Page 9 of Never Second Guess a Lord
If she knew this was how things were going to go, she would never have left her room. Not for all the wealth and prestige in the world. Yet curious eyes were watching, so she had little choice but to accept his offer and slip her arm into his. To allow who had been the sole focus of her hatred at one time to escort her along as though being on his arm was an honor.
“Because it is an honor,” Grace would say. “You said as much years ago, too, if you recall? You remember. In the drawing room over tea when we spoke of all the esteemed acquaintances you were making because of your elevation in society. I do believe the Rothesays were among them. That in time, Lord Rothesay and his wife might very well have become a duke and duchess, so you were eager to make their acquaintance.”
And now here he was, a duke, and she on his arm. The only problem was everything in between. How he had treated his wife despite what Maude said. The harm he must have caused her with his flirting. His inevitable infidelity. How heartbroken she must have been.
“You need not show me around, Your Grace.” Her voice sounded tight even to her own ears, but it could not be helped. “I realize, given the false impression you are under, that it might be an unsavory task.”
If she could dismiss herself and flee back upstairs, she would, but that would seem rude at this juncture. She had made an appearance, and as sister to the Lady of the Castle, she must see things through.
Especially given who escorted her.
“I will admit it would be less of an unsavory task if you did not appear so unhappy,” the duke said softly enough to spare her from others overhearing. He steered her down a less busy hallway of candle-lit chandeliers and old paintings. “Do I truly upset you so?”
“Of course not.” What else to say to a duke?Yes, I think your actions years ago were reprehensible. Howdareyou?“I was merely put off by my sister’s rude behavior.”
She tried not to look at the towering Scots staring down from even older portraits. Feared seeing the same harsh, judgmental looks in their eyes as those she had left behind in Mayfair. She also tried to ignore the Scotsman on her arm. How petite she felt beside him. How strong his presence seemed. What was that pleasant scent he wore? A bit of a spicy masculine aroma.
“Yet I was not put off by your sister’s behavior,” the duke made clear, drawing her attention back to the conversation. “If anything, I quite appreciated it.”
“Did you?” She tried to smooth away a frown when she glanced at him. “Whatever for?”
“For the kinship of it.” Though he smiled cordially at those who curtsied in passing, she heard the strain in his voice when he confirmed what Maude had said. “You see, I never wanted to be a duke. Would have much preferred a lesser title and people around me who did not feel the need to bow at every turn. Who might, like your sister, address me by my given name.”
Surely not.“So you wish you were a commoner?”
“At times,” he admitted. “Yet I know I can affect more change as I am now.”
What an odd thing to say.“What kind of change?”
“Any change that is for the better,” he said. “Poverty and unemployment in the lower classes, for starters.” His gaze drifted over the wealthy furnishings around them and the finely dressed people passing. “While it might seem a time of prosperity for those of us walking halls such as this, others suffer. Those who keep both Scotland and England afloat with their hard work.”
She might have expected having any number of conversations with him, but not this. Surely, he jested. Why, though? Why lie about such a thing? It seemed cruel even for him.
“I wish to return to the great hall.” Duke or not, she let go of his arm, spun on her heel, and started back the way they had come, only for a servant to open a door and gesture inside. “If you would, my lady and Your Grace. They bring a special pianoforte down the hall, and we cannot risk it being nicked or dropped. The way must be cleared.”
How many new pianos were her sister and Lord MacLauchlin bringing in? She could tell by the serious look on the servant’s face this was quite the affair, so she entered the dimly lit room only to realize there was no one else in there. Rather, when the door clicked shut, she was in the last place she wished to be.
All alone with the Duke of Argyll.
Chapter Four
Jacob was unsurehow to feel about the timing of his seclusion with Lady Barrington. While some might think Blake had planned it, he knew his friend would never be so unfeeling.
Not given the piano that was being so carefully carried down the hallway.
The room they ended up in was one of the more intimate ones in the castle, with a small sitting area in front of a fire that, like many hearths over the next few days, had been kept lit. And like most rooms on this floor, there was an array of liquors left out on a side table.
He poured himself a whisky and gestured at her glass. “More while we wait?”
“No, I have plenty,” she began, only to seem startled her glass was nearly empty. As though she were surprised to realize she had been sipping quite steadily from it since he joined her in the great hall.
“I insist.” He refilled her glass with claret before she could say no, then gestured at the chairs in front of the fire. While he should keep things properly civil, he was in no mood after catching a glimpse of that piano. If anything, he felt more direct than usual. “Now that you cannot escape so quickly, shall we sit until we can leave?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Pardon me?”
“Shall we sit?”
“You know full well that is not what I referred to.” She shook her head and worked against an improper frown. “I was not trying to escape.”
