“Lucinda is lucky to have you,” the Duke said. “We all are.”
That single comment made Yvette’s chest feel suddenly tight. And the way that he looked at her certainly did not help. His smile was soft, his eyes glimmered in the sunlight, and he watched her as if she were the center of the world and nothing else in it mattered.
The way he looks at me, it almost makes me wonder… no, Yvette. Do not waste your time. Do not dare dream it.
“Yes, well…” She looked away as her cheeks flushed. “It is my job.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “But you do it anyway, and for good reason. You have a natural affinity with children, Miss Norleigh. Any child would be lucky to have you as their parent.”
It was an innocuous comment, but with everything that was on Yvette’s mind, it sounded far more purposeful. As if he somehow knew what she had been thinking about these last two days.
Obviously, that is impossible, Yvette. And do not dare say anything!
“Thank you,” she managed, still unable to look at him.
The Duke stayed in the doorway and continued to look at her. He wore that same soft smile, that same knowing look in his eyes, and she felt that he had something else he wanted to say to her.
The silence between them grew… the tension mounted… Yvette dared to glance at him again, noticed the look in his eyes, and looked away as if he could read her mind. Should she tell him that she had changed her opinion about children? But why bother? What good would that do? What could he possibly do with that information?
Yet there he stood, watching her, his expression now serious, and she was certain that he had more to say. Whatever it was, it troubled him, and there was a battle raging behind his eyes on whether or not he should say it.
Hope filtered through Yvette, daring to dream…
“Miss Norleigh,” he started finally. “There is something I need to –”
“Your Grace!” From nowhere, a valet suddenly appeared. He was out of breath and wore a look of panic. “I am sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor.”
The Duke sighed. “Who is it?”
The valet hesitated, glancing nervously at Yvette. “Perhaps you should… I directed him to the drawing room, Your Grace. He was rather irate, insisting on speaking with you at once.”
The Duke frowned at the valet’s strange response. Something was clearly wrong, and whoever this visitor was, the valet did notwish to say the name out loud. Stranger still, it seemed to Yvette that he did not want her to hear it specifically.
“Very well,” the Duke sighed again before looking back at Yvette. “Rest up, Miss Norleigh. I will check on you later, if you do not mind.”
“I would like that,” she said.
He smiled once, held it for a moment, then turned and strode from the room and down the hall.
Yvette remained where she was as she thought back through that conversation. It was perfectly benign, nothing at all to fret about, yet there was a sense to her that it was more than it seemed. And not just the Duke checking on her well-being, which itself was something to covet. But there was something on his mind that he wanted to discuss, something that clearly made him uncomfortable.
Don’t worry about it, Yvette. If it is important, he will tell you. Likely, it is nothing, and you are just letting your imagination run away with you.
She exhaled and laid down, determined to get some rest.
Of course, her pulse had since quickened, and she was feeling nowhere near as tired as she should be. She just couldn’t stop picturing the look in the Duke’s eyes, how nervous he had been… and that wasn’t to mention the tension that hung between them.
It was commonplace now, that tension, and the air often cracked and sparked when they were together. It went beyond mere familiarity, and while Yvette knew what it meant on her end, she doubted very much that the Duke felt the same. There was just no way…
She closed her eyes, desperate to sleep, but that was when she heard it.
Shouting, coming from downstairs. Raised voices. Heavy stomping. Whoever was visiting the Duke was no friend… just as it was not her business. She grabbed a pillow and covered her face to drown out the raised voices, but there was something about that voice that niggled at her brain.
It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn it sounded just like…
Yvette tossed the pillow, widened her eyes, and sat up quickly. Then she turned toward the door, still able to hear the arguing coming from downstairs. She knew who that voice belonged to now, even if she could not fathom what he was doing here. Nor why he was so angry.
Leave it be, Yvette. It is not your business…
