Page 11 of Love, the Duke
Hurst had enough of her placing guilt on him. Deserved or not. He advanced on her. “What I will do for you, Miss Stowe, is agree not to tell your maman, guardian, trustee, or anyone else about this impromptu meeting, your reason for it, or how you presented yourself as a man. I suggest you don’t tell anyone about it either.”
She remained quiet, but her gaze held fast to his. That worried him. “Who else knows about your quest?”
“No one. I pinned all hope on you and your long-held friendship with Winston. You are the only one I’ve trusted with my plan to search book rooms. You don’t seem to comprehend the urgency of how short my time is to find this vessel before the livings are inventoried.”
Hurst felt her words deep in his chest. He was theonly one she trusted.A good way to stir a man’s need to protect and defend the weaker sex was to hear her say she trusted him. Was that the truth or had she said that on purpose to appeal to his masculine instincts?
He searched her face for false feelings and found none.Why, he had no idea, but the truth of it was he wanted to help her. But he couldn’t let that sway him or encourage her on this wild and unattainable quest of hers. It was nothing short of madness.
That truth didn’t keep all his earlier impatience from melting away at the disappointment he could see she felt. Hurst swallowed down the surging impulse to relent and agree to aid her in some way. What the devil could he do? Buying her Debrett’s book, hiring a couple of runners from Bow Street to investigate the theft, or anything else he could think of seemed no better plan than the flimsy one she had devised in that beautiful head of hers. All of them would be almost impossible for anyone to accomplish with success. It would be best for him not to encourage her in any way concerning this impractical scheme.
“Wanting to help your brother is admirable, but ill-fated for multiple reasons,” he said with all honesty. “When you are ready to accept this, I will pay for the loss of the chalice and ask that Winston be absolved from any involvement in the theft. That is all I can do for you.”
A flicker of despair passed over her features. “The sacrament is too valuable to be replaced so easily, Your Grace, even without its history. It is hammered gold with small rubies surrounding the middle. In monetary terms the silk bag to store it in might be worth more than the chalice. It’s embroidered in stunning South Sea pearls and the drawstrings are made of spun gold and silver. It’s not only that, I don’t want the memory of my brother’s name to be ruined or even touched with scandal for all time. I also can’t bear the thought the relic will be hidden away in some greedy old man’s book room, its history forgotten about, and all it will do is gather dust and silverfish to nibble on the bag.”
Hurst had never heard an impassioned voice so soft or seen eyes so beautifully saddened. Her plight went straight to his heart, making him feel like the worst kind of rake for casting her feelings aside.
She inhaled deeply and seemed to accept defeat admirably well, but then as she turned away, he caught sight of her expression as it shifted, and he, as sure as he knew his own name, realized that she had no intention of letting this go.
Exasperated, he turned and pulled the bell cord for Gilbert. When he turned back, she was gone.
