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He couldn’t pledge her safety from marquesses.
She looked entirely too delectable with her light brown hair tumbling about her shoulders and her bodice askew.
When Sir Alfred and his wife were situated in their carriage, Nick turned to the duke.
“Well, Barrington, scared away another one.”
“I can’t think what I said to distress her.” The duke stared forlornly at the feathers bobbing in the carriage window. “Beautiful, beautiful Agatha.” He sighed and waved his handkerchief as the carriage rolled away. “I only wanted to show her my blooms.”
Nick laughed. “The ones from Captain Lear?”
“I helped plant them,” Berthold said with great pride. “I mustn’t water them too much or they’ll die.”
The duke cheered, nodding vigorously. “Lear brought one species I haven’t been able to identify yet. We’ll have to see if it will flower. Ten of the plants died but two will survive, I think. I predict the petals will be ghostly white and elongated with long trailing tails. Wait until I show Pemberton!”
That might be difficult.
His father’s explorer friend Sir Pemberton had died five years ago after being thrown from his carriage by balking horses.
Alice saw Nick’s long face and immediately smiled at the duke and took his arm. “You may show me your orchids, Your Grace.”
She was adept at taking charge of difficult situations. He’d notice that about her immediately.
“Splendid my dear,” the duke said. “And who are you?”
As Alice led his father into the house, and listened patiently to his meanderings, Nick hoped she wouldn’t run screaming when she encountered the madhouse of his life.
Her shoulders were held high but her neck drooped from the weight of all the pearls sewn into the heavy silk of her gown.
She should remove the gown as soon as possible.
He would remove it for her.
If there was one thing Nick was good at, it was divesting beautiful women of troublesome articles of clothing.
