Page 61 of Never a Duchess
“You’ve spent too much time at bluestocking school, Miss MacTavish.” Lord Denton lowered his voice. “Besides, as a man unsuited to marriage, I wish to avoid meeting anyone deemed compatible.”
Dounreay coughed into his fist to gain their attention. “Good afternoon. Are we interrupting something?”
The duke tried to sound amused, but Lillian heard echoes of sadness, the remnants of a decision she sensed he had not wanted to make.
So why had he put a sudden stop to their research?
Why did he not want her?
She was compelled to find out.
Lord Denton turned. “Perfect timing, Your Grace. Miss MacTavish is trying to convince me it’s pointless to wash.”
“I said nae such thing,” Ailsa snapped. “I merely meant to highlight why ye always attract the same kind of woman.”
“And what kind of woman is that?”
“Do I need to spell it out?”
Lord Denton huffed. “Is this what ladies do in the Highlands, Dounreay? Browbeat a man until he is forced to concede?” He glanced at Ailsa. “You should know Englishmen are stubborn, madam.”
Ailsa laughed. “Yet I’ll wager ye’ll wear less cologne tomorrow.”
Lord Denton gave an arrogant grin. “I plan to send my valet to Floris to collect three more bottles. Heaven forbid I attract someone who likes my natural aroma.”
At this rate, it would be six o’clock before they finished questioning Monsieur Baudelaire. Mr Daventry was not thinking clearly when he chose this unlikely pair to play chaperones.
“Time is of the essence,” Lillian said, impatient to finish their business so she could talk to Dounreay. He stood so close their arms almost touched, though he seemed a thousand miles away. She needed to find a way to reach him, to discover why he was so eager to force a separation. “Wait inside the shop while we question Monsieur Baudelaire. And don’t smell the perfumes.”
Ailsa’s maid returned to the carriage.
Dounreay checked the time before knocking on the shop door. Amid the flurry of activity inside, a smartly dressed gentleman approached, fiddling with the lock before welcoming them inside.
“Your Grace,” he bowed to Dounreay, the silver streak in his black hair flopping over his brow. “I am Baudelaire and must offer my sincerest apology for the dreadful incident that occurred here. As you can see, we are taking the matter most seriously, taking every precaution.”
Monsieur Baudelaire gestured to the empty shelves and scattering of wooden crates. For a man who might find himself ruined or imprisoned, he appeared calm and unruffled.
Dounreay introduced the viscount, and then Ailsa.
Monsieur Baudelaire bowed low over Ailsa’s hand. “If there is anything I can do to ease your suffering, madame, please name it.”
Sounding annoyed, Lord Denton leaned closer and whispered, “The Frenchman is so smooth, she’s bound to put him in his place.”
“Aye, find the devil who poisoned my father,” Ailsa said bluntly. “Words are all well and good, but I’ll nae rest until the villain is punished.”
“I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who riles her temper,” Lord Denton muttered. “The woman has Lucifer’s temperance.”
Monsieur Baudelaire slapped his hand to his chest, the large ruby in his signet ring catching the light. “The injury caused is unforgivable. I shall hunt my competitor down until I prove he’s the culprit.”
Lillian stepped forward when prompted, but the Frenchman spoke her name before Dounreay made the introduction.
“Miss Ware.” Monsieur Baudelaire gripped her hand with unnerving intensity. “Enchantée, madame. It is strange,non? A man might name his perfume after his muse only to stumble upon her years later. For Lily, it speaks of a determined yet graceful woman.”
For goodness’ sake!
She could see why ladies might find his compliments flattering, yet she wondered how he knew her name when she rarely visited his shop. Perhaps Mr Daventry mentioned it during the investigation.
“I am sure you had another woman in mind when you named your perfume, monsieur. And without meaning to sound rude, we have a pressing appointment this afternoon and have a long list of questions we hope you can address.”
