Page 61 of Anything But a Duke
He looked so impressed at her feat, she was tempted to tell him of all the other times she’d transported strange pieces of equipment or raw parts from one end of London to the other.
“Come this way,” he said, then called out to the skittish young maid. “Tea in my office and please direct our visitor there when he arrives.”
Iverson’s study was almost as surprising as his clothing.
Diana expected the space to be austere like his office, but this room—part study and part library—was one of the most appealing she’d ever seen in her life. Beautifully bound books lined the walls and vivid blue velvet drapery covered two floor-to-ceiling windows. They’d been pulled open, allowing morning light to flood the room and cast a glow on the wood-paneled walls.
“I’ll change before Mr. Repton arrives.”
“Why?”
He tipped his head and narrowed his gaze, then swept a hand down to encompass his waistcoat. “I’ve been out riding this morning.”
“In Hyde Park?”
That drew a burst of laughter that caused an answering tickle in her stomach.
“God, no. Hampstead. Plenty of open fields and no one to take much notice of a man on a horse.”
“Were you raised in the countryside?” Despite his reputation as a man of commerce, she could easily imagine him in the country.
She sensed immediately that she was treading where he did not wish to go.
His expression shuttered, and he drew in a long breath before answering. “Not in the countryside, no. Here in London. South of the river.”
Two steps and he’d strode past her. She expected him to leave her alone without another word. But on the threshold, he turned back.
“I won’t be long. Help yourself to tea when it arrives.”
Diana couldn’t resist exploring after he’d departed. She started with the bookshelves, running her gaze along titles as varied as Marcus Aurelius’sMeditationsto a book about a traveler’s journey to Spain. A volume of Pope’s poetry sat next to a book with a beautifully ornate spine. When she pulled it out, she discovered it bore the intriguing title ofGhastly Tales.
“Tea for you, miss.” The young maid entered the room, deposited a polished silver tea service on a table near the desk, and left Diana alone again.
She ran her fingers over the embossed design on the book. For years, she’d had a rogue desire to read something fanciful, but she never allowed herself to take the time. Her own family library was full of books on mathematics, science, and engineering. Topics that pleased her father. She’d never found a book of poetry at home, and despite her education at Bexley, her mother insisted that ladies should not read novels.
“You’ve found a book you like?” Iverson said from the doorway.
She still held the ornately gilded book in her hands and quickly replaced it on the shelf.
“The cover is beautiful. What are the stories like?”
“Frightening.” He came into the room, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. His hair had been wrangled back into neat waves and she imagined disheveling all of it again with her fingers. “Some might call them terrifying.”
Diana’s brother had often regaled her as a child with his own made-up ghost stories, and they’d frightened the wits out of her. “Do you like being frightened?”
“I prefer fictional frights to true terrors.”
“Have you experienced many?” Somehow, she already knew the answer.
There were only a handful of facts she knew for sure about Aidan Iverson, but much more that she sensed bubbling under the surface. She had only one truly agonizing memory that she found difficult to share with others—the death of her father. She suspected Aidan had many more.
“The last time I experienced any sort of violence, a very helpful Samaritan appeared. I’m grateful to her.”
Diana drew in a sharp breath and clenched her jaw. He knew exactly the memories his words would evoke. After months of wondering, she couldn’t hold the question back any longer.
“Why were you in a Belgravia mews the night we met? Did you know the men who attacked you?”
Instead of answering, he picked up one of the upholstered straight-back chairs in the corner of the room and placed it behind his desk, next to a much larger leather wingback.
