“She’s got you there, Geoffrey,” Rosy said with a bit too much glee.
“Yes, she does.” Geoffrey let his gaze trail down from her regrettably buttoned-up, dark-brown spencer to her gown of spotted muslin. “Would you like to join us for breakfast, my lady?”
“I’ve eaten. Although I could use a strong cup of tea, if you have it. And honey, perhaps?”
He gestured to the footman, who nodded and hurried off to fetch what she required.
She sat down beside Rosy and began detailing where they’d be going after they left the dressmaker’s shop.
“Oh, and Geoffrey is going with us today,” Rosy said innocently. “He needs gloves and . . . What else was it you wanted, Geoffrey?”
He stared at Diana. “Shoes. Particularly dancing shoes.”
She didn’t so much as blush at his mention of dancing. Perhaps she was as “cold” as she said she was.
He doubted that. “I hope to be doing a great deal of dancing at Almack’s next Wednesday. Did I happen to mention, Lady Diana, that I acquired the requisite vouchers for me, Mother, and Rosy? Apparently, the Patronesses there appreciate the opportunity to engage with a duke socially.”
“A properly dressed duke,” she clipped out. “Shoes rather than boots, breeches rather than trousers, a white cravat, and a chapeau bras.”
He cocked up one brow. “Do you really think they’d turn me away for leaving off any of those?”
“I know they would. They’ve done it before.”
“To a duke?”
“To an earl. Ask your friend Lord Foxstead, who tried to get in with trousers.”
That sounded like Foxstead. He shook his head. “Fine. I will attend as a ‘properly dressed duke.’ Thank God I have all those things.”
“Thank heavens you do.” The footman brought her tea, and she rose to take it from him, then set it down on the table. “Your Grace, might we speak a moment in private? There are some things regarding your account that I must go over.”
He nodded. “Let’s go to my study, then.”
They had barely reached it before she exploded. “Why on earth, after days of avoiding me, do you all of a sudden mean to ruin me by referring to our ‘dancing’—”
“First of all, I did not refer to ‘our’ dancing. I wouldn’t do that to you. Which is why my sister and mother took my reference to dancing as completely innocuous. Second of all, I could think of no other way to speak to you alone. To tell you that I would like nothing better than to ‘tutor you in the ways of . . . passion.’”
“And as I told you last night—that would be a huge mistake. I see that now. I have no desire to engage in an affair with a man heartless enough to mislead a woman because he lacked the courage to admit why he can’t marry.”
“I have reasons for my secrecy, for my reluctance to marry, that I dare not explain, to you or anyone else. But it’s not because I lack courage or compassion. I have plenty of both.”
“I’ve seen no evidence of it.”
“Fine. Then I’ll give you evidence of it. So much evidence you will grow sick of it.”
“That’s your prerogative. It doesn’t mean I will change my mind. Or at least not without a fight, Your Grace.”
“I’d expect no less of my goddess of the hunt, Lady Diana.”
“Your goddess of the hunt, sir? Bold words for a man lacking proof. You’re cocky, I’ll give you that.”
He came near enough to smell her strawberry scent. He wanted so badly to taste her, but not here, where they risked being seen. He would not embroil her in scandal if he could help it. She’d suffered enough of that already. “You haven’t yet seen me cocky, my lady. But you will.”
“You haven’t yet seen me stubborn, Your Grace. But you will.”
With that, she turned and walked back toward the breakfast room. He chuckled. What she truly hadn’t seen was him hanging about all the time.
That first day they’d met, she’d insisted on making him a more presentable duke. Fine, let her do so.
Because every time she started working on him, they ended up kissing. Or “dancing.” So he would just let her keep at it until they both landed in his bed.