Tears burned the back of her eyes, and guilt churned her fading desire to regret. “I stayed away too long.”
She felt the object of her guilt shift beside her, but she focused her attention on Mr. Brinkley, a man she’d known since infancy. “How’s your arm? Did it heal after that fall in Fellow Pleasure Park?”
Mr. Brinkley’s unbridled smile did wonders for her conscience. “All healed.” He rotated his shoulder to demonstrate. “That salve you used on it did wonders.”
This time, Danny could not ignore the shifting wall of maleness beside her, not when the air around them seemed to drop twenty degrees at the movement.
She whirled on him, irritation and frustration making her blunt. “What?”
He didn’t balk at her tone. His own was too quiet when he asked, “You put salve on his shoulder? Wouldn’t that be difficult with the man’s clothes on?”
Her brows scrunched. Was the man daft? “That’s asinine. Of course he removed his shirt before I applied the medicine.”
His voice pitched lower. “Is that right?”
Danny took in his clenched jaw and hard gaze, disbelief coloring her voice. “You’re angry with me?” He couldn’t have been serious. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Let’s leave my ridiculousness out of this, shall we? You admit that you rendered aid to this man without proper dress.” He tilted his head, looking like an owl prepared to swoop down and gore his unsuspecting victim.
Good thing Danny smelled the rat.
“Where was this exactly?” he asked. “A crowded garden party? At an evening meal with the entire household staff present?”
She clamped her lips together, willing to give him the details when hell froze over.
“We were in the back shed,” Mr. Brinkley said, confusion plain in his voice. The grateful smile he threw her way didn’t help. “I’d fallen, as Lady Daniella said. A bad one. My shoulder was so sore, I barely managed to get into a sitting position. But she heard my shout and came running from the maze, used her own handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my face and helped me find a seat in the shed.” He shook his head as he regarded her with that same warm smile. “I never saw a lady run like that.” He turned now to the predator next to her, where his kindness wasnot so well received. “Ran all the way back to the house, strong-armed Cook into giving up a canister of her miracle herbs and rushed back. A right heroine.”
“Yes.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice. “A regular lady turned saint.”
Danny’s temper snapped. “That’s rich coming from a man who claimed he was an American merchant. What are you supposed to be today? A baron? An earl?”
They stared at one another, ready for a lengthy stalemate.
“He’s a duke, actually,” Mr. Brinkley said.
Danny startled. A quick glance to confirm he was serious, and she spun around to look atthe dukein his lying face. Was that how he’d gotten onto the estate? “Since when are you a duke?”
He sighed, the sound tired and full of emotion Danny swore was resignation.
“I don’t know. Does the title pass as soon as the paperwork is filed or upon stepping foot on the premises?” He ran a hand over his face. “If the latter, then this morning. A decidedly long morning.”
Mr. Brinkley—clearly unaware of the tension—rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Sorry about running off, Your Grace. I’ll be sure to keep you in my sights when I show you the rest.”
Show him the rest? “Mr. Brinkley, you can’t seriously be catering to this man’s whims?”
Mr. Brinkley nodded, seemingly without taking offense. “Who else would show His Grace the grounds?”
Danny felt the blood drain from her face. He’d become a duke this morning? A bad feeling wormed its way through her stomach. Whatever outrageous thought her imagination was conjuring, it couldn’t be true. When Papa’s solicitor had saidthe new duke had been disbelieving, surely, he couldn’t have meant...
At a shout originating from somewhere outside the maze, Mr. Brinkley winced and asked the man beside her. “Apologies, Your Grace, again. But if I may be excused? There’s a fallen tree in the yard that has the stablemaster hot around the gills.” He nodded to her. “Lady Daniella knows the maze better than any of us, and seeing as you two are already well acquainted—”
“We’re not acquainted.” Danny couldn’t believe it. There was no way Uncle Jack’s precious home and grounds had anything to do with the man beside her. Shewouldn’tbelieve it.
Mr. Brinkley blinked. He glanced between the two of them, seeming to write his own scenario of them stumbling upon one another in the maze, both alarmed at the intrusion and unable to continue without proper names. He straightened his shoulders and seemed to remember his exalted position as a duke’s servant as he said with great formality, “Then if I may? Your Grace, may I present Lady Daniella Deime, daughter of the Earl of Bromley.” He turned to Danny.
She held her breath and prayed.
“Lady Daniella, may I present to you Percival Cole, Duke of Grandfellow.”
