The manager grinned and nodded at his last words.“How can I help, Your Grace?I mean, we have plenty of work here, but I think you might give some folks apoplexy if you waited on them.”
Thinking of his valet’s words, he said, “I have an idea, if you’d care to hear it, and I welcome your thoughts on how to implement it.”
Chapter Eight
Evie had been careful to stay out of sight during the duke’s and marquess’s visit, keeping her head down when she could not avoid their presence.On the second day, as they were saying their farewells in the front hall, the Duke of Cranbrook glanced at her then snapped his head around to look a second time.But when she quickly ducked into a room, he didn’t say anything to Lord Rutland.
When her employer had questioned her, he had believed her story that she’d gained her wisdom working in a London home.She’d worried he’d question it, but it seemed he was either that ignorant of the gap between the aristocracy and their servants or that desperate for assistance regarding his new world.
She could not have planned a better way to evaluate him as marriage material than spending a few hours a day helping him.As a bonus, she no longer had to cast surreptitious glances as she worked to admire his physique.If anything, her aunt had understated his uniqueness.The man was built like no duke she’d ever seen.He could be one of those pugilists so popular in London these days.His shoulders were twice the width of hers, above a trim waist and tree trunks for legs.’Twas a good thing this duke could afford bespoke clothes, as no ready-made trousers would fit his proportions.Between all that, his arresting face, and that damned throat hollow that beckoned her, she worried she would not be able to focus on the laws which heretofore had been her highest priority.
She raced through her duties the next morning, having a rough idea of his schedule.He generally read papers and ledgers until he was so confused and frustrated he couldn’t focus, only to take a quick break before calling in Munroe to go over his questions.Afterwards, he either walked or rode some of his agitation away.So, she anticipated him calling for her later in the afternoon.
She was correct.Walking into his office, she dipped into a shallow curtsy.“You rang, Your Grace?”
“Miss Mullens, may I—?”He cleared his throat.“Please sit down.”
“See?You’re getting the knack of it.”She smiled at him as she lowered to a visitor’s chair across from him.When one side of his mouth curled up in amusement, she bit back a gasp.For all his rough edges, open-necked shirts, and almost permanent frown, he was breathtaking when he smiled.Her heart might have missed a beat when his cheek creased and his eyes twinkled.
A splendid attribute in a husband, but his leanings in Parliamentary matters and his treatment of women were still to be determined.At least being on his payroll, she’d already crossed off any concerns about how he dealt with servants.If anything, he deferred too much to them, as he had with her the previous day.
He gestured to the largest pile on one side of his desk.“These are items Munroe cannot help me with.Mostly bills from the House of Commons, headed to the House of Lords, I think?”
She nodded.
“And a few invitations.Munroe managed the ones from this region.These are from London.”
“Those will continue to flow in.Dukes are in great demand.Their presence at one event can elevate a host or hostess’s reputation for an entire Season.”
“Why?”
“Because your set is the most powerful in the kingdom, barring the Royal Family.”She shrugged.
“But…a party, or dinner?”
“You’d be surprised at how much business is conducted at these social events.Second only to the clubs.I’m guessing Mr.Lancaster informed you which memberships you have inherited?”
“A club?”He thought.“Perhaps it was the place named after a color?Black’s?”
She stifled a giggle.“White’s.You were close.”
He raised a brow.“Are you laughing at me?”
“Oh, that is perfect.A very ducal expression, Your Grace.You should keep that in your repertoire.”
His omnipresent frown returned, his jaw ticking.“You’re dismissed.”
She gulped a breath.Oh dear, he was upset.She would be, too, if she had to learn every aspect of a new life and some servant sat laughing at her lack of knowledge.
She stood to execute a lower curtsy than her first.“Your Grace, I must beg your pardon.’Tis difficult for me to fathom someone so unfamiliar with all aspects of the aristocracy.However, I was not laughing at you.I would never.I want to help you.The contradiction of black and white was simply amusing.Please.I am sorry.”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.“Apology accepted.Sit, please.And enough with the curtsies and the Your Graces.I apologize as well.This is frustrating, and so much of it feels pointless.By this time of day, I am often short-tempered.So many rules and prancing around to observe ‘etiquette.’Life in the public house was much simpler.”
“I can imagine.”She was accustomed to the intricacies of society now, but recalled feeling overwhelmed when she’d learned them years ago.
“I cannot promise you I won’t snipe at you again, so have patience with me.”
“Is that an order, Your—?”she asked cheekily, trying to tease him out of his bad mood.But she stopped on his title.“What shall I call you?”
