Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,17
knew of it, they probably wouldn’t. Papa would blame Mama for not looking after me better, and Mama would simply be appalled. She prefers I live the life of a pampered lady of rank.” She sighed. “I find that sort of life boring.”
He couldn’t blame her—the older he got, the duller he found circulating through polite society himself. Wait, why was he sympathizing with her? “In other words, you don’t always follow the rules, unspoken or otherwise.”
“Now you’re baiting me.” She looked away, studying the water of the fountain as if to determine what made it shimmer in the moonlight. “You know perfectly well I broke the rules rather spectacularly when we first met. I generally try to follow them. I just don’t always succeed.”
Her reference to their night at the Devonshires’ ball sent him right back to that dimly lit library and the feel of her feminine curves, the taste of her mouth, and the smell of frangipani and jasmine that seemed to follow her everywhere—an exotic fragrance for a decidedly unexotic woman. He wondered if she still tasted as luscious, if her skin was still as silky.
He ached to touch her and find out.
The thought made him stifle an oath. Clearly she wanted him to remember their kiss. That was her way of getting him off the subject. But he wouldn’t let her distract him.
“So you’re not taking money for these experiments,” he said coldly. “You’re just doing them to enliven your boring life? Or perhaps you have no intention of performing them at all. Doing experiments on a corpse doesn’t sound like the sort of pastime a young lady enjoys. So perhaps you merely mean to spend a week or two away from home, having a lovely time at a wealthy duke’s expense.”
For a moment she gaped at him. Then a scowl marred her smooth brow. “You really are the most annoying fellow I have ever met.”
When she turned, as if to march back into the ballroom, he caught her by the arm. “You’re not leaving until you explain your real reason for doing this.”
“First of all,” she said as she snatched her arm free, “not that it’s any of your concern, but I will not be experimenting on the corpse. As the local magistrate, your brother will be overseeing the exhumation of his father’s remains, and I have given him a list of what parts will be useful for testing.”
That took him aback. It implied a certain amount of planning that he wouldn’t have guessed she would involve herself in.
“Secondly, I am doing this to gain better credentials. This set of experiments will establish me as a chemist of renown, since none have succeeded in using the existing tests for arsenic on a long-buried body.”
That raised a different concern. “So you intend to publish your findings.”
“A chemist is only as good as his—or her—publications, and I have only one to my name.” She tipped up her chin, sending moonlight flowing over her golden hair. “Of course I intend to publish the results. Why wouldn’t I? Other chemists do.”
“Other chemists aren’t testing the remains of a duke of the realm.” He swore under his breath. “Does my brother know of your plans to publish?”
“If he doesn’t, he’s not very bright. Why else would I take on the task?”
“But you haven’t explicitly told him.”
Her lips tightened. “No. I assumed there was no need.”
“He might feel differently.” Catching her by the shoulder, he turned her to face him. “Here’s another unspoken rule of society for you. Dukes don’t dabble in anything scandalous. And nothing is more scandalous than murder. My brother isn’t going to want his private affairs talked about in the press simply because you wish to enhance your standing as a chemist.”
She stared at him unblinking. “But his father’s murderer can’t be brought to justice without a trial, and nothing is more public than that.”
The chit was clever. He’d give her that. “Still, your test can’t prove who poisoned Grey’s father—just that it was done. We don’t want to tip our hand to the murderer until we’ve actually found the villain. That means you might have to keep quiet about your results for some time. Are you willing to do so?”
Looking wary, she searched his face. “If that’s what it takes to gain justice for your brother’s father, I am perfectly willing . . . for a while, anyway. It benefits me to have my name linked to the case eventually. That is how Valentin Rose’s methods