A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,101
travel to her family and show herself. We’ll need everyone to know that she is alive and completely unharmed by you.” She looked at Knightly. “Am I correct in assuming that you’ll attest to being unharmed by Declan?”
Knightly Snow let out a breathy sigh. “Of course.”
Helena added, “And that Shaw and you are very . . . friendly.” She shot Declan a raised-eyebrow glance.
“Oh, we are the very best of friends,” confirmed Knightly, throwing herself against him again. Declan stood like a post and allowed her to hang.
“Lovely,” said Helena, dropping his hand. “Are you such good friends that you would be willing to tempt the . . . disappointment of the palace by dropping the disguise and showing yourself? Now? For the sake of Declan’s exoneration?”
“Of course!” she said, hopping back. “The disguise was diverting for a time, but I’ve grown rather bored of it actually. And I bought so many lovely gowns on the Continent . . .”
In what Declan remembered as one of her signature gestures, Knightly Snow flung off her black cloak to reveal a tricolored dress, with yellow skirt, bright-blue bodice, and red sleeves.
The bodice was cut so low on her ample breasts Declan squeezed his eyes shut. Beside him, Helena was laughing. He opened one eye. Yes, it was true. His wife was so amused she’d put a hand over her mouth to hold in the laughter.
The hem of Knightly’s skirt was short enough to reveal trim ankles. He’d never seen so many vivid colors on such a small garment in his life.
“Do you like it?” Knightly cooed.
“Knightly?” he clipped. “Helena is correct. You owe me the, er, ‘favor’ of exoneration. We will go to your parents and show them that you’re alive—nay, that you are veritably bursting with life.”
“I’ve already been to Cornwall,” said Knightly. “Where do you think I’m staying in London? In our townhome. You are exonerated, Declan—and you’re welcome. I dare the palace to try and threaten me. I was exiled, plain and simple. And no amount of money is worth cooling my heels in a deserted French ocean village in winter.” She made a face.
Declan stared at her, trying to believe what she said. He looked to Helena. She was smiling a faint, cautious smile.
“Were you surprised?” Knightly now asked, jumping up and down. “Even a little? You were such a gentleman, so handsome and strong, on that dreadful journey to France. I couldn’t put it out of my mind, the thought of returning to England, surprising you, and . . .” she said as she extended two fingers and walked them up his arm like a spider, “. . . learning if you might like to—”
Declan grabbed her hand and detached it from his sleeve.
Helena said, “That is quite out of the question.”
“Well, there’s no need to be rude about it,” pouted Knightly. “I can see that you are married. Even if you have no ring.” She whispered to Helena, “Something I’d look into, if I were you, love.” She brightened suddenly. “But perhaps the three of us could have a bit of fun together—”
Declan said, “Oh God,” and ran his hand through his hair. He spun away.
Helena began, “And I think perhaps we’ve said all we need to say for this moment. How can we help you?”
And now Helena floundered. Declan opened his mouth, just about to suggest they escort her to the door, when the Duke of Lusk rounded the corner.
Declan turned to stone.
Helena made a small gasping sound.
The duke came to an unsteady stop before them and stared.
Knightly Snow said, “Oh, hello there!”
“Hello,” said the Duke of Lusk.
It was the most cordial thing Declan had ever heard the man say.
Seconds ticked by. The four of them were as still as the toga statue.
Finally, slowly, ever so slowly, Helena turned her head. She stared at Lusk.
Declan followed suit.
The duke ignored both of them. He was gazing with a startled sort of amazement at the colorful, bulging, preening Miss Knightly Snow.
Helena found her voice. “Your Grace,” she said carefully, “may I introduce you to a new friend? This is Miss Knightly Snow, most recently returned from the South of France. By way of Cumberland.”
“Cornwall,” corrected Knightly. “What a pleasure to meet you . . .” She let the introduction trail off because no one had had the presence of mind to introduce the duke.
Helena leapt to finish. “Forgive me. Miss Snow, please meet His Grace, Bradley Girdleston, the Duke of Lusk.”