to find a dance partner, what with the rumors the very honorable ladies of the ton spread. They call me things without knowing why. Barely any of them look twice at me, yet they see themselves able to judge me.”
“Psh! No wonder. Have you seen your scowl, Alex? That alone would make them keep a wide berth. Have you tried to smile in the last… oh, decade?”
He glared at her, but she glared back just as fiercely. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew for any argument he made, she would have an answer.
“Alex, I worry. Your scowl is most off-putting, so I hope your manner makes up for it. Any lady attending these events would be privileged to marry you.”
Alexander barely suppressed a derisive snort.
“Everything would be much different in France, you know. I truly don’t know why you wanted to return. They do not have all this business over there. You would be free to court as you wish. In France, they would respect you, they would fall over you, what with your English heritage and title. London bores me, Alexander. France is vibrant! It is alive with passion and love…”
He did recall the several ladies he had courted in France, but he had been unable to find a real connection with any of them.
