Page 45 of No Duke of Mine

“I never said that I would stay,” she said quickly, but where she belonged was certainly on her mind.

“You’re sensible to be thinking about the future,” he said. “If you’re looking for a place to belong, London offers many opportunities for you, but not as a maid, I trust.”

“No,” she agreed with him. “I am ill-suited to taking orders from lofty men. I would also like something that will challenge me more.”

The duke grunted. “What do you have in mind now?”

“Perhaps I could find a position with a professional bent.”

He raised a brow.

“An assistant to a banker, or even a solicitor,” she suggested. “I should have liked to study the law, but my father would not hear of it.”

“You’re smart enough for it.”

“It is only an idea.”

He nodded. “Did you enjoy meeting the modiste?”

“I spoke with the assistant more.”

“It will amuse you then to know the assistant was the modiste. The older woman acts as the proprietor to ensure the modiste is treated fairly by her customers and isn’t robbed blind. Society does not seem to value the creativity of young, ambitious women.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, saddened that the young woman had to pretend she was not the most important person in the shop. “The poor girl.”

“Poor? That poor girl will charge me an arm and a leg to make those gowns as fast as I want them made. But her work is always flawless.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You’ve purchased gowns there before?”

“For a past mistress,” he confessed, after a slight hesitation.

Maggie blinked, and then shook her head. Of course, he’d kept a mistress in London. A duke was hardly likely to remain celibate.

“I send my friends there all the time,” he confided.

“Your friends who have mistresses,” she said slowly and then glanced over at him. “Do you have a mistress now?”

“No. I parted company with my last a year ago.”

“Why?”

“It was time for a change,” he said with a careless shrug, and then proceeded to describe their locations as the carriage made a slow circuit of the best neighborhoods nearest his. He even mentioned the possible wealth or occupations of the people who might live in each square.

None of them, the squares or the occupations, immediately appealed to Maggie. But not many women could have careers in this day and age. Gentlemen did, and she stored that information away in the unlikely event she ever needed it.

Eventually, the carriage returned to Bond Street and came to a stop before another establishment. “More shopping?”

“The best kind,” he promised. The duke exited first and held out his hand to her. “Come, Maggie, there is something particular I wish to show you now.”

Maggie put her hand in his and he led her directly into Hatchards, a bookseller her father had spoken of with reverence many times but never brought her to see.

The bell on the door tinkled, announcing them. Algernon strode ahead to speak with the old man standing behind the counter—the proprietor, she assumed—and passed him something. He received a nod in return, and then leaned back against the counter.

The older man headed toward the front door and locked it. He pulled the blinds down as well and then came to her side. “Miss Black, please accept my sincerest condolences for the loss of your father. Mr. Black sent many a wealthy young man to my door over the years. Having you visit is the coup de grâce of my career.”

She blinked. “Do you know me?”

“Your father spoke of you often. Regretted the shortcomings of his purse to send you all the books he found here for his students.”