Page 40 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Burns laced his fingers together in front of him. “Her Grace is still belowstairs.”
Fredericka?
Wyatt whipped his head around to the butler. It was well past midnight. “Where is she?” he asked, taken aback by how swiftly his chest tightened upon hearing she was still belowstairs.
“I believe she walked into your book room some time ago and has remained there. She was in the drawing room most of the evening. Most of the day too. I didn’t want to retire in case she needed anything.”
“Thank you, Burns. You can go now.”
His butler reached for his outerwear things.
“Leave them for tomorrow. I’ll see all the lamps are out before I head up to my chambers.”
Burns nodded and slipped away as quietly as he’d appeared.
Wyatt wasn’t used to having anyone wait up for him. Had something more happened to disquiet Fredericka? Only one way to find out. He strode down the corridor and rounded the polished wooden doorway into the book room without breaking his stride—until he entered the room and stepped onto the deep-red-and-gold-colored rug that covered the oak floorboards.
Blast it!
She stood on a high rung of the library ladder holdinga candle in one hand and a book in the other with her body pressed against the framing to keep from falling.
“Fredericka! What the devil are you doing up there? And holding a light of all things. Get down before you catch your skirts on fire or burn the house down.”
“Good evening to you too, Your Grace,” she answered, sounding a little perturbed herself as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “I’m not likely to set fire to the house from up here and the flame isn’t near my skirts.”
“It could be if you drop it when you start down. Now be careful.”
“Don’t be a fusspot,” she answered in an easy voice. “I’m not a bumble-puppy, nor am I prone to accidents.”
“Nevertheless, let me have that,” he urged in an irritated tone as he made it to the bottom of the ladder and reached up to help.
Frowning, she bent low and handed the candle to him, then rose to her full height once again. She readjusted her footing so she was facing forward and staring down at him.
Wyatt placed the candle on the desk and stretched back for her. “Give me your hand and let me help you.”
He was quite sure his voice was persuasive, but Fredericka rebuffed him and made no effort to descend. Instead, she cradled the book she was holding to her chest and held on to the side of the ladder with the other hand.
“I made it up here by myself. I think I can get down without your assistance.”
Knowing her, he should have expected such a response. “I have no doubts about your capabilities, Fredericka,” he assured her, realizing he must have sounded as if he were ordering her when it wasn’t the case at all. Or maybe a little. But too, he didn’t want to take anychances she might trip over her hem and fall. “What are you doing up there and why aren’t you already in bed?”
Studying him from her seemingly comfortable perch, she gave him a shadow of a smile and calmly asked, “Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“Both,” he replied testily, not in a temperament to join her amiable attitude.
Fredericka didn’t respond. Except to lift her shoulders, which lifted her breasts, which lifted his spirits. For a moment anyway.
He quickly blew out a sigh of frustration. His head was pounding ferociously, and the backs of his eyes had started throbbing. Thanks to her, his bad day was getting worse. This wasn’t the time to have an engaging conversation with a lady who could arouse him without putting out any effort to do so.
Trying to remain composed, he said, “Let’s start with what you are doing on the ladder?”
“Good.” She gave him another smile. A bigger one, which lifted his spirits even more. “It’s always best to go for the easy question first and work up to the difficult ones.”
Wyatt’s lower body reacted to her sprightly manner. Perhaps she knew his head felt as if it were about to explode off his aching shoulders from lack of sleep, and she wanted to add her own style of delightful torture to his misery.
“I’m doing my best to read the titles of these books.” She went on. “The faint yellow glow from the lamp doesn’t reach nearly far enough for me to see the writing, so I had to do something about that. I do believe this room could use another lamp or two since it is a reading room.”
“Waiting for daylight would have solved that problem for you.”
