A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,101
voice. “I know it’s presumptuous, but you need to see her.”
“Of course, I need to see her and make it right. Do you think I’m a philistine?” His valet didn’t answer him, which made Christian feel even more like the scum in a pond. Katherine was intelligent, possessed a lovely humor, and had that rare ability to comfort others when they were hurting.
He’d wanted to give her everything he possessed. He wanted to spend every hour of Katherine’s day, week, and life with her. He’d be content watching her work all day.
He shut his eyes briefly. The truth was, he loved her.
“Thankfully, Willa didn’t meet her at the door,” Morgan added. “I don’t know what I would have said to her if she saw her mistress come into the house at such an hour.”
“Thank you, Morgan, for seeing her home.” Christian turned around and faced his valet. “I’ll leave right now.”
“Shall I accompany you?” Morgan asked.
“That won’t be necessary.” Christian couldn’t tell if his valet’s offer was out of duty or friendship. Either way, he appreciated the support, something he clearly needed. But he’d visit her on his own. It wasn’t every day a man asked a woman to spend the rest of her life with him.
“Just remember, Willa carries a dirk at all times,” Morgan offered unhelpfully.
Christian grunted.
A curt knock sounded on the door. Silent, like a clipper ship cutting through the night, Wheatley appeared in the room.
“Good morning,” Christian called out. He returned his attention to the mirror as he fiddled with his neckcloth. He wanted to look his finest for Katherine today. “I’m on way to see—”
“Lady Meriwether?” With his shoulders thrown back like a soldier at attention, the impertinent butler refused to look at him. “That’s entirely wise, if I may say so, Your Grace.” Wheatley finally regarded him with a stare normally used for unwanted visitors.
“I’m relieved you approve,” Christian answered, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.
Wheatley shrugged. “But the real reason I’m here is to inform you that another shipment has arrived of your brother’s belongings.”
“What is it this time?” Christian asked, clearly not interested.
“Your brother’s … collection of erotic art,” Wheatley said sheepishly. “It’s statuary. Fifty pieces.” The butler sighed.
“Store it in the attic,” Christian answered.
The butler’s eyes widened.
“Leave it in the front of the house or destroy it if it pleases you,” Christian said in a voice that would brook no dissent. He straightened his coat. “I don’t care what you do with it. I have business to attend to. I’m off to see Lady Meriwether.”
The butler delivered one of his rare smiles, and Christian nodded in acknowledgment. As he exited his dressing room, Wheatley called out a farewell.
“Excellent, Your Grace. Don’t worry about a thing. I know what to do with your half brother’s art collection.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Numbers swam before Katherine’s eyes. Before the shop opened in a couple of hours, she had to complete the bookkeeping today if she wanted to know how much money she had to order materials for the Prince Regent’s linens. Some of the lace would take months to import if she didn’t order it now. The gold thread that the linens required would cost a fortune.
She let out a silent sigh. Her heart wasn’t interested in work today. It wanted Christian, and so did she. They’d shared the deepest intimacy a couple could ever experience, and she’d run out of his bedchamber faster than a spectral being could permeate a stone wall. What could she possibly say to explain her behavior?
Your Grace, I’ve pretended to be a lady of quality and I’m nothing of the sort. By and by, I’m a begging bastard who has no idea whom her father is, but I’ve created a marvelous story about his existence. Did I mention that I’ve been convicted of thievery?
The clock on the wall struck the hour of nine at the same time a knock sounded on the door.
The only person here was Thaddeus Warren, her ex-pugilist bodyguard. Katherine rose from her chair. “Come in, Mr. Warren.”
He peeked his head in. “Oi sorry, milady, but the Duke of Randford is here to see you. Since it’s not opening hours yet, I thought it’d be all right.”
“Thank you. Please send him in.” Her heart tripped in its beat.
Warren opened the door wider, and Christian stepped into her office with his hat in his hand.
“Good morning, Lady Meriwether.”
Goose bumps ran amok down her arms at the deep thrum of his voice.
“Thank you, Mr. Warren,” Christian said with a smile.