The duke was as handsome a man as Loretta had ever seen, with wide masculine lips, a narrow nose, and a slightly square, clean-shaven chin. He was the most arrogant, too. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, and powerful-looking dressed in buckskin-colored trousers that were stuffed into over-the-knee boots. A well-fitted brown velvet coat with shiny brass buttons lined down the front and on the sleeves did little to hide his muscular build. Rain droplets clung to the ends of his thick light-brown hair and had dampened the edges of his collar and neckcloth.
Standing before her so splendidly male, she could easily believe he was one of the notorious Rakes of St. James she’d read so much about. The trio of titled gentlemen had proved to a stunned Society that every young belle wanted to be pursued by a secret admirer. Looking at him, Loretta could understand why, even after he’d demonstrated his notably roguish ways, ladies all over London still vied for the Duke of Hawksthorn’s attention. From what she’d read in the scandal sheets he and the other unwed rakes were sought after by young misses, aging widows, and beautiful heiresses.
The duke’s eyes, such a deep shade of green, held steady on hers. The seconds were ticking by and still he hadn’t responded to her offer of lodging for the night. Manners had dictated she ask him. But what would he say?
The nerve-racking silence between them lengthened until at last he said, “Thank you, Miss Quick, but out of respect for your reputation, I’ll stay in the stable.”
So he was a gentleman after all. Loretta pushed her disturbing thoughts about the duke to the back of her mind and forced herself to take control of her stirring emotions.
Her breath clogged her throat, but she managed to answer, “No, Your Grace. Just as you won’t allow a lady to care for your horse, I can’t let a duke spend the night in an earl’s stable. This state of affairs in which we find ourselves is not something over which we have any control. There’s no need for you to be out in the cold on such astormy evening when there are so many rooms in this house.”
“I’ll accept,” he said with a nod, “if you are sure it won’t be a burden on you.”
Mammoth House was an apt name for the stone building that was her home. It was massive. The rooms were large, the corridors wide, and the ceilings high. Though in truth, she wondered if it was big enough for the both of them to reside in for a night.
“Not in the least. Mrs. Huddleston, Bitsy, my maid, and two other servants are here with me. I am not alone.” She paused and then added, “And I am not helpless.”
A twitch of a grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “That I have already determined; however, I believe you are implying I should take your last comment as a warning?”
It didn’t surprise her he was so astute.
“I would never presume that I should need to warn a duke about such established matters.”
“But it was a warning just the same, wasn’t it?”
His tone remained light. Loretta lifted her chin. She wanted to keep a straight, unaffected face, but in the end a smile quivered on her lips, too, as she said, “It was a statement of fact, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps your forthright manner is why I’m so intrigued by you, Miss Quick.”
Is he?
That thought had her feeling as if bees were swarming in her chest and butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“It’s not my desire to intrigue you.”
“That’s quite obvious, too. And I know you are as fascinated by me as I am by you.”
Loretta frowned deeply. “You couldn’t know that even if it were true. Which is isn’t.”
“I know,” he insisted in a husky voice that sent a prickling of something wonderful skipping over her skin. “I see it in your eyes.”
Loretta sucked in a deep and, she hoped, soundless breath. Could that possibly be true? Some people were more perceptive than others, but—did she dare to refute his claim again?
She hesitated, searching for the right words.
“While you contemplate your answer, Miss Quick,” he continued in the same lighthearted tone that washed over her as soothingly as warm water, “I think you should know that, as outspoken as you are, I don’t expect you to deny what I see so clearly.”
Oh, he was a perceptive brute.
Of course she was attracted to him, and he was a miserable beast for realizing she wanted to disavow his assessment of her. But he was wrong if he thought to goad her into admitting anything.
She forced herself to relax. “I fear you mistake the reason for my interest in you.”
His brows rose. “Really?”
“It’s only natural that I should be a little awestruck, Your Grace.”
“You? Awestruck? If so, you have an odd way of trying to get that point across.”
