Page 33 of A Duke Changes Everything
He shrugged, but Mina detected a slight flush of color in the regal cut of his cheeks. “My mother enjoyed her books.”
“My father approved of Miss Austen.” Mina gestured toward the wall where the author’s novels were shelved. “But you should tell me which book was your favorite.”
“Don’t try to put me off.” He took a step closer and Mina held her ground, even when she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “I asked first.”
“Fine.” Mina let out a sigh, preparing herself for his reaction. “The Brothers Grimm, if you must know. I like fairy tales.”
“Of course.” He crossed his arms and smirked, somehow managing to look both simultaneously appealing and maddeningly smug. “Raised in a decrepit old castle, how could you help but love goblins and fairy-tale monsters?”
Nowhewas making fun of her. Mina hadn’t searched him out to discuss literature. “The vicar came to call, and you should prepare yourself because he’ll be back. Also, the inventories are complete. We can review them now, if you like.”
Mina shifted on her feet, took one step toward the door, eager to escape his inspection. She’d already shared too much. But the duke drew closer.
“Why did your father object to fairy tales?” He lowered his voice to a damnably enticing timbre. “They seem just the sort of thing a young girl should wish to read.”
Mina frowned. “Have you read the Brothers Grimm?”
“Probably. At some point.”
“The stories are quite violent and complex. Not childish and as simple as many imagine. People misunderstand fairy tales.”
“Like your father?”
“He thought they were impractical.” Mina stared at the toes of her boots. “He said if I wished to read, I should take up biographies or the books in his office.” She looked up to find the duke wearing an unexpectedly sympathetic expression. “Fanciful nonsense, he called them.”
“But you persisted in climbing into the window nook?” He approached the spot and reached up to yank back the heavy gray drapery. Bending, he placed one knee on the upholstery that had faded from crimson to a lighter rose after years in the sun.
It was strangely transfixing to watch him settle onto the spot where she’d reclined a thousand times. He glanced out the window, inspecting the view she’d studied during an endless march of lonely days. Then he reached down to where the cushion met the wall.
“Wait,” she said too late.
He turned back and smiled, lifting a handful of ribbons she’d kept on hand to mark her place in books. A far better use than tying the silly things in her hair. Her father urged her to be practical, and ribbons made entirely fitting bookmarks.
“Did any of these actually make their way onto your head?” he asked, his mouth curving in amusement.
“Not if I could help it.”
In two long strides, he came to face her toe to toe. He took her hand gently into his, and Mina forgot to breathe. Or rather, she breathed too much. A strange thrashing in her chest caused every breath to come quick and sharp.
He lifted her hand, and she had the wild notion that he meant to place a kiss against the back of her fingers. Instead, he turned her palm up, held his closed fist out, and opened his hand to let the ribbons cascade down.
Every inch of satin and grosgrain was warm after being locked against his skin. She shoved the pile into the pocket of her skirt.
“You’re not what you seem, are you?” The smile he gave her was the first true and unambiguous expression of amusement she’d seen from him. The wonder of it made her breath bottle up in her throat.
“You’ve known me all of four days, Your Grace. I doubt you have a clear grasp of who I am or what I seem.”
But he did know. This man who’d come to Enderley to loathe every inch of it and tear down everything she’d been working to hold together. Even he could detect that she wasn’t the agreeable, ladylike young woman her father had taught her to be.
She tried stuffing her impulses and rogue yearnings down like the ribbons beside the cushion, but it had never worked.
“Believe it or not,” he said with shocking gentleness, “I’m a rather good judge of character.” He stepped back, settled his backside against the edge of the map table, and crossed his arms. “Comes in handy in my line of business. Gamblers always wear a mask of confidence, no matter what cards they hold. Assessing people and their motives is how I survived.”
“You’re the son of a duke. Was surviving truly such a challenge?” Mina knew men who fretted about where they would obtain their next meal and young women like Emma, who felt the burden to provide for their siblings.
“I never benefited from being my father’s son. It’s only ever been a curse.” He assessed her a moment, tipping his head to the side. “When I left Enderley, I had nothing. My mother and I...” The duke’s voice faded as if he’d lost the next words or was too distracted by his memories to speak of them. After a moment, he cleared his throat and went on, his voice raspier, thick with emotion. “We resided in France for a time. I came back to England after she died.”
France? Mina wanted to ask questions. So many questions. “The Enderley servants were told that the duchess was ailing in a sanatorium by the seaside.”
