Page 55 of Never Beguile a Duke
“What question did you have for me?” he asked, glancing down the servants’ staircase as Mrs. Aylett shuffled past the bottom step carrying a bundle of linens.
The corner of Miss Fernsby-Webb’s mouth pulled up, and she strode to a small table with a vase of snowdrops.
Tracing her fingertips across the delicate white petals, she said, “You appeared quite perturbed when you burst into Miss Juliette’s chamber, so much so that you forgot to remove your greatcoat, and I believe the reason lies deeper than your concern over an exaggerated sledding mishap.”
“Can a father not be concerned for his daughter?” Silas asked, striding toward Miss Fernsby-Webb.
“He can.” She lifted a flower from the vase. “However, he wouldn’t bring up the subject of another man while ascertaining his daughter’s health.”
He’d underestimated Miss Fernsby-Webb’s intelligence.
“Roxburghe and I stopped at your mother’s residence to investigate her claim.” He yanked off his gloves and stuffed them into the greatcoat’s pocket. “And the evidence confirms her story.”
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing to note.”
As he turned away, Miss Fernsby-Webb flung the stem back in the vase. “If you won’t tell me, then I’ll learn the truth from Nora.”
Eyes narrowing, he spun back. “And how will your sister glean any further information from me?”
Miss Fernsby-Webb shook her head, a tiny grin appearing on her lips. “Not from you, Your Grace… from the Duke of Roxburghe.”
“Roxburghe holds a great deal of secrets. I’m not concerned about him withstanding his fiancée’s curious mind.”
“It’s not her mind he must withstand.” Miss Fernsby-Webb’s grin widened. “It’s her feminine nature.”
“She’ll seduce the information from him?” Silas’ eyebrows shot up. “That’s quite presumptuous to assume Roxburghe will fall for the scheme.”
“Don’t underestimate a determined woman, Your Grace,” Miss Fernsby-Webb replied, adding an elegant curtsey. “Especially not one instructed by me.”
“Then why don’t you perform the action yourself?” he asked.
“I would never seduce my sister’s fiancé!” Miss Fernsby-Webb’s words echoed down the hallway.
“I’m not suggesting that you do.” He glided nearer and lowered his voice. “I’m curious why you wouldn’t attempt to pull the truth directly from me.”
A tiny pucker formed between her eyes. “I hadn’t agreed to your clandestine proposal.”
“And if I dared you?” He closed the distance between them, encouraging the citrusy scent that clung to her skin to waft over him.
He was courting danger with this line of questioning.
“I would refuse.”
“Due to your attraction to another?” The sentence came out with more force than he intended.
She recoiled, bumped into the small table, and winced. “It is due to your title, Your Grace.”
“That didn’t deter your sister.”
Miss Fernsby-Webb’s face darkened.
Stepping forward, she stabbed Silas in the chest with her finger. “Nora didn’t set out to capture a duke, and she certainly didn’t employ any method of seduction to do so. The Duke of Roxburghe pursued her.”
A fact Silas knew to be true, having heard Roxburghe’s confession to the same that morning.
“I retract my statement.” Silas glanced down at her hand, then returned his eyes to hers. “What about my title concerns you?”
