What a Duke Wants by Lavinia Kent Read Free Book Online Page B

should say that I saw the top of his hat when he left this morning.” She tried to make a joke, wondering why Mr. Smythe suddenly seemed so somber. “I wouldn’t even have known it was him if Mrs. Wattington hadn’t said so. She’s quite put out that she hasn’t met him yet. It seems he keeps to his rooms once he arrives and is not interested in visitors. Mrs. Wattington hinted to his staff that she would be more than happy to keep him company if he grows bored and needs genteel companionship, but she was most pointedly ignored—at least that’s what she says. It has put her in quite the foul mood.” Isabella tried to shut her lips. Her words were rambling and Mr. Smythe showed little interest. His mood seemed distinctly odd.
    “Does talking about the duke upset you? Is there a problem between you?” If he wasn’t going to say anything she would tackle it head-on.
    “Why would you think that?” he snapped.
    Isabella just laughed. It was so nice to worry about somebody else’s difficulties. She imagined that was the reason she’d been eager to see Mr. Smythe again despite the risks and the favors she’d have to do for the maid who watched Joey. She’d seen a man in a blue coat in the taproom when they’d arrived today. It was why she’d been peeking out the window when the duke arrived. Both her fingers and toes were crossed that it was not her follower. Surely many men must have blue coats, mustn’t they?
    “I am sorry,” he said after a moment, drawing her from her thoughts. “I do have a sometimes difficult relationship with the duke. We do not always want the same things.”
    “And I would imagine the duke mostly wins.”
    Mark laughed at her words, a bit of his usual lightheartedness returning. “I would say the duke always wins.”
    “That’s too bad. He should listen to you more often. I find you quite sensible.”
    “I am not sure he would agree with you. Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned toward her.
    She stopped breathing as she stared into his dark eyes. His breath brushed along her cheek. “Anything,” she whispered.
    “It’s why I like being with you. I don’t have to think about the duke when I am here.” His eyes dropped to her lips.
    She was not going to lick them. She was not. “That’s why your mood shifted when I mentioned him.”
    He looked back up to her eyes. “Yes, I don’t want the duke to have anything to do with our meetings.”
    “If that’s what you want.” Was he going to kiss her? It felt like the moment. Should she lean in closer? No, it had been only a day. She couldn’t want his kiss yet, could she?
    He stepped back suddenly and strode to the center of the yard, looking up at the windows. He scowled as if he’d seen something unpleasant. “I will need to go back in soon. The duke will be missed.”
    Isabella wasn’t sure that made any sense, but she didn’t wish to talk about the duke anymore. She pushed herself off the stairs and dusted the back of her skirt. One nice thing about the dull gray Mrs. Wattington demanded that she wear was that she could sit where she wished and not worry about dirt. She grinned to herself as she imagined sitting on the coarse wood steps in a delicate silk ball gown. She’d have left half of it behind trapped by splinters.
    “Something amuses you.” Mr. Smythe stepped back toward her.
    “I was just thinking how quickly life can change.”
    “It certainly can.”
    “It makes it hard to know what to wish for. All the things I wanted when I was younger seem so silly now.”
    “You make it sound like you’re an old hag. You can’t be more than twenty.”
    “Twenty-one actually, but I feel much older.”
    “Yes, you are quite ancient.”
    She took a step nearer to him. “Sometimes I do feel it. There are so many things I wanted that I imagine I’ll never have now. I think giving up dreams makes one old.”
    “That’s much too serious a thought for such a moonlit night.”
    She reached out, hesitated, and