Page 20 of Nothing Compares to the Duke
Every word he said was true. Bella could see it in his furrowed-brow expression, hear the earnestness in his voice. He wasn’t employing any of his usual charm. She sensed there wouldn’t be any jokes or clever quips to undercut his statement.
“Surely there is someone else,” she said, and couldn’t help glancing down at where he still held his finger dangerously close to her lips, “for whatever reason you require assistance.”
The man was a duke with servants at his beck and call, ladies prepared to swoon at his feet, and gentlemen eager to curry favor.
“No one like you.” His voice had gone low, not much above a whisper. “You know who I am. My failings and flaws. Many of which are your strengths. Mathematics, for instance.”
Bella frowned.
“And London Seasons,” he added, then finally moved his hand away to begin ticking off items. “Ordering gowns, negotiating with haberdashers, hats, shoes, whoknows what else. That is precisely the point. I have no notion of what Meg needs. You do.”
Mention of his sister made Bella smile. In cutting off her friendship with Rhys, she’d missed any connection to his sister too.
“I would be happy to meet with Lady Margaret. She could visit me at Hillcrest if she’s in residence at Edgecombe.”
Now it was Rhys’s turn to frown. “But it’s more than Meg.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Ineed you. You know I can’t read or juggle numbers worth a damn and—”
“That’s not true. You’re better than you think you are.” The instinct to reassure him came without thought or intention. An old habit, yet she still found the words to be utterly sincere. He’d never seen himself as she saw him, never understood the man he could be.
“You still believe that after all this time?”
“Unless you’ve changed significantly in the last five years, I probably do.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I still need your aid. The ledgers at Edgecombe, Bella. They’re a nightmare. I can’t make heads or tails of them and I must. There’s been theft or perhaps simple mismanagement. I’m not certain. Nothing is certain.” After his rushed ramble, he shoved a hand through his golden waves. He looked as exhausted as she’d ever seen him. “If you’d just examine them and speak to Meg. I’ve nothing to offer in return. You’d have my gratitude, but you’ve had that since the day we met.”
The desire to help him was almost as compelling as a need. But that was exactly why she couldn’t. A few minutes in his presence and tender, foolish feelings were already there, waiting to resurface and shatter all her resolve.
Perhaps they would always be there.
“What was it you wished to ask of me?” he said softly. “Name it, and I’ll agree.”
No, she couldn’t continue this. It was too much like picking at a wound that had finally healed over.
“Please tell Meg to call. Despite the house party, I would welcome her any day.” She took a deep breath before saying the rest. “Beyond advising her, I cannot help you.”
He closed his eyes a moment, pursed his lips, and then began to nod. “I understand. You owe me nothing, but I’ve always been a selfish man, haven’t I?”
“I never thought so.”
That little smile came again, tip-tilted and charming. “You thought too highly of me.”
“Yes.”
“But not anymore?”
“It’s not that.” What was the point of explaining feelings that no longer mattered? “I’m sorry, but I must return to our guests.”
He nodded and worked his jaw, then it was as if a breeze swept the clouds aside on a sunny day. He smiled, but it was the false one. The beautiful beaming facade. “I’m a selfish bastard, and I’ve kept you too long.” He reached for her hand.
Bella bit back a gasp at the contact. His hands were bare. Hers too. And his skin was warm.
“I bid you good evening, Miss Prescott.”
“Good-bye, Your Grace.”
He let her go and moved past her toward the door. Bella didn’t turn, didn’t breathe, as she waited for him to depart. Then his footsteps stopped.
“What was the favor?” he called from behind her.
