“No, but?—”
“Then come. I promise you, you’ll be pleased you did,” he said. He walked away without waiting for a response—without allowing any further argument—and hoped that her curiosity about the matter would be enough to compel her to appear.
And he hoped, too, that he was right in thinking that this was what she would want, and that she would be glad she had come. It was a risk, to be sure—but Seth believed it was a good one. If this went well, they would both reap the rewards.
CHAPTER 12
In the dead of night, Lavinia slipped out of her bedroom and down the hall.
She moved slowly, in darkness, not even daring to bring a candle to light her way. She was deathly afraid of being caught, and her heart pounded madly in her chest. Yet even as she trembled, it occurred to her that she wasn’t so afraid that she’d chosen to stay in her room.
Nothing but her own curiosity was compelling Lavinia to meet with the duke tonight—well, that and her desire to see him again. And the fact that they were going to be alone together tonight—truly alone, without fear of anyone interrupting them—it was a powerful thing to realize. It took a bit of the nervousness from her body and made her hurry a bit faster to meet him.
The clock struck one as she reached the library. She took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and went inside.
He was already there, facing away from her toward one of the bookshelves, and he didn’t turn when she entered the room. “Good evening,” he said quietly.
“Good evening, Your Grace.”
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Well, you made it seem important,” she said. “I confess, my curiosity is piqued.”
Now he turned to face her. “The gown,” he said, gesturing to it. “Do you like it?”
“I do.” It felt strange to still be dressed for the day in the middle of the night, but she had stood pondering what she would do for a long time and had ultimately decided that she had to wear it. Meeting with the duke in the dead of night was strange enough—she couldn’t bring herself to go to that meeting in her nightgown.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “But you do seem a bit uncomfortable in it.”
“Do I?” she asked, frowning. “I apologize, Your Grace—I didn’t mean to give you the idea that I didn’t like the gown. I’m very grateful to you.” Was this why he had wanted to see her? Was he angry with her? Did he feel she hadn’t shown enough appreciation?
But he shook his head. “No, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured her. “I believe you when you tell me you like the gown. It’s just that…” He trailed off.
“It's just that what?”
“Lady Lavinia, do you wish for my help?”
“Your help?”
“You want to find yourself a match. A match based on love. Isn’t that accurate?”
“Yes, that’s true,” she agreed. “That’s what I want most of all.”
“And if I believe I can help make that happen for you, is that something you want? Do you want me to help you?”
“I would welcome any help.” Lavinia wasn’t too proud to accept help from him—not anymore. She was well aware of the fact that she had already taken plenty of his help, and that it would be hypocritical in the extreme to start acting as if she was too good to accept it now. Besides, she did need it. “But, Your Grace, I’m not sure what you can do about it. You’ve already done so much for me, and believe me, Iamvery grateful. But apart from wearing these gowns…”
“You need to learn to wear themwell,” he said. “And you need to carry yourself in a way that’s going to attract the attention and the admiration of gentlemen. You don’t do that now.”
It was blunt, but there was no cruelty in it. She could see that. He hadn’t said it to hurt her. He was trying to be helpful.
Lavinia was used to harsh comments from her father—comments that weren’t meant to cause pain, only to mold her into the person he wanted her to be. The difference was that she had no interest in becoming the person her father wanted her to be. But if she cooperated with the duke, if she listened to him…well, maybe it would be to her benefit.
“All right,” she agreed. “I’m willing to learn. Tell me what I need to do.”
The duke looked around. It seemed as if he was trying to make up his mind. “Sit over there,” he said eventually, placing a hand on the center of her back to steer her in that direction.
Lavinia shivered a little. It felt as if her skin had heated up beneath her gown where he had touched her. Had he intended that? Was he even aware of it?
