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Letty bit her lip. Too far. “Those are décor ideas for the room, of course. I didn’t mean that you were—”
“You don’t think I am elegant? My dressmaker would have a fit of the vapors if she heard it.”
The air felt different somehow. The bedchamber felt sunnier and warmer than it had a minute ago. “You are always elegant, Your Grace.”
The duchess’s eyes seemed to measure her, spanning her wrist to wrist, and crown to toes. A prickle of awareness followed the path of those eyes.
“I would like to create a space as ethereal as you are. A room befitting the Duchess of Hawthorne.”
* * *
Anne struggled to keep her composure. Miss Barrow was bold as brass, standing there with a hand on her hip and lust in those dark brown eyes. Had her own desires been so obvious? Outside of the bedchamber, flirtation had seemed a harmless game, but she hadn’t thought it through to its obvious conclusion.
Miss Barrow had.
And now there was naught but a bed between them.
This was too much. Anne took a step back, then another.
Miss Barrow seemed to understand, and her smile turned bright instead of sensual. “I thought Hawthorne House would be like any other in Mayfair and renovating it would be easy. Any old gold and silver would do to grace its hallowed halls. But I am wondering if perhaps there is more to it,” she said. “Give over your suite to me. One more chance.”
Anne hesitated.
“I understand better now. You don’t know what you want, because you don’t know what youcouldwant. I can figure that out—if I knowyou.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. It’s unbecoming.” Flirtation was one thing, and desire was another, but getting to know each other was quite out of the question. The very idea. Anne tried to convince herself to feel affronted, instead of this unwelcome frisson of delight. Oh, the veryidea.
“If you want me to give you something personal that suits you, and not your rank, then I will need to spend time with you.”
“Maybe I could work a few appointments into my schedule,” Anne said, astonished at the words. Usually, she had no trouble at all saying no. She said it all the time. Why was she opening herself toyes?
Trusting in someone was tempting after doing everything alone for so long. After all, she was paying Miss Barrow. Was it such a risk to put her faith in someone who had such a vested reason to stay?
Miss Barrow laughed. “You needn’t look as if you are about to have a tooth pulled, Your Grace. If you could grant me several hoursa week, that would be ideal. More would be better, but I do not wish to presume too much upon your time.”
She managed a nod.
“Then it’s all settled. I shall redesign your suite and leave the duke’s in disarray. We are to be co-conspirators to prevent your husband from coming home.”
“Conspirators? I dislike that word. A duchess has no thought of revolution.” Faint alarm pulsed through her at the lie. She indeed wanted to uproot the dukedom’s values, but she didn’t think she could share that with Miss Barrow.
“You’re taking a stand against your lord and master. Is that not revolt?”
“Hawthorne is hardly my master.” She thought for a minute. “More like an absentee landlord.”
“A tenant overthrowing his landlord is upheaval at its finest. What if your own tenants ever did such a thing?”
The idea rankled. “They wouldn’t,” she muttered. Or at least they wouldn’t if she could convince the estate managers to allow her to put her ideas into action to improve the tenants’ lives.
There was a look of mischief in Miss Barrow’s eyes.
Maybe—just maybe—this could befun.
Chapter Nine
At quarter after two in the afternoon, Anne closed her portfolios and stoppered her inkwell. Penciling in time for insubordination had been remarkably easy despite her busy schedule, given how keen she had become on the topic. It was about time she focused on herself instead of the duchy.
It was thrilling to think of having a partner in thwarting her husband.
