Page 29 of Anything But a Duke
“Poets tell of love. Novelists write characters who fall far too readily. But I don’t have time for reading poetry or novels.” Diana smiled, but didn’t meet her friend’s gaze. “I prefer to make decisions based on what’s rational. On what I can see and touch and calculate.”
“Come, Di. Are you telling me there’s never been a single man who’s made your pulse race? No one who made you wish to ignore all the rules of propriety we were taught at Bexley?”
Diana’s fingers tensed so fiercely on the cylinder in her hand that she felt the thin metal begin to give way. Her cheeks warmed, and she willed her thoughts to go anyplace but to that night.
Aidan Iverson made her pulse race, and she’d ignored every bit of etiquette she’d been taught.
“There is someone,” Grace whispered.
“No, there’s not,” Diana said, as much to herself as to her friend. “I am a woman of science. Love is about feelings and fanciful notions that have no place in my life.”
Grace lifted one blond brow when Diana finished. “No place at all?”
“Not right now.” Diana stood and collected a bottle of adhesive and two brushes from her workbench. “Would you help me glue these chipped pieces back together? They haven’t splintered and we can fit them neatly back into place.”
They worked in silence for several minutes. Diana was grateful for the reprieve, but she sensed Grace’s gaze on her now and then, watching and assessing.
“Love will find you one day,” Grace said quietly. “When you least expect it. Your feelings may not make sense or be as rational as one of your scientific formulas, but they will be undeniable.”
Grace spoke with such solid certainty that Diana stopped and looked at her.
“Is there someone who’s turned your head, Grace? Someone that you wish to marry?”
Her friend’s eyes widened, but she collected herself quickly, schooled her expression, and laughed lightly. “Of course. I just haven’t met him yet. I only know he must be rich and willing to accept a meager dowry from my father.”
“You just spoke to me of love and yet now you leave it off your list.”
“Oh, love would be nice, but I suppose it’s not essential. Not if every other requirement is met.” Grace winked and then stared down at the table. She glued the last piece in place and glanced up proudly. “There. Now what else can I help you with?”
“Nothing, unless you can convince one of the men of the Duke’s Den to fund my machine.”
“I’ve heard of it. Quite a strange arrangement. Titled men flouting convention and inviting others to petition for funds.” Grace lowered her voice and added, “My father thinks it’s all quite scandalous.”
“Then he’d be horrified to know that I spoke to them.”
“Did you?” Grace tucked a ringlet of blond hair behind her ear and stared at Diana with concern in her gray eyes.
“Unfortunately, my presentation didn’t go well.”Disastrouswas the most accurate description, but it sounded dreadfully hopeless. “I’m not giving up.”
“You rarely do.” Grace’s smile indicated the words were meant as more compliment than critique. “What do you plan to do?”
“Divide and conquer.” Diana stood and retrieved the notes she’d assembled on the men of the Duke’s Den. She laid the sheets down in front of Grace. “I only need to convince one of them.”
“I know him,” Grace said immediately, pointing to the name of Lord Huntley. “He’s an utter rogue.”
“So I’ve gathered. As you see, most of the details I have about him are from the scandal rags.” Diana tipped her head. “Do you know him personally? Perhaps you know something that would help me convince him to invest.”
“I know his sisters mostly. Our families met once in Bath.”
“Anything he seemed particularly interested in?”
“Flirtation, as I recall.” Grace winked, then dipped her head to continue perusing Diana’s notes. “Tremayne is quite broodingly handsome, is he not? He and his wife attended one of Mama’s balls last year. They’re terribly smitten and didn’t attempt to hide it.”
“I’m not particularly interested in what he looks li—”
“Goodness.”
Diana leaned closer to see what had caught her friend’s eye. “Ah, yes. Mr. Iverson. He is very...”Handsomedidn’t seem sufficient. There was symmetry in his features and masculine appeal in every slope and line. But it was the way he carried himself. The confidence he exuded that somehow didn’t ever ebb into arrogance or pompous pride. She’d known from the first moment she met the man that he was kind. Yet she knew now that he could also be hard, decisive. She didn’t imagine him giving in to sentiment often.
