The man’s chest puffed up, his smile broadening as he helped the countess sit. “Once, but now they are three and four. I’ll collect them from my sister next month.”
His lordship looked more at ease. Whatever he’d confessed to the countess seemed to liberate him. Lady Shrewsbury had a calming way about her.
“My dear,” she said as she tapped my hand, “why don’t you go get paper, so we can make a list of the things you need?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The duke held out his hand and blocked my path. “I can provide for her.”
“I’m sure you can.” Shrewsbury poured Lord Gantry a glass of the lemonade. “But she needs some personal things.”
Lifting from his seat, the duke moved to the doorway leading into the house. “There’s nothing I cannot get for her.”
“It’s just paper, sir. You know? The thing you use to make schedules. I can go get it while you sit and have more lovely lemonade.”
He frowned, puckering his lips. “No, thank you. Stay, ma’am.”
“Mrs. LaCroy, go get it,” the countess said. “Duke, sit. She needs things that I know you are familiar with, but I am sure she’d rather you stayed out of her stays.”
“Oh,” The duke said as he mouthed, “stays and corsets.”
The two were giving me orders like I was a compliant rag doll but witnessing the duke murmur about by undergarments was too much. I moved quickly and slipped under his arm. I didn’t touch him, didn’t brush against or wrinkle his pressed jacket or the sweet sashes.
“Quick thing. I’ll follow, Mrs. LaCroy. I have something to ask you.”
The duke caught up, a boot length behind me. There would be no gathering my papers today, not with him giving chase.
Done with being on edge, I stopped, and he bumped into me.
His arm went about my middle as if to steady me. “Sorry.”
I wasn’t. His chest was solid, the hold was nice. His medallion pressed into my spine. The prick of the star’s points might be the only thing keeping me from turning my cheek to his.
“Are you steady now, lass?”
“Are you sorry to hold me, sir?”
The duke released me. “No. Yes. We must talk.”
Why talk now when I was all ruddy and bothered and sure to make a fool of myself? I scooted behind the marble gods for protection. “You go get the countess some foolscap. It only takes one of us. One.”
When it seemed as if he’d heed, I blew out a breath and sank against the hidden door.
Jemina was right about me liking the duke and about the chandelier. Someone had raised it without all of its glass globes. The job was half-done. The velvet sleeve covering the pulleys was pulled down, exposing the mechanisms. Very sloppy.
The duke barged into the nook. “Mrs. LaCroy, we need to talk now.”
It was inconvenient for him to tower over me with his wonderful height covering me in shadows. Fine job of Agassou! No protection at all from the duke’s pretty eyes. “What do you want, Your Grace?”
“Admit that I’m not reckless.”
“No.”
His head reared back, almost knocking into the sandaled heel of the lesser god. “Will you admit that I held my seat well? I was good on my mount. Shires are a gentle, sturdy breed, smooth in their stride, like me.”
“You didn’t fall. Great.”
“I saw you observing, LaCroy. You could have more enthusiasm.”
