Page 32 of The Duke's Carriage Window
“It could be someone else’s jewelry…” Darius suggested but by his tone she knew he didn’t believe it either.
“There is no logical reason to bury jewelry in the garden,” she pointed out. “Not unless you are desperate to hide something.”
“I agree.” With a tender hand, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I know something doesn’t feel right. We will continue to look into this. I promise.”
His hands still lingered around her waist and she waited a moment too long to let go of his shoulders as they stared at one another, but neither of them said anything.
Darius cleared his throat. “Come and finish lunch. Then we must prepare for an afternoon of gentlemen callers.” Darius didn’t sound all that pleased by the notion.
That brought her out of her thoughts about the mystery at the Crell house and thinking again of her uncertain future and what she truly wanted. She felt something crinkle in the pocket of her dress and realized she still had the letter from the prince who was willing to help her win Darius as a husband. If the prince believed she could have him, then shouldn’t she have more faith in herself?
“You could send them away,” Meredith suggested in a quiet tone. It was entirely too bold, but she had to find a way to let him know what she wanted without making a fool of herself.
“Your callers? I wouldn’t dare,” Darius said. “You said you would be here this afternoon, and I shan’t let you lose the opportunity to meet any man you might like.” He choked a little bit on the word ‘like.’
One she liked… not loved. She doubted that Darius had noted the distinction.
Meredith held her emotions in check this time as she allowed Darius to escort her back to the table to finish their meal. She wished he would have agreed to chase away her callers. She didn’t want to entertain anyone today, though that was the entire reason she’d come to London.
The thought left a deep pit form in her stomach, and she dreaded entertaining those she might like, while under the heated gaze of the only one she truly wanted.
“Mr. Warren Burville,” Mr. Chelsea announced as he stepped into the drawing room. Darius and Meredith stood to greet their first guest. “To see Miss Montague,” Chelsea added with an wry expression.
Darius blinked. Warren was here to see Meredith, not him? The man had to be teasing him, surely. He’d known Warren most of his life and the man had never shown the slightest interest in courting. Now he was here to see Meredith, a woman who only last night was on Daruis’s lap, kissing him. He didn’t know what to think of that, other than he had the sudden urge to throw a punch straight at the man’s face.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Darius asked as Warren walked past Mr. Chelsea. His friend held an enormous bouquet of flowers and wore a honey-colored waistcoat that perfectly matched Meredith’s eyes. It was a waistcoat that Darius had rarely seen him wear.
“Come to see the show, old boy,” Warren replied. A smirk flashed across his face before he politely bowed to Meredith and offered her the large bouquet. It was a blend of red and pink roses along with some daisies. Darius arched her brow at his friend as Meredith buried her face in the soft petals to take in their scent.
Darius, like any decent gentleman, had an understanding of the language of flowers and believed that sending a message of passion and love along with innocence was entirely inappropriate for a young woman that a man had no real interest in.
“Passionate love?” Darius gripped Warren’s shoulder as Meredith handed the flowers to Mr. Chelsea to put in a vase.
Warren’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. “You think Miss Montague is not worth passionate love? Damn me, Darius, you must be blind.” He watched Meredith speak to the butler, his eyes alight with sensual interest.
“Of course she is worthy of passionate love. That’s not the point. You are not the type to court a woman.”
“Who says I’m not?” Warren asked with a raised chin.
Darius glared at him, calling his bluff. “What the devil are you playing at?” He continued to speak in hushed tones so that Meredith would not hear them argue.
Warren shot him a look as if he were a half-wit. “You really don’t know?”
Darius’s hands fisted at his sides. “Clearly, I don’t. Perhaps you ought to enlighten me, Warren.” He drawled the last few words darkly, which had no effect on his friend whatsoever. If Warren didn’t explain himself soon, he was going to be tossed out on his ear in two seconds.
With a dramatic sigh, Warren waved a hand at Meredith and the drawing room around them. “You are about to be descended upon by dozens of young bucks vying for Miss Montague’s attention. Only the bravest will remain here if they see me and my vase of flowers. Only the boldest will dare face me in a battle of courtship.”
“But you don’t mean to…?”
Rather than reply to Darius’s unfinished question, Warren spotted a tray of teacakes that the cook had prepared and marched over to the refreshment table as Meredith returned. It left Darius standing there, muttering to himself, wondering why he couldn’t understand what was happening in his own bloody house.
Warren wasn’t going to court Meredith. Warren was the sort of man who had a lady in every village or city in England who was ready to take him to bed without any expectations whatsoever. He was not a man to fall in love, not in the way that would see him leg-shackled. Yet here he was, bringing flowers to Meredith like a lovestruck lad.
“Thank you so much for the flowers, Warren. They are lovely.” Meredith poured him a cup of tea.
“Warren, is it?” Darius muttered in a mocking tone as Warren sat on the settee with Meredith. Darius was not going to let Warren sit that close to his ward. Darius came and wedged himself between the two. Warren let out an oof as Darius squished Warren and Meredith against the sides of the settee.
Warren shot a dark look at Darius. “Well… This is unexpectedly cozy.”
