Page 27 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
She giggled. “Thank you. Growing up mostly in London, I suppose one learns a lot.” The family had spent almost as much time in London as out of it for as long as she could recall. Papa did not just go to Town for the parliamentary season, but also forbusiness ventures.
“You must have paid a great deal of attention,” the duke said, his eyes holding her own.
“Not really.” She giggled. “In truth, I am often the subject of jest for my lack of attentiveness. I find myself continually diverted by one thing or another.” She looked down, a little self-consciously.
“That is the opposite of not paying attention.” His voice was firm, surprising her. “Noticing small details shows a keen eye. It is a trait of great value. Especially in artists.”
Anastasia swallowed hard. His words were not flippant, but deadly serious. He sounded far more sincere than he had throughout their lighthearted talk.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Camilla and her other friends teased her often about her tendency to get distracted. The duke was the first person she had met who thought it was more than just amusing.
“It is no less than the truth,” he said softly.
Anastasia gazed up at him. His voice was gentle and the sound of it stroked across her skin. She stared into his eyes, and he stared back. His gaze held hers. Anastasia’s heart thumped rapidly in her chest.
“Anastasia?” Camilla’s voice called. “Would you be so kind as to assist me in making a choice?”
***
Anastasia blinked and turned around slowly. She felt dazed. The look that the duke leveled at her was compelling and it drew her in, making it impossible to look away or to think of anything else. Her cheeks blushing furiously, she looked away.
“Yes, Camilla?” She called. “What are you deciding about?”
“These two.” Camilla strode around the side of the shelf. She barely glanced at the duke, who was five or six yards behind Anastasia. Anastasia did not turn around to see if he looked at them or not. “The brocaded silk, or the pink one?” She held up two pieces of fabric, which were attached to rolls that the proprietor had moved to lean against the nearby worktable.
“Um...” Anastasia tilted her head, considering. Her heart was thudding and all she could think about was the duke, who was still there in the shop behind her. “Um...mayhap the brocade? You don’t have any in brocaded silk, as I seem to remember?” It was hard to concentrate. Every part of her was aware of the duke, her skin seeming to sense his gaze on her from across the room.
“Grand!” Camilla grinned, seeming pleased. “I thought the same. Well, then. I will take the brocaded silk. If you could measure the correct amount for an evening dress?” Camilla asked, turning to the proprietor.
“Of course, my lady. If you should require gauze or ribbon, we have a counter of ribbon over there...” she gestured.
Camilla wandered over and Anastasia followed her slowly. As she did, she was aware of the duke moving over to speak to the proprietor. He was speaking too softly for her to hear, and she tried to focus on Camilla and the ribbons she was looking at. Her mind kept on wandering to the duke, trying to listen.
“I think this might do for the waistband and for the sleeves, to edge them?” Camilla was asking, lifting up a thin satin ribbon in white.
“I think so,” Anastasia replied, touching the soft, silky fabric that Camilla indicated.
Camilla carried the ribbon over to the proprietor so that she could measure out and cut a piece of it for her. Anastasia stood where she was, gazing at the ribbon. She was aware of the duke coming over to join her.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “Your advice was helpful.”
“Thank you,” Anastasia murmured. “I am pleased that I could help.” She felt a flush move into her cheeks, which were already hot with blushing. She looked down at her feet, a lump in her throat from the strange, shy tension she felt whenever he stood nearby.
“I was pleased to discover you here.” He bowed low.
Anastasia swallowed hard. The words were not particularly romantic or unusual, and yet they sent tingles down her spine—sweet, pleasurable tingles.
“It was pleasant,” she managed. Her throat felt impossiblytight, as though it was suddenly too narrow for speaking and breathing at once.
“Good day,” he murmured. He lifted his hat. Anastasia noticed that Camilla was walking briskly over, a bundle of fabric in her arms. Rachel was walking with her, holding another bundle.
“Do you need to purchase something?” Camilla asked Anastasia, her gaze a little confused as it wandered to the duke.
“No,” Anastasia said softly. She had not planned to purchase anything. Part of her wanted to stay, just so that she could stay with the duke, while the rest of her felt too confused to wish to be longer in his presence, since it caused her such floods of feelings that she felt quite baffled.
“Well, then!” Camilla smiled. “We shall go. We bid you a pleasant day shopping.” She added to the duke. He bowed low.
“Thank you, Lady Camilla. Thank you, Lady Anastasia,” he added. Anastasia felt her cheeks flood with heat when he said her name, though, again, she could not imagine why it should have such a strange effect. His voice was low and resonant, certainly pleasant to listen to, but that did not account for why it seemed to resonate in every part of her, nor why her heart thudded wildly in her chest.
