Page 13 of Miss Kimble Bites Back

“Yes, I did have some,” she promised. “It was delicious indeed.”

Tibbs appeared again, bearing the silver message tray, and walked solemnly toward Gabby. It was clear by the way he held himself that the tray contained something of vital importance.

She swallowed, certain it could only be bad news. “I wonder what this could be.”

Tibbs lowered the silver tray so she could read the calling card placed in the exact center. It read Duke of Mamble. It was an exquisite calling card. Engraved in gold with little flourishes at the corner.

Gabby gulped and glanced at her cousin, who’d risen to read the card for himself.

“Ah, good,” he murmured, giving her a satisfied smile. Bennett addressed Lord Brookes. “About the matter that brought you here, sir. I’m afraid you were quite in error. Thank you for calling.”

Bennett seemed determined to have Lord Brookes leave the room immediately, but he did it so well that she was sure Lord Brookes had no idea he’d been gotten rid of.

As soon as he was out of the chamber, Gabby was on her feet and off to the window to peek out again.

Lord Brookes’ phaeton was still standing before the house, and a moment later, she watched the viscount leave. But there was no sign of another carriage lined up behind him, not even a riderless horse standing on the street.

Confused by the card and lack of ducal carriage before her house, Gabby discovered she was quite disappointed. She had looked forward to seeing how the duke would behave today. Last night, it seemed she’d encountered two different men: a rake and a respectful gentleman.

Gabby turned around—and yelped to find the duke standing directly behind her, unannounced by their butler.

She hastily dipped a respectful curtsy. “Your grace.”

Mamble was every inch a duke today, and when he smiled, she almost lost her breath, overwhelmed momentarily by that sense of presence about him. His eyes skimmed lazily up and down her body again, too, causing a burst of heat to sweep over her skin.

She struggled not to fidget but found she could bear his bold scrutiny more easily today. “Welcome.”

He moved past her and peered outside at the street. “You can thank me later for driving that blithering idiot off, but then I feel sympathy for the poor women he inflicts himself on next.”

Gabby shook her head. “It was an honor to be visited by Lord Brookes.”

Mamble pursed his lips. “I suppose you want me to apologize for interrupting your little tête-à-tête with a man you admire so well? I had no idea he’d actually stir himself to call on you.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

The duke leaned close. “Because he has led too many ladies on for me to imagine he’d choose you, and as charming as you are. I heard he still did not dance with you last night.”

“Perhaps he called because I’m irresistible,” she shot back, and then winced at how conceited that sounded.

“You are interesting, I’ll give you that,” the duke whispered. “But not to him yet. He’s not the man for you, Gabby.”

“I think he could be,” she insisted, fighting a blush. She refused to believe that her hopes for Brookes and herself were in vain while ignoring the duke’s bold use of her first name. Remembering her manners, Gabby offered him a seat that would put them both in full view of the door. “My cousin should be back at any moment.”

“Good. I assure you, I do not want to compromise you.” He sat down and leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over at the knee. “What shall we talk about today? Empty pleasantries again? Did you enjoy the ball last night?”

“I did indeed, and I’m grateful to Lady Windermere for the invitation.”

He frowned suddenly. “What were your friends’ names again? Their connections?”

“Miss Justine Dawes and Miss Daisy Ellis.”

“It is Miss Daisy Ellis who has Throsby as her guardian?”

“Yes. Do you know Lord Throsby?”

“Of course, and the other? Tell me about her connections.”

“Miss Justine Dawes. Perhaps you know her sister, Lady Whitlow.”