Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,40

you refused me years ago? Because—”

“The duchess sent me to fetch you,” came a voice from the door. “Dinner will be served soon, and she thought you both might wish to change clothes.”

Taken off guard by the footman, Olivia felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“Are you ready to return, Miss Norley?” the footman asked, holding his lantern high.

“Yes,” she said.

“We both are,” Thorn put in, his voice as icy as a duke’s should be.

Because of her frank remarks? Or simply because he’d realized that he had gone too far and now wished to recoup? Either way, she was grateful for the reprieve from being alone with him.

“Just give me one moment to see to something,” she said, and hurried back to the hearth.

She’d known there would probably be no more phosphorus under the sand, but she pretended to search for it while also checking herself for any lingering signs of her recent . . . adventure with Thorn. She’d die of mortification if she arrived at the main hall looking like a slattern just come from a man’s bed. Although if the footman had arrived while she and Thorn were . . .

Heavens, that didn’t even bear thinking on. No one would ever take her seriously as a chemist if she got caught doing such a fool thing. Certainly no man would ever marry her.

She blinked. Since when did she care about marriage? This was what came of letting the man tempt her to distraction—she began craving things she’d never even wanted. Curse him for that!

Gathering her defenses about her, she marched back to where the two men stood waiting for her.

“Is everything all right?” Thorn asked, seeming to have thawed a bit from before.

“It’s fine. We can go.”

They left then, pausing only to secure the door with a heavy lock. That was another reason his lordship’s choice of the dairy was excellent. Dairies were sometimes locked to prevent thieves or animals from stealing or eating the cheeses stored there.

As they set out down the path, the light died enough so that the footman’s lantern was welcome. Fortunately, it also prevented the two of them from having another private conversation.

They walked in silence a good way before Thorn spoke. “Tomorrow is the exhumation. Do you mean to witness it?”

“Oh, Lord, no,” she said. “Your brother knows what I require, and the local coroner will be there to help him . . . er . . . harvest it.”

“You don’t wish to make sure it’s done properly?” he asked.

“My field is chemistry, sir. I know nothing of that science, I’m afraid, and have no desire to learn it. I can complete my experiments perfectly well from the comfort of my laboratory.”

“I think I shall go,” Thorn said. “I’ve never seen an exhumation. And after this, I may very well have to—” He caught himself for the second time since the footman had arrived. “It doesn’t matter. Suffice it to say, I have a personal interest in what happens.”

“Then by all means you should attend, Your Grace.” Thorn lowered his voice to a murmur. “So we’re back to ‘Your Grace,’ are we?”

“I think that’s best,” she whispered.

“Like you think it’s best if I don’t go to the laboratory with you?”

“Precisely.”

“Best for whom?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. The truth was, she had no idea, and that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon.

Thorn had hoped to get Olivia alone after dinner, but as soon as she and Beatrice went to the drawing room to await the men, they’d apparently spent a short while talking and then had gone up to their respective bedchambers. Or so the footman said.

That left him and Grey to drink and smoke and discuss nothing of consequence. Until . . .

“You like her, don’t you?” Grey asked as he poured himself another glass of brandy.

“Of course,” Thorn said. “Your wife is delightful, which I seem to recall telling you last year before you even married her.”

Grey arched one eyebrow. “I wasn’t speaking of my wife, and you know it.”

With a stony stare Thorn set his empty glass in front of Grey. “I’d rather not talk about Miss Norley. It will only lead to an argument.”

“Actually, I’m beginning to come around to your view of things concerning her.” Grey poured some brandy for Thorn. “I don’t know if she can do this work. The footman I sent to call the two of you in to dinner said there had been some broken glass and a smell of burning in the air