Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,1

appropriately, though he’d refused to put on a cravat, despite Finan’s pleading looks.

“Your Grace,” he said as he walked into the blue salon. He rarely used this room, much preferring his library, which had a sofa made especially for his long frame. The sofa here was more of a love seat, which would be fine for two people of average height to sit on, but not for someone of Nash’s size.

The dowager duchess was seated primly on the love seat, her equally prim maid standing behind her. The poking cane leaned against the leg of the sofa, inches away from the dowager duchess’s hand.

Both ladies managed to look down their noses at him, despite their height differential.

Remarkable feat.

He hadn’t gotten a good look at her when she’d been in his bedroom, what with her running away at the sight of his naked chest and all. But now he could see the resemblance to his father; both of them had strong cheekbones, dark brown eyes, and a general look of hauteur.

A resemblance he knew he shared, unfortunately.

Unlike his father, however, his grandmother was slight, with gray hair pulled away from her face and fastened on the top of her head with an enormous bow. Her eyes looked keenly intelligent, and held a cordial warmth he had certainly never seen from his father.

He found himself regretting, for just a moment, not wrapping a hellcloth around his neck.

“Your Grace,” the dowager duchess said, inclining her head a fraction. “I have been remiss in not coming to see you—”

“Perhaps because I haven’t extended an invitation?” Nash cut in.

It was best to let her know who he was as soon as possible. That way she wouldn’t be disappointed later on.

She sniffed. Apparently made of strong stuff, his grandmother. A tiny part of him had to respect that.

“But I am here now, and I have some urgent business to discuss.”

Well, he knew that already. Else why would she have come? He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Bracing himself for her disapproval.

“Sit down.” She spoke as though there was no possibility of his not doing as she commanded.

So he sat, holding his breath as he lowered himself onto the chair that matched the love seat. It only creaked a little, and he gripped the armrests in a futile attempt at controlling whether or not it collapsed.

Perhaps he should redecorate. He had taken possession of the town house after his father died three years ago, but hadn’t bothered to change anything, even though he disliked most of it. It felt like another ducal duty, which he loathed.

Of course he discharged his responsibilities—he wasn’t like his father, ignoring everything except that which brought him pleasure—but he didn’t do the superficial things, like attend parties or be seen in the most fashionable parts of town engaging in frivolous activities.

Could that be why she was here?

And if that was so, why hadn’t she come when her son had died? Why was he just seeing her now?

His last memory of her must’ve been from when he was about ten years old, not long after his mother left. He’d been too confused, too distraught, and too terrified of his father to pay attention to visitors.

“Well?” he said impatiently.

She looked unsettled, and he wondered just what the hell kind of business she had to discuss.

“Is this about an allowance? I don’t know anything about those things. I let my man of affairs handle that.” His man of affairs who was another half brother.

“No. My allowance is adequate, thank you.”

“Good.”

The silence stretched, and Nash began to shift in his chair, the creaking noise audible in the room. His grandmother arched a patrician eyebrow.

“I did not like your father. My son,” she said.

That would explain why he hadn’t seen her in all these years.

“We have that in common, then.”

“I regret his behavior toward your mother. When I realized what was happening, I did as much as I could, which wasn’t very much, unfortunately.” She spoke in a tight tone.

The familiar tension—the anger that simmered within at all times—rose up in his chest, and he clamped down so he wouldn’t reveal his emotions. So he wouldn’t lash out. As he always did. Or at least tried to—hence his reputation.

“I gave her money to escape. Your father found out, and forbade me to come in contact with you. I should have come earlier. That is my fault.”

He couldn’t speak. “Escape. Do you know where she is?”

She shook her head. “I do not. I just hope