Page 45 of Anything But a Duke
She’d reminded him of the deal they’d made, and she was right to. He’d never had trouble achieving his goals. Something had changed that disturbed his peace of mind, but he needed to focus on his plan.
And he would start tonight.
Diana tried to concentrate on arranging the notes she’d brought on the table in front of her, but she kept glancing at Mr. Iverson. Something had changed since they’d exited his shopping emporium. He shifted in his chair, rearranged the cutlery on the table, and refused to meet her gaze.
She looked out the window at Darlington’s. She was impressed with the scale of the business and its variety of offerings and wondered how much of that had been Iverson’s doing.
“Why is it called Darlington’s?”
He quirked a brow questioningly.
“Shouldn’t it be called Iverson’s?”
“I don’t require my name on everything I own.” He finally looked at her and settled back in his chair. “The shop is known as Darlington’s and has built a reputation on that name. I’ve built enough of a reputation with my own name not to need it on a storefront.”
His claim was clearly true, but it only raised more questions in her mind. “Reputation is important to you. That’s why you wish to marry a noblewoman?”
“That’s not why.” He shuttered again, sweeping a hand through his hair before scooping up his teacup. Finally, he said, “As a commoner, some doors will always be shut to me.”
“Why must you open them?” Diana understood his meaning. Her commoner family had never received invitations to the best society events, and some young ladies at Bexley had treated her differently. But as a lady inventor, she expected many doors to be shut to her, whatever her family’s lineage. “Is it more money that you want?”
His eyes widened slightly as if she’d caught him off guard. Then he worked his jaw, as if considering how to reply. “There are changes I could make, influence I could offer if I made it through those doors.”
“So it’s not just about wealth?”
He took another sip of tea and cast her a smile over the rim. “That too.”
“When will you know you have enough?” She was asking herself the question too. The drive inside her never waned. She feared stopping, resting, letting any moment go to waste. But someday she wanted to.
“There’s no limit to ambition.” The words came with a tinge of defiance. Then more quietly, he added, “When you’ve gone without a meal, you become very determined never to go hungry again.”
“You’ve been hungry?” She knew his words weren’t intended as a metaphor, but the pain in his eyes told her that he was speaking of his own history.
“Not for many years, and never again,” he said too brightly.
Diana imagined him as a boy and the thought of him going without something as basic as a meal twisted a knot in her stomach.
“And what of your ambition, Miss Ashby? Where does your hunger come from?”
Diana flicked at the edge of her sheaf of notes with her finger. She much preferred when she was asking the questions. When she didn’t answer, he leaned forward, an elbow on the table to get closer.
“Is it your father?”
“No.” The word emerged louder, more vehement, than she’d intended. A few ladies at a nearby table watched for a moment before turning back to their tea. Diana let out a sigh and admitted, “In part because of my father. His love for invention and science colored my childhood. His books were the first I learned to read. But my ambition is for me too.”
Iverson was resting both hands on the table and looked more at ease than he had since they’d sat down. His expression was open. He was listening and seemed to want to hear more.
“My head is full of ideas. I want them to be useful, at least some of them. I need to prove to myself and everyone else, I suppose, that one of my designs can succeed.” Diana felt heat creep into her cheeks. She had said too much, admitted too much.
All her unnatural, unladylike ambition was on full display.
“Then we must find buyers for your cleaning device,” Iverson said decisively.
Diana knew he didn’t trust that her machine would succeed, but she had no doubt of his determination. She needed to be as resolute about her half of their bargain.
“Shall we discuss Sophie’s parents?”
His brow dipped, as if he was disappointed by the change in subject. Then he sat back in his chair and assessed the several sheets of paper she’d laid out on the table. “You know quite a lot about Lord and Lady Caldwell, I take it.”
