Page 18 of Fit for a Duke
Clio twitched her nose. ‘That’s as maybe, but I have no particular desire to be courted.’
‘But I thought…’
‘You thought what, Daisy? That just because he was my father’s favourite, I would welcome a father substitute.’
‘Well, he is fearful handsome, miss.’ Daisy giggled. ‘And I don’t think he looks upon you with a paternal eye,’ she added.
Clio laughed, thinking it unfair to take out her unsettled mood on her maid. ‘Looks can be deceiving.’
‘I hear…Good heavens, what happened to your hair?’
Clio had forgotten about her style disaster. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said, vaguely.
Daisy tutted as she removed the remaining pins and set to with a brush. ‘You should take more care, miss. All my hard work was for no purpose.’
‘I think there were one or two who appreciated it,’ she replied, thinking of the duke’s reaction to the calamity. ‘Are you enjoying yourself with Mr Godfrey?’
‘It’s not like that, more’s the pity. But he is a very agreeable person, unlike some who think they can take liberties with us servants and not answer for the consequences. Well, he’s a servant himself, of course, albeit a very senior one, but he doesn’t look down on us lesser mortals and generally makes himself agreeable.’
‘There is nothing lesser about you, Daisy. Don’t put yourself down. You are a lady’s maid, Mr Godfrey is a gentleman’s…well all right, a duke’s valet, but you are still equals, more or less.’
‘That is what he says.’
‘Ah, so he has singled you out.’ Clio grinned. ‘How very sensible of him. I am sure there is no one below stairs to compete with your prettiness.’
‘Oh, miss, you’re biased,’ Daisy said, flushing and beaming simultaneously.
‘What did you and he talk about?’
‘All manner of things. He has been to so many places in the duke’s service and seen so many things, it’s hard to fathom. He has been with his grace since before he became the duke. He was just Lord Ezra back then and was quite happy to remain so, according to Mr Godfrey.’ Daisy paused with brush in hand. ‘He mentioned that you encountered the duke in the grounds earlier. He asked a lot of questions about you.’
‘I hope you didn’t tell him too much.’
‘Of course not.’ Daisy looked highly offended. ‘As if I would betray your trust.’
‘I know you would not. Sorry.’ Clio turned her head so fast that she almost dislodged the brush from Daisy’s hand. ‘I am feeling out of sorts, what with the captain turning up so unexpectedly.’ She sighed. ‘I wish he had not come. In fact, I wonder what it is that he really wants.’
‘Well obviously, he has lost his heart to you. It stands to reason.’
‘If that is the case then he is destined for disappointment. I don’t even like him very much, especially now that I better understand…’
‘Understand what about him?’
‘Nothing.’
Clio fell silent as Daisy braided her hair. As soon as she had changed into her night attire she dismissed her maid, anxious to be done with her probing questions and curious glances. Not tired, Clio curled up on the window seat and stared out at the dark gardens. She could hear a man immediately below her window cajoling a female to spare him a kiss. She was severely tempted to lean out the window and find out who they were. Then she recalled her own situation not so very long ago, alone with a duke whom she had been convinced was on the verge of kissing her.
Whowouldhave kissed her, had not Captain Salford interrupted them—another reason to resent his presence. The devil of it all was that Clio would not have prevented the duke from overstepping the mark. He fascinated her on a level over which she had absolutely no control. She had never been tempted to consider behaving inappropriately before, but the glamorous duke had awoken a need deep inside her that coiled through her system in heated waves. Clio felt a whimsical desire to be kissed by a man who would doubtless be a master in the art of seduction.
And to learn what happened next.
How could she be so attracted to a man whom she suspected of plotting a murder? Not that shedidseriously suspect him. She knew what she had heard but not in what context the words had been spoken. He had assured her that he wasn’t planning to kill anyone, and she believed him.
She believed him because she wanted it to be true and because she had convinced herself that he would not deliberately deceive her, even if he was acting in a secret capacity of some description or other on behalf of the government. She believed him because he had given her his word, and to a man of his stature his word would be sacrosanct. His conscience would not allow for any equivocation in that regard.
Even so, Clio mused, she would be most interested to learn why he had been conducting a private conversation about murder with his valet in the tack room. Surely such a conversation could have been more conveniently conducted in the privacy of his chamber. Questions without answers continued to rattle around inside Clio’s head. Questions that she had no right to contemplate. If she was satisfied that he had not come here with the intention of killing a person, then his business was…well, none of hers.
‘Face it,’ she said aloud, ‘he fascinates you and you are looking for ways to involve yourself with him.’
