She shrugged. “It’s not at all the same. Those are just drawings.”
“Why do you say you don’t know if you’ll ever marry? Isn’t that what you’re here for? If I’m to guess correctly, I’d swear the duchess invited you so that you could turn your feminine wiles upon either Langley or Carlisle.” Yes, he’d seen the knowing glances between the duchess and Miss Mossant.
“Then why, pray tell, did you kiss me?” Even in the muted light of dawn, he could see the flush sweeping up her neck and into that tiny little face of hers.
A very good question.
Whyhadhe kissed her? He’d been feeling somewhat irritated at the turn of events his life had taken, and he’d…
He’d wanted to.
“I decided it was my responsibility to ensure you had a memorable first kiss.”
“That wasn’t my first kiss!”
“Liar.”
She did not refute his accusation.
He reclined and lifted his ankle to rest atop his knee. “And was it?” He touched his upper lip thoughtfully with one fingertip. “Memorable, that is?”
If possible, that blush grew even darker.
“It was… nothing special. I appreciate you far more for getting my spectacles fixed for me.” Except she dropped her eyes, but only for a moment and then blew out a heavy sigh. “Oh, very well. I liked it. In fact, I thought it quite spectacular! Felt it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Nearly burst into flames. Are you going to laugh at me now? I imagine my own skills pale in comparison to the numerous women you’ve to compare against me.”
Even—he glanced at his watch—at quarter to six in the morning, this chit entertained him. “You don’t play coy, do you?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know how, to be sure.” And then she leaned back in her chair and… A growling sound echoed in the room.
“It that your stomach making that rabid sound?”
She crossed her arms over her mid-section and stared at him in defiance. “It might be. I was about to find my way to the kitchen when you showed up at my door. Heaven-sent, might I add.”
“You don’t have to go that far.” He chuckled, rose, crossed to the corner, and tugged at the bell pull. “A maid will arrive shortly. You needn’t go in search of your food, daft woman.” He chuckled. “I’d best take my leave.”
As he opened the door, she stopped him with her voice.
“Are you certain your father isn’t innocent?”
He held up a hand. “This is not up for discussion. Good morning, Miss Goodnight.”
Emily stared at the door for a full minute after he departed and then shifted uncomfortably.
What if the Duke of Waters was innocent? What if their fight was due to a misunderstanding? So often, such matters arose out of poor communication. And stubbornness, which Marcus Roberts possessed in spades.
They’d been at odds with one another for nearly ten years!
She remembered catching sight of the lady Waters had betrothed his son to. Lovely girl.
Guilt niggled her.
How on earth could she get to the bottom of this? Certainly, a few questions asked of the right people could shed some light on Meggie’s father’s death.
She snorted. As if she had the means to hire an investigator, pay a professional to travel to the duke’s estate. Times like this, she wished for the benefits that came along with being a duke.
A duke.
Prescott was a duke. A very obliging one, in fact…
