Page 24 of Love, the Duke
Ophelia rubbed her elbow again. “It probably worried her when he didn’t come home by dark.”
“It did. I thought she’d be angry and start reprimanding him, but all she did was hug him close and tell him not to do it again.” A faraway gleam appeared in his eyes as he nodded. “And I’m sure Winston felt it was nice to have someone love him enough to worry about him.”
His words and expression made her wonder more about his past. She remembered something Winston had said about the duke. With his mother passing when he was young and his father away most of the time for reasons Winston didn’t know, the duke had a lonely childhood living between various relatives and his father. As she looked at him now, that seemed hard to believe. A man who would become a duke one day was passed around from family to family. She was aware that not all parents were as loving and close as hers and her heart squeezed.
As she looked at the duke, she recalled what’d he said about arguments between him and his father the first time they’d met. Then, as now, she’d thought of asking him more about his past and his relationship, but suddenly it was as if he sensed she was going to. His expression relaxed and he took a step back. It was as if he’d said too much and didn’t want to talk further about it. And it really wasn’t the right time. Instead, he walked over to where his gift for her mother was sitting and picked up the sketches of the crests, quickly sifting through them.
Looking at her, he asked, “What are these?”
She felt her back tighten. “Drawings I made earlier today.”
“Family coat of arms?”
“Yes. I’m happy to hear I sketched them finely enough for you to know what they are.”
“You have a true and steady hand with a pencil, Miss Stowe.” He glanced at them again. “These are perfectly good. I meant, why did you draw them?”
She saw no reason not to tell him. He wasn’t going to help her anyway. “I drew them from what Mrs. Turner remembers of the crest on the thief’s carriage door.”
“Suspected thief,” he corrected in a noncondemning tone as he walked back over to her. “Even after our talk last night, you aren’t going to give up your search, are you?”
“Give me those.” Ophelia reached for the parchment, but he pulled them back. “They were not meant for you to see, sir.”
He made no move to relinquish her treasures but started thumbing through them again. “I’ve never had a reason to be well-versed in the crests of current titled families, but this one looks familiar. It’s not accurate, but it could possibly be the family of Lord Gainstay or Viscount Mullensgrove.” He glanced up at her doubtfully. “The other three look very much the same, but the birds are different. All birds of prey, I think. The armor is well-done.”
That was encouraging. “It’s good to know Mrs. Turner came up with a modicum of accuracy. This gives me a real crest to look for and not just something made up from her imagination. Thank you for telling me. I suppose you realize that you have helped me even though you had no intention of doing so.”
“No, Miss Stowe, this does not help you. I can vouch for the character of Gainstay and Mullensgrove. They are not interested in a chalice from the church.”
She tweaked her shoulders in defense at his immediate rejection of his help and that the men might be considered. “How can you be so sure?”
He tapped the papers against the palm of his hand. “There are things a gentleman might be privy to that he does not reveal to a lady. Take my word for it that both have the utmost integrity and solid character that does not bear looking into for thievery or any other criminal activities. I daresay Mullensgrove hasn’t even been in a church since he was a boy, if then.”
“Even men with character can fall from grace,” she remarked, needing the crests to get her the results she desperately wanted.
“I’ve done it myself a time or two,” he answered quickly.
Her brows rose in interest.
“We are not going there, Miss Stowe. The simple fact is that if I thought either man was capable of such an act, you wouldn’t have to go after them; I’d do it.” He extended the sketches to her. “You can mark them off your list. And while you are at it you can remove the Duke of Stonerick as I assume you have the Duke of Wyatthaven. I’ve known both men since our school days. I’ve been in their homes almost as often as I’ve been in my own. I assure you what you search for is not there.”
“Well…” She hesitated, looking at him with mistrust in her eyes. “Perhaps I’ll just put them all at the bottom of the list,” she said, leaving him with a reminder she wasn’t going to give up, no matter how hard it was to reconcile her disappointment with the eagerness inside her to keep trying, no matter that all the odds were stacked against her. Now more than ever she needed the duke’s help, and he still refused.
She took the drawings from him, walked over to the secretary, and opened a drawer and placed them inside. Her mother could see them after the duke left. While her back was turned, he had picked up the church registry shehad also left lying on the table. The saints of mercy must have fled watching over her.
Why hadn’t she thought of putting that book away when she finished with it earlier? Because it would have never crossed her mind that the duke might visit her. She wasn’t surprised about him being so curious about what was lying around her drawing room. He didn’t want to help but yet he wanted to know everything she was doing.
“What is this?” she asked, stalking toward him. “Do you plan to peruse all my private things while you are here?”
“Not all,” he said absently, clearly more interested in what he was perusing than her disdain for what he was doing. “These were in plain sight for anyone to see. I am not searching your home without your knowledge. You are standing right beside me.”
“Why are you so interested in what I have collected to aid me? You don’t want to help me, so this is none of your concern.”
He looked at her as if he couldn’t imagine why she’d asked the question. “I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“I need no help for that.”
Ignoring her firmly stated comment, he asked, “What is this log of dates and names?”
