Had she actually assisted him in removing his cravat less than twenty-four hours ago? It didn’t quite seem possible.
“Your Grace.” She rose to greet him formally and brushed a few wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “I did not expect…”
Why was he here?
Curses on the warmth spreading up her neck. And double curses for the tingling she felt all over.
“Miss Jones.” He pushed away from the door and glanced over his shoulder. “Miss Primm informed me that you would be free of any obligations presently. Might I request a moment of your time?”
“Of course. Come in. You look much better than the last time I saw you. Not nearly as green.” It was true and saying that kept her from mentioning anything embarrassing about her own behavior in the stairwell.
He stared back at her and blinked. “I’ve been told green is a flattering color on me.” Not even a twitch of his lips but… Was he making a joke?
It was her turn to stare at him in surprise. But he spoke again before she could be certain.
“Miss Jones. My actions in the stairwell yesterday were unforgivable. Please allow me to apologize for... my behavior. I’ve come to—”
“Your Grace, there’s no need—you couldn’t help it. Were you trapped in a trunk or under a bed or something when you were younger? Or some other tight space?” She’d wondered about his fear while lying awake the night before… when she wasn’t thinking about the kiss.
“A bog,” he said. And clamped his lips together. “But that’s not why I am here—"
“A bog?” She’d heard of such but having been raised in the city, had never actuallyseenone. She half believed they were a terror made up for fairy tales. Ignoring his disgruntled expression, she leaned forward. “As in a muddy hole?”
“Yes.”
But a bog was outdoors. “How did you come to fear enclosed spaces after being stuck in mud? Did it cover your face?”
“Came up to here.” The duke indicated a line just below his neck. “It was about as deep as they get. But since I was barely six at the time, I found it rather... harrowing. But that is not why I’m here, Miss Jones, I returned this morning to—“
“And no one was there to pull you out? To rescue you?”
“No one knew of my predicament for quite some time. It was long ago, however—“
“How long?”
“About twenty years. Could you possibly allow me to complete a sentence without interrupting me?”
“Not how long ago. I mean how long were you trapped in the bog?” Often, with Chase, she needed to simply plough forward if she wanted her questions answered.
He narrowed his eyes but exhaled what she hoped was a sigh of resignation. “You aren’t going to let go of this, are you?”
“Not likely. I’ve never seen an actual bog and now that you’ve set my mind to conjuring one, I find myself needing to understand precisely how they work. Are they common? Ought I to warn my sister? Rural living is new to her.”
“Sarah? The blind one?”
“Yes.”
“You are telling me you grew up in England and have never seen a bog?”
“My sisters and I grew up inLondonand last I heard, there are no known bogs lurking beneath the lawns of Hyde Park.”
Another breath and two thoughtful lines appeared between his eyes. “Theycanbe dangerous under certain circumstances but are usually nothing more than a messy inconvenience. I’m certain your sister’s governess will keep her from meeting with harm.”
“But what if she doesn’t?”
“Chaswick would not have hired an incompetent woman to care for your sister in the country. Unless the woman is a halfwit, she will know.”
Collette chose to ignore the insult that she doubted he realized he’d dealt. Because although she’d never encountered a bog, she was no halfwit.
