Page 21 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

Only from his old friend, Mr. Wilbur, would Alex have taken the warning with such good nature. “You sound much like my mother.”

Alex glanced around the familiar room. “As for what you can do for us, I am here to show Lady Patience the bookstore I was so fond of throughout my youth. We will just take our time and browse for a while.”

“Very good. If you need help, let me know. I am afraid these old bones don’t do well holding up this worn body anymore, so I will be resting in a chair right there by the front window.” He waved in the direction of the large plate glass window where several books were displayed.

Alex waved toward the bookshelves. “My lady.”

Patience grinned at him and made her way to one of the shelves. The only thing better than seeing old Mr. Wilbur again, and spending time in this bookstore, was watching Patience as she browsed the shelves, sliding a book out, flipping through the pages, and returning it to choose another. Apparently, her love of books mirrored his.

They spent more than an hour showing each other books and discussing the merits of which to buy, and which to consider for another time. At last, they each put two books on the front counter—loudly, for Mr. Wilbur had fallen asleep in his chair.

“Ach, so you are ready? I was just resting my eyes for a bit.” He groaned as he stood and made slow progress to the counter. He checked the books and gave them an amount. Alex reached into his pocket and withdrew coins and placed them on the counter.

“I will pay you for the books when we return to the Abbey,” Patience said as they gathered their purchases and left the store.

“Nonsense, why can’t I buy you a book or two?”

“’Tis not proper.”

He leaned down, close to her ear. “I will tell no one if you don’t.” He nodded back toward the store. “I don’t think Mr. Wilbur will be visiting London anytime soon to spread the word of my dastardly deed.”

Lord, it felt good to tease Patience, walk in the sunshine, and hold new books. For a while, he’d forgotten all about his newly acquired duties and everything that encompassed. For a while, he was merely Lord Alexander Pemberton, seeking an escape from the Abbey.

He had yet to come to grips with the kiss they’d shared the night before. Did he still feel the same about Patience? There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her. Certainly, in his bed, but as a lifetime partner? He’d changed so much, while she’d stayed close to home. He also had not questioned her regarding her comment about Cyrus’s death.

“I’ve been wondering about your remark on Cyrus’s death being the happiest day of your life.” He hesitated, wanting to ask the question, but afraid to hear the answer, lest he feel the need to visit his brother’s grave and spit on it. “Did he abuse you in any way?”

She avoided his eyes, studying her shoes as they walked. “No.”

Alex examined her face, wondering how far to push her. “Why do I think you’re not being completely honest?”

“Can we not discuss him?” She smiled, and hurried their steps. “I prefer to concentrate on the idea of a glass of Mr. Gates’s wonderful apple cider. I’ve heard so much about it, and I am anxious to try it.”

Allowing the subject to drop, he escorted her to the famous inn. He held her close to his body as they entered the dimness of The Cock and Tail so she wouldn’t stumble. With his uncanny ability to see in the dark—which had been quite handy when he was in the military—he was able to lead them to a seat in a darkened corner of the room with ease.

“My goodness. It is certainly dark in here. And this table seems to be in the darkest corner of the room,” she whispered as he took the seat next to her, almost as if the darkness required silence.

He leaned in, close to her ear. “Do you see that as a problem?” The scent of her, along with the dimness, cast everything into a mysterious ambience, wreaking havoc with his blood supply.

Her breath hitched. “No. As long as I am not in any danger.”

It was impossible to hold back a grin. “Oh, my lady, you are definitely in danger.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “But maybe you enjoy taking risks?”

“It depends on who is creating the threat.” Her voice cracked, but she regarded him with one raised eyebrow.

He rubbed her knuckles over his lips. “Or perhaps the type of danger?”

“I would guess after your war experience, you are more familiar with danger than I am.” She gave him a saucy look, but all the joy in their exchange disappeared as visions of bloody battlefields swamped his mind.

“Yes.” He dropped her hand.

Not picking up on his change in mood, she said, “What was it like, fighting a war?”

He closed his eyes, the muscles in his middle tightening. “Awful. And nothing a lady’s ears need to hear.”

He realized how abrupt he sounded when her s

mile faded and she drew back. Just then, Mr. Gates approached their table. “Good morning, Your Grace. Apple cider for ye and yer lady?”