“Glad to hear it,” he said, too quickly. “And you’re comfortable working for a duke?”
“I daresay, I feel as though I am being interviewed. But I will say, a position is a position, Mr. Sedgewick. I don’t imagine the Duke of Kirkhammer is fundamentally different from any other employer.”
If only she knew,thought as he bit back a laugh.
“You might be surprised,” he said.
She looked at him directly for the first time, her gaze sharp and assessing. “Are you acquainted with him, Mr. Sedgewick?”
“You could say that.”
“Then perhaps you could tell me what he’s like. Since you seem so interested in my opinion of him.”
Morgan considered her. She was clever. Turning the question back on him. She would make a good barrister.
“He’s… a complicated man,” Morgan said finally. “Not given to following society’s expectations. Some find that charming. Others find it frustrating.”
“And you?”
“I find it useful.”
She tilted her head slightly, studying him. For a moment, Morgan wondered if she’d somehow guessed. But then, she simply nodded and turned back to the window.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence once more. Morgan watched the countryside roll past, but his thoughts stayed on the woman across from him.
Ellie Graham.
If that was even her real name. Refined accent. Guarded demeanor. Traveling alone to a remote estate to take a position that didn’t exist. She was running from something. Or someone.
And despite himself, Morgan wanted to know what.
The carriage finally turned onto the long drive, and Kirkhammer Hall came into view. It was, Morgan had to admit, an impressive sight. The house sprawled across the verdant green landscape, all pale stone and tall windows, framed by manicured gardens on one side and the wild expanse of the beach on the other. The sea glittered in the distance, endless and hopeful and blue.
He glanced at Miss Graham. Her eyes had widened slightly, and she leaned closer to the window.
“It’s… very large,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Morgan agreed. “I hear that the Duke is fond of space.”
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the main entrance, where a line of servants stood waiting. Morgan’s butler, housekeeper, and several footmen, all perfectly arranged and perfectly punctual.
Morgan stepped down first, then turned to offer his hand. Miss Graham hesitated, then took it, allowing him to help her down. Her touch was warm and soft, the delicate skin of her fingers making his pulse quicken. She looked up at him for a moment and her cheeks grew red. She moved a few steps away and stood on the gravel drive, staring up at the house, clearly trying to mask her awe.
“Thank you again, Mr. Sedgewick,” she said, turning to him. “I cannot tell you how much I?—”
“Your Grace!” Morgan’s butler, Mr. Jenkins, approached quickly, bowing. “Your Grace, welcome home. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow, but everything is prepared and the boys have arrived.”
Miss Graham froze. Morgan saw the exact moment understanding dawned. Her face went from pale to alabaster. Her hazel eyes snapped to him, wide and horrified.
Morgan turned to her, his expression calm. “Well then, now that the cat is finally out of the bag,” he said quietly. “Allow me to introduce myself properly: Morgan Sedgewick, the Duke of Kirkhammer.”
Chapter Three
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The words came out in a fever before Eliza could stop them. Her heart was hammering so hard she was certain everyone could hear it. First she had to temper her feelings with the most attractive man she had seen in a long time, perhaps ever, in a small, confined carriage ride-
No, not a man. A duke! That scoundrel!
