Chapter Four
“You’re blushing,” he said in a low voice.
The observation seemed to startle Lady Diana, which was probably why she shot back, “No, I’m not.” Even though she was.
By God, he’d made her blush, and he didn’t even know why or how. Careful now, Geoffrey. This way lies madness.
Still, he wished he could do it again. Seeing it stirred something wild in his blood.
“Anyway,” she said hurriedly, “Rosy probably didn’t tell you exactly what I said about Lord Winston because she didn’t want to add to your disapproval of him. Besides, it hardly matters if your sister is smitten with him for the moment. It makes perfect sense—he was the first eligible gentleman who paid marked attention to her. But by the time our work is done, Rosy will have many more acceptable suitors, and Lord Winston will fade from her memory.”
Did she really think it would be that easy? Geoffrey walked up to where she was sitting. “You seem rather sure of yourself and your abilities for someone who’s only known Rosy a day.”
“Two days.” She cast him a cool look. “Which was plenty of time to figure out that she can easily become the toast of London if she lets us help her.” To his shock, she reached out to tug on his watch fob. “I’m not so sure about her brother, however, because he continues to loom over ladies.”
He barely suppressed an urge to laugh. She really was a piece of work, never letting a body forget the rules while breaking them herself. He might not know much about her world, but he was fairly certain tugging a man’s watch fob wouldn’t meet anyone’s standards for high society behavior.
Now prepared for anything, he took a seat on the other end of the garden bench, so he wasn’t looming over her. With her sketchbook the only buffer between them, he had to resist the urge to look inside. Especially when she kept glancing nervously at it.
“You might know how to build a bridge or a canal, Your Grace, but my sisters and I know how to build a début. If you don’t trust us to do that, why did you even start this in the first place?”
She had a point. If he’d been dithering like this over a project, he would have been ousted at once. “You’re right. Forgive me for assuming that you, and not my sister, were in the wrong.”
She blinked. “Will wonders never cease—the great duke has stooped to offer an apology.”
“I won’t do it again if you intend to gloat every time I do.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “There’s something different about you today. Aside from the apologizing, of course.” She gave him a teasing smile that fired his blood. “Is it the hair? No, not that, because it looks much the same as yesterday. Could it be your walking stick? No, you don’t have one.” She tapped her chin. “I know. It’s your scent. You’re wearing Hungary water, aren’t you?”
He eyed her askance. “You know dam—perfectly well I’m not wearing any Hungary water, whatever that is.” And just to prove she wasn’t the only one who could be sarcastic, he added, “I’m wearing the same common scent I wear every day. You may be familiar with it. I believe they call it soap.”
“That must be it, then.” She smirked at him. “That and the fact that you’re dressed rather finely for dinner at home. You should be careful. With the storm coming, you may end up regretting your fancy attire. Especially when the rain muddies up your nice white stockings.”
“I have a carriage,” he drawled. “That’s how we dukes keep out of the rain.”
“You must be going somewhere special indeed if you put the carriage into use.”
“If you must know, I’m attending the Society of Civil Engineers monthly dinner as the Society’s guest. Despite what you think, I do know how to dress for something important.”
“So you do, indeed.” She turned serious. “But that’s the problem. You don’t consider Rosy’s future to be as important as your bridges and canals. You’ll dress finely for the latter and not for the former.”
He chuckled. “Clearly you don’t know me at all. I don’t dress finely for the latter either. High society in Newcastle-upon-Tyne is fairly limited, and until recently, after I inherited the dukedom, I wasn’t part of it. I’m not sure anyone in town even knew my father was the son of a viscount. Or if they did, they didn’t think much of it.”
“So why are you dressing so well today? For this event?”
To show you you’re wrong about me.
Right. He would never give her the satisfaction of hearing him admit it. Besides, it wasn’t just that. “I’m advising on the engineering of the Teddington Lock. That’s why I was invited to speak at the Society’s dinner. I dressed well out of respect for the men who attend it, all of whom are well-known in their field.”
“I see.” She cocked her head. “Tell me something. What exactly is a civil engineer?”
“An engineer who’s polite to his workers,” he quipped.
With a thin smile, she said, “I’m serious, you know.”
She folded her hands in her lap, and he noticed that not only was she not wearing gloves, but her fingers were stained black. From ink? Charcoal?
He was about to ask when she said, “Admit it, you think me some shallow female who does nothing important in the world, don’t you? Simply because I don’t design locks and dig canals, or whatever a civil engineer does.”