Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,41
I have a feeling the two of you will become as thick as thieves.”
“I doubt it. She’s a duchess.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I am a duke and that hasn’t bogged down our conversation.”
“Yes, but . . . it’s different with women. A duchess doesn’t have a need to be friends with a dowager countess who has few connections.”
The duke laughed. “Sam isn’t like that at all. I guarantee that you will become friends. Just wait and see. In the meantime, I have a request.”
“More than finding you a wife?” she asked, her brows arching at him.
He laughed again. “Since we are to spend so much time together, I would like you to call me Weston.”
Shock filled her. “No! I cannot do that, Your Grace. That wouldn’t be fitting at all.”
“I only meant in private. You may call me Treadwell in public but I would very much like to be friends with you. And my friends call me Weston. Except for George. He’s called me West from the beginning.”
She bit her lip, unsure how to reply.
“Come, now. Is it that so unreasonable? Your Grace before others. Weston when we’re alone.”
“It would be difficult,” she admitted.
“But not impossible,” he said. “May I call you Elise?”
The sound of her name on his tongue caused her to go warm again.
“Yes, Your Grace. Weston,” she corrected.
He gave her a charming smile, one that she was sure he used as a reward if someone pleased him. Elise very, very much wanted to please him suddenly.
“Then I will see you later, Elise.”
She bobbed her head and fled the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Elise was sitting with Claire, who’d just finished eating, when Dr. Cherry and Treadwell entered the bedchamber. She’d done her best to quit calling the duke by his nickname in her mind, working hard to think of him as Treadwell.
Or Weston.
She liked his Christian name and felt it suited him. She just didn’t know if she could use it aloud. First names implied an intimacy which would be inappropriate between them, especially since she was charged with finding him his duchess.
“How are my patients today?” the physician asked. “Ready for Christmas?”
“It’s tomorrow,” Claire said promptly.
“Indeed it is, my lady.”
“His Grace said we will go with him to church and then . . . where?” Her brow wrinkled.
“To my sister’s,” the duke prompted. “Her Grace, the Duchess of Colebourne.”
“Colebourne,” Claire repeated. “I like that name. What is your name, Your Grace?”
“Treadwell. Give your attention to Dr. Cherry, my lady,” the duke urged.
“How is your ankle feeling, Lady Claire?”
“Better. It doesn’t hurt. Mama made me sit in the chair and I haven’t walked at all.”
“That’s excellent news.” Dr. Cherry sat on the bed and lifted Claire’s ankle, turning it slightly. “How about now? Does it hurt?”
“A little. Well, not hurt. It feels . . .”
“Different?” the physician asked.
Claire nodded.
He manipulated it some more and then said, “Either I was mistaken and the ankle wasn’t as badly sprained as I believed or it’s the healing powers of the young. They seem to bounce back more quickly than the rest of us.”
“What does that mean, Doctor?” Elise asked.
“I’d suggest another day in bed or the invalid chair and then Lady Claire may begin putting a bit of weight on it.” He looked at his patient. “No running, my lady. Just walking around the bedchamber a few times the first day. A little more the next. Within a week, I think you’ll be up and about, moving with ease.”
“Oh, that’s very good news, Doctor,” Elise said.
“Let me see your wrist, Lady Ruthersby. I see you’ve abandoned the sling.”
“I didn’t need it after the first day,” she told him.
He moved it gently, circling it in one direction and then reversing. “Any pain?”
“None.”
“Are you doing your exercises?”
“I have been.”
“Keep up with them another week. Try not to lift anything too heavy. Other than that, I would say you are fine.”
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Cherry,” the duke said. “I wish you and Mrs. Cherry a very Happy Christmas.”
“The same to you, Your Grace.”
The physician left—but the duke remained behind. His presence brought a heightened awareness to Elise. Everything around her seemed more vivid in color. Stronger in smell. Physically, he seemed to take up much of the room, with his height and broad shoulders. Her stomach fluttered and she swallowed, tamping down the odd feelings stirring within her.
“Shall I read to you, Lady Claire?” he asked.
She nodded. “From my special book. It’s my favorite.”