Before the butler could turn and leave, Logan commanded, “Please have Miss Edwards summoned to my study. Find me in the parlor once she’s there.”
Bowing, Connors turned and left.
Logan arrived at the parlor. Harry paced before the fire, looking every inch the caged tiger. Divinia Kroger sat regally before a tray containing tea and biscuits.
She noticed him, delicately placed her tea on the table, and stood.
Her deep green dress accentuated her tall, lithe frame, and her smile was sweet, her greeting well practiced. This woman, this practically perfect paragon, would be the best choice for his future duchess. She had beauty, elegance, knowledge ofTonprotocols, and a good lineage. So why did the thought of being tied to her for the rest of his life make him sick?
Haven.
As a duke, he had the duty to marry a woman who would bring prestige and distinction to the family name. Haven was the exact opposite of what he needed. But she was everything he wanted. Though she couldn’t offer “the duke” anything of worth, she offered him, the man, her very heart.
She already owned his.
Turning his focus to his friend, he forced a smile. “Harry, Miss Kroger, what brings you here in this weather?”
Smiling back, Harry replied, “Mother and Minerva are in London, which means the house is quiet. As much as I complain about their bird-like chattering at times, I can’t stand the quiet. So, cousin Divinia agreed to accompany me for a visit.”
Nodding, he turned to Miss Kroger. “Your brother couldn’t accompany you this afternoon?” Whenever he thought of the male twin, a cloak of suspicious anxiety shadowed his mind. Angelous seemed off, like a clock that ticked a millisecond behind.
Divinia smiled, her cool stare pinning him to the spot. A chill slithered over him, and he fought off the urge to shudder.
“My brother is off attending to his hobby,” she purred.
His curiosity reared its unwelcome head. “Hobby?”
The glint of her eyes took on an insidious, knowing look, the blue somehow growing chillier, icier. After she sat on the chaise, he strode to the settee and perched on the edge.
She took her time smoothing her skirts, then looked up at him, her head tilted and her smile crooked.
“Yes. My brother is one of the most gifted men in all of God’s Creation. He can take the most common of materials and transform them into masterpieces. He is a true artist.”
“Really? I’d love to see some of your brother’s work.” The hobby held no interest to him, but he wondered at the expression on her face.
Her smile turned icy and a ripple of unease coursed through him.
“Oh, but you will. He’s working on something so exquisite it will bring you to your knees.”
Taken aback by her choice of words, he replied with a trite, “Good. I look forward to it.”
A knock sounded on the door, and his heart thrilled in anticipation.
That would be Connors informing him that Haven waited in the privacy of his study. Despite the heated and painful argument they’d had the night before, emotion flowed over him at the mere thought of her. His words hurt her, but there’d be time to make it right—because he wasn’t going to let her go.
“Come.”
The butler entered, and the man tripped over his own feet. Blinking, Logan hesitated, waiting for the butler to regain his footing.
“Connors, is Miss Edwards waiting?”
A look of abject panic from the usually self-possessed servant met his question.
Fear—cold and solid—slammed into him.
“Connors. Where is Miss Edwards?” His voice deepened under the weight of anxiety.
Connors swallowed deeply, and refused to meet his eyes.
