Project Duchess - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,22

she said tartly. Then she caught herself. “Forgive me, Your Grace. That was too blunt.”

“Would you please stop that?”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I meant to say ‘Grey.’”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Stop apologizing for saying what you think. It’s what I do every day of my life.”

That made her stiffen. “Because you can. You’re a duke, and a wealthy one at that. No one is going to stand up to you, and if I had any sense, I wouldn’t, either.”

Her forthright retort made him chuckle. “That’s more like it.” When she blanched and opened her mouth, he added, “Don’t you dare apologize for that.”

Her eyes glittered at him. “I wasn’t going to.”

“The hell you weren’t.” When she glanced pointedly down to where his hand still gripped her arm, he released her. “Looks like it’s my turn to apologize. Forgive me for manhandling you. Though I get the impression that everything I do annoys you.”

With a furtive look down the hill to make sure the dogs were still in her line of sight, she said, “That’s not true. You were kind enough not to tell my cousin about our . . . heated exchange when we first met.”

“Was it heated?” he quipped. “I hadn’t noticed.”

That brought a small smile to her lips. “Liar.”

“I tell you what. How about if we pretend that I am not a duke and you are not my mother’s latest pro—” He caught himself before he could say, “project.” “My mother’s protégée. Let’s pretend, for the moment, that we are merely two people with no ulterior motives. I will say what I think, and you will say what you think, and neither of us will apologize.”

“Why?”

“Because your stopping to apologize is taking up far too much of my valuable time,” he said with a smile. “You see? That’s how it’s done. I will be my usual arrogant self, and you will be your usual forthright self, and we will get through this together with a minimum of fuss.”

And perhaps she would reveal some useful secret about her brother. Not to mention that he would get to see the real her more often.

She eyed him askance. “I thought you were supposed to be preparing me for moving in high society. I doubt that in such a case I should be saying whatever comes into my mind.”

“I agree—you should not. Unless it’s to me alone. As long as no one else hears, as long as it’s between us, it will be perfectly acceptable. And it might actually keep you from blurting out the wrong thing elsewhere.”

Coloring very prettily, she said, “So you’ve noticed my tendency to . . . er . . .”

“Blurt? How could I not? It’s the thing I find most refreshing about you.”

“Truly?”

“I swear.” He thrust out his hand. “So, what do you think? Do we have a bargain?”

She hesitated before taking his hand. “I suppose. As long as what we say goes no further.”

“I can’t promise that.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, making her slip her hand from his and her brow cloud over. Hastily he recouped. “Mother is going to want to know everything we said to each other, and I’ll have to tell her something.”

Her face cleared. “Oh. I’m sure that’s true.” She touched one gloved finger to her chin and shot him a mischievous glance. “Very well. You may tell her that my come-out lessons are progressing wonderfully.”

He laughed. “Come-out lessons?”

“That’s how I’ve been thinking of them.” She lifted one eyebrow. “It’s better than thinking of myself as your mother’s latest project.”

He winced. “You caught that.”

“It’s all right,” she said lightly. “Sheridan called me her ‘project’ first.”

“I would apologize, but it would go against our new rules.”

She smirked at him. “Indeed, it would . . . Grey.”

Now that was more like it. When she was like this, teasing him, with her eyes dancing, he could easily imagine her in an evening gown, flirting with some fellow at a ball. Preferably him.

Damn it to hell. Not him.

She turned to look down the hill, and her smirk vanished. “Oh no, the dogs are into the gorse again. I should have been paying better attention. If I don’t keep my eye on them, they get bored. A pox on them!”

The lady cursed, too? Sheridan hadn’t been lying when he’d called her a hoyden. Though when she picked up her skirts and bolted down the hill, it was a woman’s stockinged calves Grey saw flashing white above her

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