Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,29
lady’s maid, who stood behind her chair. The woman brought it to him, giving him a look that seemed to warn him: don’t disappoint my lady, or you will be sorry.
He admired that loyalty.
He took the paper, his thoughts churning as he read the names, none of which were familiar to him.
“Well?” the dowager duchess said in an impatient tone.
“I don’t know any of them.” He tossed the paper on the table between them, narrowly missing the sugar bowl.
Her mouth curled into a supercilious smile. “And that is why you are so fortunate as to have me here.”
“You forced your way in.” He hadn’t realized he’d spoken until he saw her look of surprise. And the lady’s maid narrowed gaze.
“I did so for the good of the family.”
He felt that impotent anger rise in his throat. “The good of the family would have been doing something about my father in the first place. The good of the family would have been twenty years ago, when my mother left me alone with that monster. You knew who he was, you said so yourself.”
The dowager duchess’s face crumpled. “It is my profoundest regret I didn’t do more at the time. I wish I could have ensured your mother was able to take you. But your father would absolutely not have allowed that. For that I am sorry.”
She sounded sincere.
“But I can’t change the past,” she continued in a stronger tone of voice. “I can only help you to correct the future. And the future lies with that list,” she said, pointing to the paper on the table.
He picked it up again, scanning the names. Lady Mary Arbuthnot. Miss Grace Collins. Lady Felicity Townshend.
“Lady Felicity—the one I met the other evening?” When he’d danced with Ana Maria in her silver gown, and punched that oaf, and wiped brandy from Ana Maria’s face.
“Yes. Which reminds me, we should add Lady Ana Maria to the list as well. I know she has Spanish heritage, but other than that, she is of impeccable breeding. The daughter of a duke, the cousin to another.”
“No.”
“And . . . ?” she said, raising one supercilious brow.
Because I already care for her, and we both know what happens when a man from our family cares for a lady. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk her.
Not that he could share any of that with this woman, the one who was determined to see the proper thing done rather than the right thing. What the right thing was he wasn’t entirely certain, but he suspected it would be to eradicate all the possible rotten men in his family by any means necessary.
Was that why he was so quick with his fists? Wanting to eradicate evil?
Hm. Far too much deep thinking for teatime.
“Lady Ana Maria is like a sister to me.” A lie.
“At least you know her, unlike any of these other ladies. And she is not actually a sister.”
Excellent logic, if one weren’t determined to stay away from the lady in question to protect her. In which case, it was probably not the smartest thing to have insisted he teach her how to defend herself.
Why couldn’t he have kept quiet then? He had no problem being sullenly silent most of the time.
Oh of course. Because otherwise she would be manhandled and worse. He had to say something. He had to do something.
But he couldn’t think of her in that way.
“I’ll consider the ladies on the list,” he said, snatching it up and stuffing it in his pocket. Anything to keep her from pursuing that line of questioning.
“Good.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now please ring for more tea. This has gotten cold.”
Nash had never been more grateful for the British aristocrat’s obsession with the perfect cup of tea as he was at that moment.
Chapter Eight
“You’re going to the Duke of Malvern’s home. For—?”
Jane sounded as skeptical as Ana Maria felt. Though it was likely Jane wasn’t also feeling a frisson of excitement at the prospect of punching said duke.
Not that Ana Maria felt that way, of course. It was purely her anticipation of a new and unusual experience, not the thought of seeing Nash in his shirtsleeves, or less, for God’s sake, as he demonstrated how best to fell an opponent.
Was it possible to swoon over just a thought?
She should not be discovering the answer to that question. Not in front of Jane, doubtful expression and all.
“The duke has said he would show me some things that will be necessary