Page 70 of A Duke Changes Everything
“A little over two years.” If Mina had ever sought employment, she imagined this was how an examination from a potential employer would feel.
“How is Tremayne? Is he getting on well?” Iverson tapped the blotter on his desk. “The title came unexpectedly, but I’m sure you’ve been able to assist him a great deal.”
“I do my best, Mr. Iverson.”
The first memory that came to mind was of Nick’s hands on her hips, steadying her as she climbed down the oak tree after retrieving Millicent. Then of his hands shooting out to catch her before she fell to her death from the parapet walk.
Now that she thought back on Nick’s moments of chivalry, she had to acknowledge that he’d helped her a few times too.
“Have you known the duke long, Mr. Iverson?”
His mouth curved in a bemused smile. “Forgive me. It’s odd to think of him as a duke.” His eyes twinkled when he added, “I suspect he feels much the same.”
“He’s expressed as much. Several times.” Mina stared at a seam on her glove that was beginning to fray, much like her nerves. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man, and now, with a gentleman who knew him far better than she ever would, she wished to do nothing but ask impertinent questions.
When she looked up, she found Colin staring at her quizzically. As usual, her flushed cheeks were no doubt giving her away.
“I’ve known him for many years,” Iverson said quietly. “Nearly a decade and a half.”
“You met in London? He hasn’t told me much about his time there.” Mina held Iverson’s gaze and saw the flicker in his eyes, a tensing of his mouth. She had a gnawing suspicion that he knew what had happened to Nick.
“It’s not a story he likes to tell.”
“No, I can’t imagine it is.”
“Lyon’s accomplishments are impressive on their own, but more so when one knows his history.”
Mina wanted to see his accomplishments, this Lyon’s Club that he’d built up from a crumbling building into a famous gentlemen’s club.
“You two should attend the dinner party this evening,” Iverson said as he took a look at the estimates Colin had scribbled down. “If you wish to remain in London overnight, I’m happy to offer guest rooms to lodge you. There are far more bedrooms in this house than I ever use.”
Mina examined the skirt and cuffs of her dark green traveling suit. Colin’s tweed jacket and brown trousers weren’t the height of fashion either. “I’m afraid we aren’t dressed for a dinner party, Mr. Iverson.”
At first he didn’t answer. His gaze scanned the numbers and whatever else Colin had listed regarding the financial investment he’d need for his thresher. Finally, Iverson looked up, squinted, and seemed to hear what she’d said.
“Clothes? That’s easily remedied.” He assessed Colin a moment. “I’m sure I could loan you a jacket, Mr. Fairchild.” Then he turned his green gaze on Mina. “Believe it or not, I might be able to help with a dress for you too, Miss Thorne.” He stood and started out of his office. “Follow me.”
He entered a room across the hall and beckoned her over.
Mina had never seen so many pieces of clothing outside a dressing room or wardrobe. It was as if a lady’s trousseau had exploded above the sitting room and spilled out a sea of gowns and gloves and hats. Many of them were red. Various shades and textures.
“I’ve recently purchased a shopping emporium and must decide which of these gowns to offer ready-made.” He perched his hands on his hips and stared at the dresses laid out over chairs, tables, and matching settees as if he had no idea where to start. “Any opinion on the matter?”
“I’ve no great knowledge of fashion, Mr. Iverson.” Mina could hardly tell him her favorite clothing consisted of trousers, waistcoats, and plain shirts.
“Well, do have your pick.”
“Of these?”
“Only if you wish to wear something else for the dinner party.” He glanced at the gowns, then back at her. “Is that terribly inappropriate?”
“Probably,” Mina admitted. “Though I’m no great stickler for propriety either, I’m afraid.” She couldn’t even recall where the book of decorum her father had given her ended up. As a doorstop or gathering dust someplace, no doubt.
He quirked one reddish brow. “Then I suspect you and Lyon get on well.”
Mina left that observation unanswered and was soon saved from any other inquiries on the topic when Iverson’s housekeeper beckoned from the hallway.
“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Thorne.” He started out of the room, pausing once on the threshold. “Please do pick a gown, if you like. Or wear your traveling costume. I assure you Lady Lovelace and the others will care far more about your conversation than whether you’re garbed in the height of fashion.”
