Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,51
have more materials to choose from and she will be more informed as to what is in fashion.”
“You don’t have a seamstress,” she accused.
Oh, she was too clever by far.
“Whether I do or don’t, you’ll be taken care of in London. My sister has recommended the perfect modiste.”
Her eyes grew large. “I can’t have you buying me a wardrobe. What would people think? That I’m a . . . kept woman?” She began turning red.
He almost choked. “No. It won’t be like that.”
“What will you say when we wind up in each other’s company during the Season?” she asked.
“That we are family friends.”
“Can a man and woman ever be just friends?” she asked pointedly.
“In our case, yes.”
He did want to be her friend. He also wanted to be her lover. Her everything. The more time he spent in Elise’s company, the more he wanted her. Weston supposed it was in the chase. The having to wait. That was what made her so delectable. So tempting. He told himself to remain calm. In a few months, he would make it obvious to her that they suited more than anyone else.
Then he could finally have her in his bed. As his wife.
The carriage stopped. Claire stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes.
“Are we here, Mama?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Do I have to go to lessons with Joseph and Josiah today?”
“No. We won’t start those until tomorrow.”
“Elise,” Weston said, his tone warning her.
“Well, someone has to teach them until a governess can be hired.”
He frowned at her as his footman opened the door. Weston climbed from the carriage, holding his hands out to take Claire. He swung her to the ground and she giggled. Then he reached for Elise. His fingers grasped her waist and he brought her to the ground, holding on for just a moment longer than necessary.
Turning, he saw not only several servants but the earl and countess awaiting them outside, despite the chilly day.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Lord Ruthersby said, bowing low.
His wife echoed the greeting and curtseyed deeply.
Weston looked at Elise and gave her a silent I told you so. She quickly glanced away, one hand coming up to hide her smile as she took her daughter’s hand.
“Good afternoon,” he told the couple and gazed at them pointedly. When they looked at him cluelessly, he cleared his throat. Still nothing. Finally, he moved to Elise and placed her hand on his forearm and said, “I am sure it is also good to see your sister-in-law and niece again.”
“Oh, yes,” the earl said, understanding finally penetrating his thick skull. “It is very good to have you back at Briarcliff, my lady.”
The countess still didn’t acknowledge Elise and said, “Won’t you come in, Your Grace? It’s terribly cold out here.”
He allowed the pair to move ahead and led Elise and Claire inside the house. The butler took his greatcoat and Elise’s cloak.
“Mama, I’m tired,” Claire said.
Immediately, Elise picked up her daughter. As they moved up the stairs, she told Weston, “I will take Claire to our room and get her settled.”
The countess turned, a tight smile on her face. “You can see to the boys, as well. They have been . . . a handful in your absence. Stay with them while we take His Grace in to tea.”
By now, they’d reached the top of the first landing and Weston said, “No.” His tone was calm. Firm. Brokering no objections.
Still, the idiotic current countess said, “Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Your Grace. She always cares for our boys. Until she was gone the past two weeks. It really was a most inconvenient situation.”
Anger stirred within him. “I’ll help get Lady Claire settled,” he informed the countess. “Send a maid up to stay with her so that Lady Ruthersby might take tea with us.”
“But she never . . .” The countess’ voice faded away as he stared at her intensely. “Oh. Certainly, Your Grace.”
With that, Weston removed Elise’s hand from his arm and lifted Claire, holding her close. She was a tiny thing, with skinny arms and legs and wonderfully large, soulful eyes the same shade as her mother’s. He hurried up the next flight, sensing Elise behind him.
The earl called out, “We’ll be in the drawing room, Your Grace.”
He didn’t bother answering.
“It’s this way,” Elise said when they reached the top floor, leading him down the corridor. She stopped at a door and opened it, indicating for him to go in.
It was incredibly small. A room meant for a governess, not the former lady