Page 94 of Better Than a Duke
Given that, tonight could be judged both a disaster and a triumph—or rather, a potential triumph. They hadn’t accomplished anything yet. At the library door he stopped, tugged on the bottom of his coat, and knocked on the door, unlocking it with his free hand as he did so.
“Enter,” Lady Pauline’s voice came, her tone a soft purr that made John’s hair stand on end.
He opened the door a crack, but didn’t enter. Not for a hundred quid would he have stepped inside that room. “My lady, my apologies, but Lord Hentrose has requested you meet him in the morning room. I’m to tell you he finds the ambiance there more… romantic.”
“Then shut the door, Butler,” she snapped, amid the rustling of clothes. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Of course, my lady. I shall wait.”
He didn’t wait. Instead, he hurried down a side corridor to the morning room, knocked, and unlockedthatdoor. “About damned time, woman,” Trent said.
“Your Grace?”
“The butler, damn it all. What is it, then?”
“Um, I’m not certain what’s afoot, but Mrs. Silbern just asked me to put out all the candles in the room. I don’t wish to inconvenience you, of course, but I thought you should—”
“Come in and do it, then, for the devil’s sake.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Butler kept his gaze fixed on the floor except for one brief glance to see the Duke of Trent seated on the blue couch, his jacket and trousers off. Well, they were going to have to burn the furniture now. Moving swiftly, he put out each candle in turn. The fire still crackled in the fireplace, but he shifted one of the wooden panels the dowager marchioness always demanded shield her from the fire and managed to block most of the light.
“Mrs. Silbern informed me she would be but a moment, Your Grace,” he said, backing out of the room and shutting the door on himself.
That done, he ran back up the corridor in time to catch the library door as Lady Pauline shoved it open and nearly slammed it into the wall. Her dress looked as impeccable as always, save for the trio of misbuttoned pearl clasps up her back.
“This way, my lady,” he said, turning to lead the way.
“I know the blasted way,” she snapped, yanking up a sleeve and stalking past him.
Her anger eased his mind. Young Becks wasn’t the only one to feel Lady Pauline’s wrath outside of Lord Hentrose’s sight and hearing. None of the staff had choked on an orange, but Masquerade wouldn’t have blinked if they had. She needed to not be a partof the household. If this plan didn’t work, of course, it washewho wouldn’t be at Raines House any longer.
Lord Hentrose was a fine employer and an exceptional father. John liked being in his employ. However, Lady Pauline Grenedy was another matter altogether. She didn’t deserve a place here among the Biscuits, or anywhere near the children. Child.Hmm. It already felt like young Master Edmund was part of the household. John hoped it stayed that way. That bit, though, was up to the Major and the Mongoose.
“Iris?”
Iris heard Beckett’s whisper from the front of his garden, and for a moment the pure… relief flooding every inch of her being left her breathless. Then came the regret and anger, mostly at herself, because he would be an engaged man by now. “Back here,” she said quietly, emerging behind the Grove House gate where she’d gone to hide. To think, rather. And to figure out whether she could make herself congratulate him on his engagement.
He strode up to her, tension in the line of his shoulders and his clenched jaw. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened,” she returned, curling her fingers to keep from reaching through the gate for him. “Not yet.”
“You’re going to have to explain that.”
She frowned. “What do you think has happened? And why do I have to tell you anything at all?”
“I’m not going to fence with you tonight, Iris. Rebecca said you’d come out here, and you looked upset.”
“Becks saw me? Oh, dear. I’m…” She trailed off. “I didn’t mean to look upset. I meant to look determined. Just… Get in here.” Opening the gate, she took his arm and yanked him into the Grove House garden. “I certainly don’t want Trent to see you when he comes out here.”
They were close enough now that she could see his eyes narrow. “You’re meeting the duke out here? This is our—” He took a visible breath. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What were you going to say?” Foolish or not, she wanted to hear it. Because now that the moment had arrived, determination only went so far. Particularly when every bit of her wanted to go tell Trent to warm his own bed, because she had better things to do—like be with Beckett Raines.
“I was going to say that this is wherewemeet.Ourlittle rose garden of peace and other things.”
“I didn’t choose the setting,” she snapped back, mostly because the very same thought had occurred to her. That Trent wasn’t allowed to be in the garden, because the garden belonged to Beckett and her.
