Page 27 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

His voice stopped her in the doorway.

“If we are to be a convincing engaged couple,” he drawled, “then you must call me Christian.”

She swallowed but did not reply.

As she scurried away down the corridor, light, mocking laughter accompanied her all the way until she was out of earshot.

CHAPTER 8

“Why, Lady Thalia, it’s not like you to sleep so late!” Mabel exclaimed, throwing open the curtains.

Thalia groaned, pressing her face into the pillows. “I was not asleep. I was simply lying in bed, wishing to sleep.”

Mabel threw her an unsympathetic look. “Well, you’ve missed breakfast. It wasn’t kept for you.”

Of course, it wasn’t, Thalia thought bleakly. Jonathan always punishes me for missing mealtimes. Or missing anything that he has scheduled.

Well, she wasn’t hungry, and if she was, she could quite easily ask Mabel to fetch her something.

“Your bed looks as though it hasn’t been slept in,” Mabel added, frowning. “Generally, your sheets are all in knots of a morning. Did you not sleep well?”

No, I didn’t. I didn’t return home till late, and then I lay awake for hours, thinking.

And Thalia had a great deal to think about; that was for sure. The Duke—Christian—lay at the heart of it all.

She sat up, yawning. A tiny meow caught her attention, before a blur of orange fur flew through the air, landing neatly on the end of her bed.

“Oh, Orange,” she sighed. “Did I lie in bed too long? Did I miss our morning games?”

“The wretched cat has been yowling around the kitchen for ages,” Mabel chuckled, tickling Orange’s ears as she went by. “He missed you.”

“I shall try not to lie in bed so long tomorrow,” Thalia promised. “I had… strange dreams, that’s all.”

Strange dreams. As if her meeting with the Duke could be written off as merely strange dreams.

Mabel turned back from the window, hands on her hips. She surveyed Thalia, still in bed.

“You seem in no hurry to get up,” she observed.

Thalia frowned. “Why? What’s the rush?”

“Ah,” Mabel sighed. “I daresay I should have started with that. You have guests, My Lady.”

Thalia flinched. “Guests? Why? Who would come calling so early? It’s far too early for calls. Are you sure you aren’t mistaken, Mabel? Perhaps they are Jonathan’s friends.”

“That they are not,” Mabel snorted. “I don’t know how to explain this, My Lady, so I’ll simply say it. The Earl and Countess of Trowbridge are waiting in the parlor downstairs. What’s more, the Duke of Thornhill is with them.”

Thalia blinked. Had she fallen back asleep after all? Was this all some kind of dream?

No, reality resolutely refused to budge.

“Oh,” she managed faintly.

“Are they expected? His Lordship did not seem to think so.”

“Is… is Jonathan downstairs with them now?” Thalia squawked.

“I’m afraid so. He looked a little nonplussed, but the Duke does not seem to be the sort who accepts a no. So, they’re all standing downstairs, very cozy and pleasant. On an unrelated note, I should hurry down if I were you. The Duke says that he is here to see you and won’t go without seeing you.”