candelabra, then opened her reticule and pulled out a small box. It proved to contain quite a few vials.
“Good God, what is all that?” he asked.
“Smelling salts and cosmetics for Mama, since she has no room in her own reticule for them.” She opened a vial and tapped it until a white powder filled her palm. “This is bicarbonate of soda. It’s good for indigestion.”
“And removing wine stains, apparently.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled up at him, and he caught his breath. Her smile transformed her from a pretty woman to a breathtaking goddess. As she moved the candelabra closer, he could see that her eyes were the warm green of jade. She had a sumptuous mouth, peach-tinged cheeks, and a nose that tipped up ever so slightly. He found all of it charming.
“Forgive me,” she said, seeming oblivious to his staring, “but I must put my hand beneath your waistcoat in order to clean the stain properly.”
“Would you rather I removed my waistcoat entirely?” he asked, knowing that the request was inappropriate and wondering how she would respond.
She brightened. “Oh, yes! That would make it much easier.”
Clearly she wasn’t put off at all by his lack of propriety, which he found amusing. He shucked off his coat, then unbuttoned and removed his waistcoat before handing it to her. After placing her handkerchief beneath the waistcoat, she went right to work on the spots, first dousing them with the champagne and then covering the diluted stains with the white powder she called bicarbonate of soda. The spots foamed up, taking him by surprise.
She held out her hand. “Give me your handkerchief, if you please.” After he did so, she used the clean parts to blot up the foam.
To his amazement, he could hardly see the stain anymore. It looked as if he’d merely spilled some water on his waistcoat. “Where did you learn to do that?” Thorn asked.
She took his waistcoat over to the fireplace and waved it back and forth in the heat from the fire, ensuring that even the water would evaporate. “From my uncle. He’s a chemist.”
What an odd family. No doubt she’d amassed all sorts of cleaning formulas from her relation. According to Gwyn, women were expected to know such domestic things even if they didn’t perform the cleaning tasks themselves.
Miss Norley came toward him with his waistcoat. “There. That should get you through the evening at least. Although you should have your servants give it a proper cleaning as soon as you get home.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he said, attempting to match her serious tone. Taking the waistcoat from her, he put it on. “How can I repay you? Perhaps with some eye of newt and toe of frog to fill out your vials?”
“Why would I want those? They would be of no use to me whatsoever.”
Clearly she’d never read Macbeth. Or if she had, she’d forgotten the toil and trouble scene with the witches.
Chuckling, he buttoned up his waistcoat. “Then perhaps I’ll ask you for a dance.”
A look of sheer horror crossed her face. “Don’t you dare! I’m the worst dancer in Christendom. And since young ladies aren’t allowed to turn gentlemen down—”
“What? I don’t know that rule. Though it does explain why everyone always accepts my invitations to dance.” He winked at her. “And here I thought it was because of my irresistible charm and dashing good looks.”
“Everyone accepts because you’re a duke, sir. So please don’t ask me to dance, or I’ll end up making a fool of us both. You wouldn’t like it, I assure you.”
He shook his head. “You’re an unusual woman, Miss Norley. I’ll give you that.”
When he pulled a bit of his cravat out at the top, she frowned. “Oh, dear. You have spots there, too. I should—”
“No need. If you will just rearrange the folds of the cravat to hide the spots, no one will be the wiser. I’d do it myself, but there’s no mirror in here.”
“Right.” She began to tug here and tuck there, reminding him of his initial suspicion of why she’d brought him in here in the first place.
“You do that very well,” he said. “You must have practiced at it.”
“My uncle has no valet, so I sometimes have to do the honors if he’s expecting a guest.”
“Admit it, Miss Norley. You did not lead me in here solely to clean my waistcoat and reorder the folds of my cravat.”
Her gaze shot to his. “I don’t know what you mean. Why else would I do