“If you’re not interested in ‘improper behavior’—which, if you’ve nevertriedit, is a great oversight on your part—then is His Grace the reason you walked out of the library so miffed yesterday afternoon?” Judith’s eyes narrowed. “Because if he took liberties you didn’t wish to give, I’m happy to stab him with a—”
“No,” Carole said quickly before some passer-by overheard and the entire town began speculating. “I was vexed because he rejected an offer without listening to me, but I can’t blame him. He’s a duke and I’m a nobody. He probably has a team of architects and craftsmen locked in his guest room for whenever the urge to renovate strikes his fancy. He doesn’t needme.”
Judith’s concern melted into a knowing smile. “So youdolike him. Mmm, all that rugged, ducal power.”
“He’s nice,” Carole replied primly. “He’s more complicated than I first imagined. And funnier.”
“The Duke of Azureford has a sense of humor?” Judith said with obvious skepticism.
“You’d already know the answer to that if you were ever in the same room as him,” Carole pointed out. “Now hush. We’re here.”
Before she could reach for the brass knocker, Swinton opened the front door.
Judith immediately simpered, “Why, Mr. Swinton, surely it’s a crime to be more handsome every day than the last.”
Carole marched past them into the corridor before her tender ears overheard whatever the butler planned to murmur in reply.
Azureford was still seated at his dining room table, his back to the open window. When he caught sight of her, he glanced up and smiled.
She felt that smile all the way to her toes. It wasn’t just a curve of those wide, firm lips, but a full-body smile that relaxed his posture and lit up his handsome face as if he’d spent all morning hoping she would walk through his door.
The silly smile spreading over Carole’s face no doubt mirrored his reaction.
She cleared her throat. “What are you working on?”
“I can put it away.” He started to stack a pile of journals.
“I don’t mind.” She stepped into the room. “Are you redoing the inventory list?”
“And risk dismemberment? That’s your domain.” He lifted a sheaf of documents. “These are House of Lords projects.”
“Allof this?” She moved to take the seat opposite him, but he motioned to the empty chair at his side. Soon, their elbows were touching. “I thought you were finished for the summer.”
“Parliament closed in July and the new session won’t reopen until November, yes. But there is always work to be done. These two journals chronicle the changes in imports and exports, this pile of correspondence has to do with choosing leadership for a few committees, and this stack of reports—but of course I’m boring you.”
She shook her head. “You’re not. Really. The first book I ever read twice was a tome on descriptive geometry, so if you’d like to make a wager on which one of us is more likely to out-bore the other…”
“Ooh, descriptive geometry,” he echoed with wide eyes. “Is that one by Radcliffe or Walpole?”
She swatted his arm. “Gaspard Monge, actually. Perhaps more people would read those gothic novels if they applied more logic than swooning virgins and dark fantasies.”
“No they wouldn’t.” Azureford affected a dramatic pose. “‘I must flee the Castle of Otranto with its ninety degree angle flying buttresses.’”
“Well, that explains why the castles are always so frightening,” she replied with a straight face. “Buttresses cannot properly support their weight unless they’re installed at forty-five degree angles. A good, solid swoon is completely understandable when there’s a castle falling down about one’s shoulders.”
He laughed and opened the journal markedImports. “Remind me never to buy you a romantic novel.”
Carole stuck out her tongue and listened to his explanation about the intricacies and differences between the Importation Act of 1812 and the Import Act of 1813.
In no time, she began to realize that Azureford was not only surprisingly humble and droll, but also very, very clever. He scarcely needed to glance at the journal entries to quote them exactly. How many times had he gone over this material? Could he just look at things and remember them? No wonder everyone in the House of Lords seemed to want him on their committee.
Luckily for them, Azureford seemed passionate about every one of the worthy causes blanketing his dining table. If he hadn’t been a lord, Carole rather suspected he’d have served in the House of Commons. Being born a duke was essentiallycarte blancheto do or have anything His Grace desired, but he wasn’t resting on inherited laurels. He was probably the single most competent representative in all of Parliament.
She shifted in her seat. This new facet made him all the more attractive.
Not that she dared develop atendrefor him, of course. He was shooting for the stars and she was staying put. No matter how magnetic she found his passion, her loyalty was to her family and the vow she’d made never to abandon her father.
Well, that was putting the cream before the scone, wasn’t it? Her cheeks heated. She was here as his library inventory consultant, not to compete as a future bride.
