“So, that is the infamous Blake the Rake?” Emily murmured, surveying the Duke thoughtfully. “Hardly the paragon of sin you paint him as.”
“I am as surprised as you are. I thought for sure he would be most unkind to his valet.” Jane shook her head.
“Oh no. Mr. Avon is a dear friend of the Duke’s. He served in the war but was injured. After that, he struggled to find work until the Duke hired him as his valet.” Cressida gave Jane a look that clearly said,See? I told you he was not the awful person you think he is.
“Perhaps I have been rather swift to judge him,” Jane begrudgingly admitted.
She was so used to seeing the worst in men, and they all seemed so determined to prove her right, that she may have been too quick to judge the Duke.
Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
It was, after all, what she wished people would do with her.
“Do my ears deceive me, or have you said something nice about me?” The Duke had clearly heard Jane’s remark. His piercing blue eyes danced with quiet amusement. “Are my charms perhaps thawing the good lady’s heart?”
“If you had any charms to speak of, perhaps,” Jane replied, any warmth vanishing at the Duke’s words.
Once a rake, always a rake.
“You wound me, though it is often said that the prettiest roses have the sharpest thorns. Which would explain rather a lot.” The Duke winked at Jane, who rolled her eyes. “And I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you.”
Emily smiled at the Duke. “I am Miss Emily Pembleton, Jane’s younger sister. A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
“And you, Miss Emily Pembleton.” The Duke bowed low, holding her gaze.
Jane felt a stab of irritation in her chest and moved between the Duke and her sister. “Come, Emily. We should leave His Grace to his unpacking. I would not want to prick him anymore with my thorns.”
“You can prick me as long as you like—I rather enjoy it.” The Duke winked at her.
Emily was laughing softly, and Jane scowled at her. “I can see we are in for a rather interesting few weeks.”
Jane sighed. She was quite certain that Emily was right.
ChapterSix
The Games We Play
“Are you going to be like this the entire time we are here?” Jane asked suddenly.
“Like what?” Blake canted his head, knowing full well what ‘this’ was.
“This—the verbal sparring. Because I would rather you refrain and we simply stay out of each other’s way. After all, we promised our friends that we would at least attempt to be civil to each other. I suspect this would best be achieved with as minimal contact between us as possible.” Jane turned away from him and began to walk towards the castle.
Blake knew that the prudent thing to have done was to allow Jane, her sister, and Miss Minton to head to the castle without him. After all, it was clear that was what she was trying to do.
He knew he should agree to her demands and let her walk off, but he found himself instead working to catch up with her and saying, “I cannot. I find I am drawn to your light, like a moth to a flame.”
“Are you not worried that you might suffer the same fate?” Jane asked, her eyes narrowing.
“What? That if I get too close, I might be burned?” Blake grinned mischievously at her. “I can think of worse fates.”
Jane gave him a flat look before turning to her two companions. “Would you give the Duke and me a moment?”
“Of course, I need to change for dinner anyway, and Cressida said she would help me pick out a dress.” Emily smiled and took the other woman’s hand.
“Did I? Oh. Oh yes, I did. If you will excuse me, Your Grace. I shall see you later.” Miss Minton curtseyed and departed with Miss Emily.
“I had not expected that you would want to be alone with me quite so soon—” Blake began, but before he could say anything further, Jane had closed the distance between them, catching him off guard.
