Page 48 of A Duke Changes Everything
“That’s impossible.” A daughter so earnest, so loyal, so willing to take on her father’s duties could never be a disappointment.
“I assure you, it’s true.”
“Why?” Nick leaned closer, balancing his elbows on his knees. “Because you liked to read fairy tales?”
She faced him, bit her lip again, and Nick couldn’t help staring at her mouth. He told himself to fight the urge building inside him. The urge to touch her again. To kiss her properly. To discover whether she truly tasted as sweet as the honey he’d licked from her finger.
“He wished me to be more ladylike. To behave properly.”
“And propriety isn’t your first instinct.” Nick grinned. “Is that why you stayed at Enderley? To make amends to your father?”
Mina shook her head, notched up her chin an inch. “He would never ask that of me.”
She was magnificent when she was declaring her loyalty, whether for Enderley or her father. The quality seemed an inherent part of her nature, and Nick admired it. Hell, he was beginning to adore it.
“Everyone thinks I must regret the life I have, that I should be pitied.” She leaned forward, until they were inches apart. “Don’t pity me. I’m perfectly content.”
Her clenched jaw made her claim far less believable.
“If you’d ever left Enderley, you might have made a different sort of life. One with dancing in ballrooms and strolls on parapet walks that aren’t crumbling.”
Throaty laughter burst from her. Nick liked seeing her smile almost as much as discovering the single dimple at the corner of her mouth.
“Is that the choice you think I made? Dancing at balls or the drudgery of managing an estate.” She lifted a finger, like a governess scolding him. “Mind you, I’m not saying it is drudgery.”
“Was there never a suitor?” The question was brazen. Entirely inappropriate. He wouldn’t have dreamed of asking Spencer or Iverson about affairs of the heart. He dearly wished Huntley would brag less about his conquests.
But she was different.
That was the trouble with Miss Mina Thorne. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met, and his feelings for her were a disturbing ferment of conflicting impulses. He swung between wanting to avoid the woman and aching to kiss her.
Both of which were ridiculous, inappropriate, and not at all what he’d come to Enderley to do.
Her fingers worked the fringe of her shawl, winding and unwinding the strands of yarn. She hadn’t looked his way since he’d asked his impertinent question.
“There was someone.”
“He must have been terribly smitten.” Nick regretted asking the question. He didn’t want to know some other man had wooed her, loved her.
“No, I don’t think he was.” She shifted uncomfortably on the seat and swallowed. “I was a fool.”
“He hurt you?” He saw the answer in the way she tensed, the way she averted her gaze out the window. Nick wanted to find the man and pummel him.
“It doesn’t matter.” She gazed at him a moment, and then shook her head as if pushing away old memories. Then she lifted a folded piece of paper from her coat pocket. “We’ll be meeting in the public hall,” she said, straightening her skirt and employing her no-nonsense tone. “The vicar has arranged for some refreshments, and I’ve prepared a list of villagers I know will wish to speak with you.”
Nick reached out to retrieve her folded list. She let go too quickly and the paper fluttered down between them. Mina reached out to catch it and her bare hand closed over his thigh.
She jerked her hand back, curling her gloved palm into a fist. Her breaths came fast and her eyes widened. But it wasn’t horror or regret he saw in her gaze.
Nick saw the same spark of desire he felt sizzling in his blood. The brand of five small gloved fingers and a heated palm warmed the top of his thigh.
He wanted her, and it took every ounce of self-control not to reach for her before the carriage stopped in front of the vicarage.
This was madness, and he was already in far too deep.
As soon as the duke took his seat at a long table the vicar had set out, Mina positioned herself off to the side where she could watch his interactions but go largely unnoticed.
The duke appeared wary, almost as if he had something to fear from the villagers. The truth was that all of them were coming weighed down with their own fears. He possessed the power to reject their petitions. Many probably worried he’d be like his brother, or worse, his father.
