“Like a sunset,” he murmured.
“Especially the ones we’ve been having of late,” she commented. Her eyes widened. “So youdolook out the windows,” she accused, a smile brightening her face.
He chuckled. “Sometimes. As for the formal gardens, I do see them from above when I dare to look out,” he commented. “I cannot imagine they are as impressive from the ground, though.”
“The patterns aren’t immediately apparent,” she agreed. “But when you stand in the middle, it’s quite beautiful.”
“Perhaps I’ll... venture out. This spring,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against fireplace mantel.
“Under an umbrella, should you not wish to see the sky,” she suggested.
He gave a start. He had never thought to block out what was above him with something as simple as an umbrella. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you would join me.” The odd sensation he had experienced earlier, a pleasurable spasm that seemed to affect his chest, had him holding his breath.
Angelika inhaling softly. “I would like that. We’d have to do so before the Season begins, though.”
“Oh?” He couldn’t help the note of disappointment in his voice.
“My father has arranged for my aunt to sponsor me for my come-out. It’s a bit late, I know, but I’m to stay with him in the capital while Parliament is in session,” she explained. “He has a townhouse there, but no one to act as his hostess. As I do here.”
“So you are not yet betrothed?” he asked. Not having met many women in his life, he had no idea of her age, but he knew better than to ask.
She shook her head. “I haven’t exactly met many men.”
“We have that in common,” he murmured.
She stood and waved to the door. “We should probably move to the parlor, Your Grace.”
He furrowed his brows. “But, why?” He glanced around, rather liking the decor of the bedchamber. There were chairs in which to sit, the fire was putting out more than enough heat, and there were no servants about. “It appears tea has already been brought,” he commented, his gaze captured by the biscuits.
Angelika inhaled to respond and then stood. “Would you like a cup?”
“Indeed,” he replied, hoping his growling stomach wasn’t audible.
“How do you take it?”
“No sugar or milk,” he replied.
She made her way to the low table where the tea tray was set and poured him a cup. “It’s not really proper for me to be... alone... with a man. Without a chaperone,” she stammered as she handed him the cup and saucer. “Biscuit?” she offered.
He plucked a lemon biscuit from the plate and placed it on his saucer, his brows furrowing when he saw her hand was trembling. “You needn’t fear me, Angel,” he said. “I am not a... not the beast I have come to learn some think I am.”
“Oh, it’s not that, Your Grace,” she replied. “It’s not that at all.”
He blinked, one brow furrowing even deeper. “I introduced myself as Andrew hoping you would call me that,” he said.
Angelika blinked. “Your Grace? But now that I know you are the duke—”
“Andrew,” he stated.
She seemed about to put voice to a protest and thought better of it. “Then I shall call you Andrew.”
“I will not take advantage,” he said, heartened when she displayed a momentary look of disappointment. “Except maybe to ask for another biscuit.” He gave her a grin that had his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Her eyes darted to the side before she allowed a titter. “You may have all of them if you’d like,” she said as she held out the plate. “Please, do make yourself comfortable.” Apparently realizing he would not do so until she settled into a chair, she retrieved her tea from the nightstand and joined him by the fire.
He had already eaten his first biscuit when he took a steadying breath and let it out. “Would you be so kind as to tell me what it is you have heard about me?”
Her mouth formed an ‘o’ before a scoff sounded. “I would hardly be kind to repeat—”
