“Both.”
The Duke’s grin turned diabolical.
“I have an opportunity for you, Lord Lincolnshire.”
Prepared to proceed with negotiations for his next project, Matthew asked, “What type of gun do you require?”
“No, no, nothing to do with work.” Duke Kendall leaned forward again. Though far from him, Matthew’s skin crawled. “Aperformance. You’re talented with a pistol from what I understand. Some say you could shoot a target blindfolded.”
“It’s a trick shot,” Matthew admitted. Slightly more relaxed, he grinned. “It’s impressed quite a few ladies.”
Duke Kendall raised a hand in a staying gesture. “Yes, but impressing women wasn’t the reason you mastered the skill. It’s because you were afraid, weren’t you?”
“I—” Matthew frowned. “I don’t fear much these days.”
“Not with that skill set. You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?” Another sentence with a double meaning. Matthew didn’t answer him, so Duke Kendall continued, “We’remuchalike, Lord Lincolnshire, which is why I enjoy your company. So much so, that I’m inviting you as the guest of honor for my birthday celebration!”
Matthew almost dropped his glass. “I am not worthy of—” Duke Kendall’s eyes narrowed again and Matthew corrected, “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“You’ll bringbothof your sisters,” Duke Kendall said pointedly. “Andyour new wife.”
Heart hammering, unable to deny him, Matthew responded obediently, “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Now, I have ateensyfavor to ask.”
Matthew braced himself.
“I want you to showcase my new pistol with your blindfolded trick shot. Apresent-tation, if you will!” the Duke said cleverly, then whispered, “I can see your hesitation, Lord Lincolnshire. This is the part of the conversation where you’re thanking me for the wonderful opportunity I’ve bestowed on your capable shoulders.” Duke Kendall sang, “Now, say, ‘thank you, Your Grace.’”
Veiling his emotions, Matthew stood and bowed.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Chapter Four
Until her forced nuptials, Jasmine still had choices, and this morning she chose to call upon the Coopers. She had spent the entire journey from Spain looking forward to the Saturday morning breakfast with the family.
As an only child, Jasmine often wished she had been born into Cassandra’s family instead. Quirky and unapologetically themselves, they were accepting and loving. She had missed them so much that their absence became a physical ache.
None more painful than Matthew.
And as loath as she was to admit it, there was fire between them. Did he feel it too? Even now she felt the ghost of his hands on her and heard his deep and sensuous whispers, dripping with promise.
What irritated her most was that he had been right—no one else had asked her to dance. For the rest of the night, she had the foreign, pleasant experience of being a wallflower.
Maybe he cared.
And perhaps he had a good reason for not writing to her. Maybe all of his letters got lost in the post. Or fell into the sea!Or maybe—she sighed. Maybe last night was an act, like her mother said.Ooh,her head was swimming with questions, and there was no better time to find the answers than this morning.
Helped from the carriage by a footman, Jasmine squinted in the morning sun. Though the day was sunny, the air was cold and damp. The moisture in the air stuck to her skin and weighed down her dress.She longed for the warmth of Spain, even as she yearned for those behind this very door.
If only I could reconcile the two.
Cassandra’s Mayfair house was a brick home, built like a fortress. Intimidating from the outside. As Jasmine ascended the few steps to the home, Mr. Davis opened the door. A frail man in his sixties, Mr. Davis had been the Coopers’ butler for her entire life. Momentarily taken aback to see him at Cassandra’s townhouse and not Matthew’s, she greeted him.
“Good morning, Mr. Davis!”
“Welcome home, Lady Jasmine.” He smiled warmly and bowed. “The family is having breakfast, would you like me to show you to the dining room?”
