Page 6 of The Trouble With Her Duke
Strange that he didn’t say it as a question, but an exclamation of wonder. “Yes, I keep that in my reticule as well.”
“I see,” he replied with a nod. Although Lydia couldn’t help but notice a peculiar gleam in those emerald-green eyes.
“Well, I am sorry for my outburst. It is such a busy time of year, is it not?” She smiled. How odd that he blinked a few times, too. “Did a piece of glass end up in your eye?”
“My eye?”
“You just blinked several times.” She smiled. “There you go again. Now, I really must apologize for any injury I may have inadvertently caused you.” She took a step forward. “If you’ll allow me, I would be happy to render assistance and inspect your eyes for any particles of glass.”
“I . . . I am fine,” he said, holding up a hand. “No glass particles flew into my eyes.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief. “I am glad to hear it” She paused, wondering what to call him. Sir or my lord? He certainly looks like a my lord, or perhaps even a Your Grace.
“Please, no apology is necessary,” he said. “I am very sorry about what happened and will gladly have it repaired. May I examine it?” He held out his hand.
Lydia nodded and carefully handed him the broken timepiece.
The gentleman held the watch up to the light. “It appears the latch on the front is broken . . .”
“And the crystal,” she added, hoping she didn’t sound too peevish.
He took another moment to look it over. “Please, allow me to take care of this, Miss Hammond. Mr. Nile has been my jeweler for years. He’s never failed me. I’m certain he can fix it.” He indicated the establishment in the two-story building across the street.
Lydia hesitated. She knew of Mr. Nile. He did excellent work. She had taken several of Her Grace’s rings to him for adjustment and cleanings. The duchess had frequently mentioned that she trusted his work implicitly. Lydia held out her gloved hand to accept the watch back. She hadn’t noticed before that she’d torn and muddied her pink kid gloves. Feeling self-conscious about how she must appear, she carefully opened the watch once more as she considered the gentleman’s offer to have it repaired. “Do you think Mr. Nile can fix it?” she asked, as she ran her finger over the inscription her grandfather had lovingly engraved on the inside, beneath his father’s inscription. “It’s my most cherished possession.”
“I believe he can,” he said in a soft voice.
Lydia swallowed and handed the watch back to him with a wobbly smile.
“Thank you for entrusting it into my care,” the gentleman said. “Mr. Nile will take good care of it. I am leaving town, but I will instruct him to deliver it to you as soon as it’s repaired. By chance, are you related to the Hammonds that own Hammond’s Emporium in London?”
She tensed at the mention of her family’s establishment. “I am.”
A wry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I thought so. I know your eldest brother quite well.”
“You know Blake?” she murmured.
“I do. I’ve had several dealings with him since he took over management of the emporium from your father.” He shook his head and smiled that charming smile again. “Forgive me. In all the chaos, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Damon Devereaux, the Duke of Danforth.”
Lydia was startled. Did I just dress down a duke? She felt a blush heating her face. Not only had she embarrassed herself, but the duke also knew Blake. She quickly re-evaluated her predicament. Was she foolish to leave her most prized possession in his care? Then again, he is a duke, and he knows Blake.
“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” he continued. “I will reiterate my promise to you that Mr. Nile will deliver the timepiece to you as soon as he has repaired it.”
Oh, horse feathers! She suddenly realized he was the Duke of Danforth! The dowager duchess had pointed him out once while reading from the Ton Tattler, her favorite gossip sheet. A widower, his name had been linked with a certain notorious widow who’d buried two barons and a viscount. And then there had been an Italian opera singer as well, or was it a French dancer? Lydia felt her cheeks grow warmer as she recalled he was also the nephew of one of the dowager’s closest friends, although she couldn’t remember which one.
No matter. Once her watch was repaired, she would never see him again. It’s not as though we run in the same circles. “Your Grace,” she said, trying to maintain her composure. “I accept your offer of assistance, and I thank you for your solicitousness. If you’ll excuse me, I must complete my errands.”
The duke furrowed his brow. “Before you leave, I need an address where the watch may be returned. Should Nile deliver it to Hammond’s in London?”
“No!” Lydia blurted. “I mean, I have a position here in Bath. I am companion to the Dowager Duchess of Featherly. She lives on Brock Street.” She pointed west, in the direction of the dowager’s home.
He nodded and smiled. “I know its general location.”
You double ninny! Of course, he knows where Brock Street is.
“May I drop you somewhere?” he asked.
“No, but thank you, Your Grace,” she said. “I must dash into the bookstore.”
