Page 11 of No Duke of Mine

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” the lady gushed. “I must confess to having been very worried. It is not right for a woman to travel alone. You must have been so worried about your cousin as well, to follow her into this dreadful storm.”

Algernon nodded slowly. “She’s always had an independent disposition.”

“I am glad you’ve come to take charge of her.”

“I have indeed,” he promised, but of course, he had not. However, talking with Maggie was an excellent way to spend a rainy day and night. He would like to continue their conversation elsewhere. “Any idea which room was given to her?”

The Keanes were only too happy to supply him with directions to the room beside theirs.

Algernon rushed up the staircase and knocked softly on her bedchamber door.

“Yes,” Maggie answered from behind the wood.

“It’s me.”

“What does me want?”

“I thought we might discuss sharing your pillow tonight,” he whispered urgently. “Let me in so we can talk freely.”

“One moment.”

There was near silence from within, but when the door opened, something was thrust out at him. The door slammed shut again without him catching a single glimpse of Maggie, before the bolt was thrown to keep him out for good.

Algernon held what he’d been given up to the light—and gaped. He held a small embroidered pillow bearing Maggie’s initials. He stared at it, and then at the door in consternation. “Maggie?”

“There will be no further talk of you taking charge of me,” she warned. “I’m not your cousin.”

“Maggie, I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” he said softly. “I was trying to protect your reputation. You know me.”

“I know nothing about you now, other than you enjoy kissing strange women with little provocation,” she complained.

“I argue that point. I was highly provoked by a very tempting woman who enjoyed teasing me. It was not as if you stopped me.”

“No, I didn’t, did I?” The door rattled as the bolt was drawn back, and Maggie reappeared. She held the door firmly shut against him, though. “Who is Sally Ford?”

“Someone I made up on the spot to torment you with.”

“No. I don’t think that’s true,” she said, eyes flashing dangerously. “You were never that good a liar as a boy.”

He raked a hand through his hair. Maggie had always seen through him. “All right. I apologize. I kissed Sally Ford some time ago, but I’m sure she’ll have forgotten about it by now.”

“I imagine that if you kiss everyone like that, few women ever do. Good night, Your Grace.”

He put his foot in the door to stop her from shutting it in his face again. “Was the kiss too much?”

A tiny smile tugged her lips. “Too much or too little?” she teased, and then laughed. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out by morning. Pleasant dreams, Your Grace.”

The door shut, and Algernon sighed, disappointed and oddly challenged by the question.

Maggie had taught him to take nothing for granted when it came to what she wanted. She had changed her mind because of what he’d said to the Keanes downstairs, although he might have presumed too much from her invitation. He ought to have remembered Maggie was not his to order about, though he always tried.

He had overstepped the bounds of propriety well and truly by kissing her like that, too.

Tomorrow, he would ask permission before he kissed her again.