Page 52 of Love, the Duke
“Did you happen to think I might be busy?”
“There is no need for you to sound and look angry,” she accused.
“Do I?” He threw up his hands in frustration. “Maybe that’s because I am. Of all the men in there, what were you doing talking to Mr. Sawyer? I saw you playing cards with him at the garden party. You know him, Ophelia. He could have recognized you by your blue eyes, your voice, or your perfume.”
Perfume?Startled, she hadn’t considered that. She’d never given a second thought about her morning toilette routine of adding fragrance to her chest and arms with bergamot. It had been engrained in her.
“It doesn’t matter how Mr. Sawyer perceived me,” she answered without much conviction. “He was too busy looking for someone more important to talk to than to study over the likes of me.”
“You are damn lucky he was. And I told you toneverput on those clothes again.” Changing course, he growled, “No, damnation, I told you toburnthem.”
Ophelia gasped and reached for the glass of brandy from the table as if needing the alcohol as fortitude to sort through this shamble of a conversation. Aghast, she questioned, “Did you just swear in front of me?”
“You’re damn right I did.” He didn’t even blink at swearing again. “If you are going to wear the clothing of a man, you might as well hear the vulgar language of a man.”
“All right, fair enough,” she stated, her own ire rising. “I will. And just to be clear, I think you told meyouwould burn them, but in any case, it’s a good thing I didn’t dispose of them because I needed them again.”
Clenching his teeth, his jaw tightening, he seemed to swallow back another oath. “You don’t need the disguise to get in to see me, Ophelia.”
Taking on a defensive stance, she snapped back, “I can’t come to your door alone dressed as a lady. Would it have been a better idea if I’d hidden myself in that chest and had it delivered to you wrapped with a bow?”
He held on to a glare as if flinching one iota, he’d come unhinged. “And be slapped again after I get you out a second time? No thank you.”
That was too much, even from the duke, who had begun to know her more intimately than she’d ever perceived a man would. And likewise, she had learned things about him she treasured close to her heart. All that said, her sensibility had been besmirched, and she had no choice but to take him to task in some way.
“No true gentleman would bring that unfortunate event up to a lady.”
“What’s going on in here?” came a masculine voice behind her.
Ophelia twisted around toward the entryway. Two well-dressed men with easygoing strides entered the room and stopped just inside the room staring at them.
The gentleman with chestnut-colored hair narrowed his gaze onto the duke. “Hurst, what’s this about?”
The other man locked his eyes on Ophelia, and she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. It didn’t dawn on her someone might have followed them and heard them arguing. A flush of heat swallowed her.Hidden, chest, bow,andslappedwere not words she’d wantanyone to hear from their conversation. Neither would the duke.Merciful heavens!The duke would never help her now.
Clearing his throat, the gentleman with the light-brown hair observed wisely to Hurst, “It sounds as if a storm has been brewing between you two a long time. Let’s calm it for now, Hurst. You have some introductions to make. You can save the explaining for another time.”
“And next time you decide to have a row, it would be best to close the door before you start.” Which the other man immediately accomplished.
Sage advice, but Hurst ignored them, though the scowl remained on his face.
These men had obviously heard her and the duke arguing. For how long, she didn’t know. She would assume by her voice they would know she was a lady, and the way they were looking at her left little doubt. It wasn’t her intention for anyone to know, but what could she do now? The damage was done.
Intent to slow the hammering beats in her pulse, and without thinking how it would look, she picked up the glass, brought it to her lips, and swallowed two hearty gulps of the brandy as fast as she could. Which was the wrong thing to do. Immediately, wheezing and coughing plagued her again as she tried to catch her breath.
“Give me that liquor,” Hurst ordered through clenched teeth. “It’s the last thing you need.”
Ophelia did as he asked, and the duke set the glass on the piano top with a thud. Facing their visitors, he relinquished the awkward moment by turning to the gentlemen and saying, “Your Graces, may I present Miss Ophelia Stowe. Ophelia, the Duke of Wyatthaven and the Duke of Stonerick.”
More dukes?She did the only thing she knew to do.“Your Graces,” she said, and as properly and humbly as possible, she pulled on the side legs of her trousers and curtseyed.
“Miss Stowe,” the Duke of Wyatthaven said, holding his smile in check. “Hurst has mentioned you to us, but we never envisioned a lady such as yourself.”
She was sure of that. His kindness made her feel all the worse, knowing she had searched the man’s home for the chalice.
The Duke of Stonerick grinned without restraint as he looked at Hurst. “You never told us how delightful she is in trousers and a wig.” Formally addressing Ophelia, he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Unable to bear the attention of six eyes staring at her a moment longer, she whispered, “Thank you, Your Graces. I’ll take my leave now and let you get on with your club meeting.”
