Page 8 of A Duke for Diana
Before Geoffrey could ask what client’s importance trumped a duke’s, Mother said, “It’s fine, Geoffrey. I believe Gunter’s is nearby, and I’ve been wanting to try their ices and find out what all the fuss is about. We can return later in the day.”
He could hear the embarrassment in Mother’s voice and it fired up his temper. Continuing to hold the butler’s frigid gaze, he told her, “We are not leaving. Or if we are, we’re not coming back.”
“That’s fine by me,” Rosy said under her breath.
Damn it all. Through clenched teeth, he told the butler, “Is there somewhere we can wait?”
“If you must. I am sure the ladies will be down forthwith.” The high-and-mighty butler called for tea, then showed them into a nicely appointed drawing room more fashionable than anything Geoffrey had ever seen in Newcastle, filled with spindly furniture that would no more hold a man of his size than would a newspaper. Between that and the bright yellow taffeta curtains, he felt like a seagull lost over land. This was much too fancy for him.
Grandfather’s house and offices had been furnished in goods of solid English oak, Leeds leather, and burnished brass fittings—a man’s home and a man’s place of business. Perhaps it had been different in his grandmother’s day, but Geoffrey would never know, because his grandmother had died bearing Geoffrey’s mother. Perhaps she’d have furnished it like this room, but somehow he doubted it. She’d been a farmer’s daughter until she’d married an ironmaster.
In any case, Geoffrey found the whole place suspect. He roamed the Aubusson carpet, his annoyance exploding into anger the longer they waited. What kind of business did these ladies run anyway? He was a duke, for God’s sake. Dukes were supposed to be given entry anywhere, or so he’d been told, yet Mrs. Pierce’s butler treated him and his family as if they were imposing upon Elegant Occasions by attempting to give the company their business.
Nomanwho ran a business would get away with such havey-cavey practices. Geoffrey had expected some sort of shop, not what was clearly someone’s home. Then he remembered the butler’s description of the ladies as sisters and conceded that the familial connection somewhat explained their working out of a town house.
A servant brought tea at last, but Geoffrey was still too irritated to have any. No doubt this shabby treatment of them had come about because Elegant Occasions had discovered he was one step away from being a commoner. Or worse yet, they’d learned he wasin trade.
While Mother and Rosy had their tea, he paced over to the window, his temper further fueled by the sight of his carriage being held in front by a groom who seemed to be awaiting a signal from the butler before taking the carriage and horses around to the mews.
How dare they? Mrs. Pierce had agreed to this meeting, for God’s sake. It wasn’thisfault that she’d meant him to come later in the day.
He’d nearly decided to leave when his mother whispered, “Geoffrey.” He turned toward the doorway and lost all power of speech. Because there, framed by a ray of sunlight, stood the most beautiful creature he’d ever encountered.
Yes, her rich, auburn hair looked as if it had been hastily done up in its simple coiffure, and her frown at spotting him and his family marred the perfection of her wide, pearly brow. But still, all he could do was stare. Like an apprentice engineer confronted for the first time with a skew bridge, Geoffrey wanted to figure out how all her parts fit together to create such a magnificent whole.
Other than being statuesque, the lady had “parts” that weren’t particularly unique: warm, brown eyes, a fetching face with a delicate sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and the requisite curves for a woman, or as much of them as he could see. The very fact that he wanted to see more of them was unsettling. So was the way she ignited a pulsing heat in his temples that coursed straight down to his loins.
That had never happened to him, or at least not immediately upon meeting someone. But under the circumstances, it would be unwise, to say the very least, to acknowledge it or contemplate acting on it or anything of that nature.
She strolled into the room and held out her hand. “You must be Grenwood.”
“And you must be the proprietor of Elegant Occasions.” He took her hand and shook it for a fraction too long. He’d taken off his gloves and she wasn’t wearing any, so the skin-to-skin contact had his pulse racing. Which was absurd, of course. “Mrs. Pierce, is it?” he asked.
With a lift of one elegant brow, she tugged her hand free of his. “Wrong proprietor. I’m Lady Diana Harper.”
He tensed up. “You’re a lady of rank?” By God, he really should have spent more time learning about Elegant Occasions.
Judging from how she stiffened, she agreed with him. “I’m not sure why you’re here if you didn’t know that.”
Though her name sounded familiar for some reason, he couldn’t place where he’d heard it.
His mother stepped in. “Forgive us. We’re a bit out of sorts. I’m Mrs. Arthur Brookhouse. My son asked for this meeting after my good friend recommended you. I believe she’s related to someone who used your services previously? Anyway, she only knew the name ‘Mrs. Pierce’ when telling us how to find you in Mayfair. I assume that Mrs. Pierce works for you?”
“Not exactly. Eliza Pierce is my widowed sister, and this is her home. My other sister is Lady Verity Harper. We three run the business together, but my sisters are still dressing, I’m afraid. You took us all by surprise. We expected you later.”
“So we were told,” Geoffrey clipped out. “I assumed that because businesses usually start early in the day, you would all be available.”
Her frozen expression showed he’d put her on her guard. That gave him a certain churlish satisfaction.
“Our company is unique,” Lady Diana said in a brittle tone. “Most of what we do requires us to be at social engagements well into the wee hours of the morning. So I hope you can understand why we do not operate during the hours of a typical business concern while the Season is going on.”
“Of course,” Mother said, shooting him a warning look. “How could you? And we are very pleased you could see us today.”
Lady Diana smiled at Mother. Apparently, he was the only person she didn’t smile at, for she turned an even brighter smile on Rosy. Every ounce of her seemed to soften, as if she could tell his sister was uncomfortable. “You must be the duchess,” she said kindly.
Before he could correct the woman, Rosy blinked, then gave a nervous laugh. “Perish the thought! Geoffrey—the duke—is my brother. He’s hoping you can help me with my début.”
Lady Diana looked mortified. “Please forgive me, but my sister didn’t say exactly whom we were to help.”
