His Three-Day Duchess. Laurie Benson

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      ‘Yes. I haven’t had the opportunity to have the furniture moved in yet, but I was able to change the mouldings to the Grecian style and had the walls painted blue to match the colour of the Aegean Sea.’ There was no need for him to explain to her why he had altered the design of a room in a house that was his. In his annoyance with himself, he walked to the sofa near the door and unceremoniously dropped their outer garments on it. ‘I’ll go arrange for your tea.’

      The sooner he got them out of the house, the better it would be for him. Elizabeth, the Duchess of Skeffington, had a nosy nature and her close proximity to the Blue Drawing Room was not what he needed. Before he went in search of a servant, he would make certain the door to that room was locked. But before he was able to leave, she stopped him with her voice.

      ‘Why would you change it?’ Her tone was soft and he wasn’t certain if the question was rhetorical. ‘It was perfectly lovely the way it was. What was so objectionable to you that you felt the need to alter it as you have?’

      He turned to find her with a furrowed brow, skimming her finger along the top of the new marble mantel that was supported by two replica statues of classical women clad in sandals and sleeveless gowns.

      ‘There was nothing objectionable with how the room was decorated. However, this style is more to my liking.’

      ‘I liked the way it had been decorated.’

      There was a slight hint of sadness in her voice and he almost felt sorry for her until she opened her mouth again.

      ‘I realise this style is currently in fashion, but it will not last. People will grow weary of the classical look and then this room will be woefully outdated. It might be already, for all we know. The previous design of the room would have made it quite simple to redecorate by replacing the paint colours or hanging paper on the walls. But this,’ she said, gesturing around the room, ‘this will now require considerable renovation to keep it up to date.’ She uttered the last sentence on a dramatic sigh and her expression was one of false pity.

      ‘Then I am fortunate I am not one to allow the whims of fashion to dictate my taste and will not be renovating this room. The next Duke of Skeffington can concern himself with that task.’ He took a step closer and folded his arms. ‘And I’ll have you know Mr Robert Adam would be very pleased with this room.’

      ‘Mr Adam died in 1792.’

      ‘But many fashionable houses still retain his mark. Shall I name the ones that do?’ He had furnished some of those patrons with a number of antiquities to complement the architectural elements of their rooms. He knew them by heart.

      She held up her hand to stop him. ‘I do not need you to list them. There are also many fashionable homes that do not support his classical style. Such as Stonehaven...before you barged in and altered its refined character with these reproductions.’

      Should he even bother to inform her that the small gold statue of Mars she had just picked up off the mantel was not a reproduction and was over two thousand years old?

      In what he believed to be an attempt to check for a maker’s mark, she eyed the bottom of the statue. ‘Perhaps the woman you marry will not be fond of this style. What then?’

      ‘Perhaps I’ll know the woman is the one I should marry because she will confess how much she adores this room.’

      ‘I believe you will remain a bachelor, sir, for a very long time.’ She placed the statue back on the mantel.

      ‘Oh, I’m sure I can find a number of women who would want to be the Duchess of Skeffington regardless of my partiality to the classical style. It’s well known that there are certain women in Britain whose aim it is to marry a man for his money and his prestigious title.’ He arched his brow and tilted his head.

      It was apparent from the way she narrowed her big brown eyes at him that she was aware he was referring to her marriage to the old Duke. He knew women like her and, since he had become the latest Duke of Skeffington, he had been introduced to too many for his liking here in England. Women had shunned his advances in the past, sighting his unimpressive fortune and lack of title. He had little use for such women like these now.

      She raked a critical gaze over him. ‘How lucky for you that you now have the title of Duke. You will need that title of yours and your fortune if you hope to entice a woman to marry you. Your lack of charm certainly is not to your advantage.’

      ‘Perhaps we can have that tea now,’ Mrs Sommersby called out pleasantly from where she was patiently sitting on the sofa near the fireplace.

      Why had he allowed the Duchess to distract him from leaving the room? It had only delayed her departure from his home.

      ‘Did someone mention tea?’

      Simon turned away from the annoying Duchess to find his friend and business associate Adam Finley lounging against the door frame, openly assessing her with his eyes.

      ‘I thought I heard voices,’ Adam continued as he walked into the room.

      Simon stepped between Adam and his female intruders. It was no wonder that his friend had become curious about what was taking Simon so long to fetch the small marble statue that he suggested would appeal to Lord Bollingbrooke. He only had to go into the Blue Drawing Room where it was stored, which was a few doors away from his study where the men had been meeting.

      The last thing he wanted was to have Adam anywhere near these women. Worlds were colliding and this could be a disaster. While Mrs Sommersby appeared pleasant enough, the Duchess was everything that wasn’t. Her only redeeming quality was that she smelled nice when you were standing close to her. She was opinionated, nosy, and much too condescending for his taste. Not to mention that she measured a man’s worth by what was in his bank account. And while he could manage her probing questions with deflection, Adam’s mercurial nature made it hard to predict how he would react to her inquisition.

      It was probably best to quickly introduce them and then leave the ladies to wait for their tea by themselves, since Adam had already walked around him and was making his way to the Duchess.

      ‘Your Grace,’ Simon addressed the woman who was openly eyeing Adam with an inquisitive brow, ‘may I introduce my friend, Mr Finley. Mr Finley, this is Elizabeth, the Duchess of Skeffington.’

      The surprised look on Adam’s face was quickly replaced with a sly smile before he executed a bow. ‘Your Grace, your beauty has exceeded my expectations.’

      She shifted her gaze from Adam to Simon and then back to Adam. ‘I assume this means that His Grace has been speaking of me or you would hold no expectations of me at all.’

      Adam gave Simon an amused glance before showing off his charming smile to the Duchess. ‘Only in passing, I assure you, but he certainly did not do you justice when he described you.’

      Of course he had. What more was there to say about her when Adam enquired after the reading of the will? She was rather tall for a woman, with dark hair and dark eyes. And she seemed to possess a sense of entitlement that grated on him. Simon thought he had been rather generous in his description.

      The Duchess, however, was eyeing him as if he was something she had brought in on the bottom of her shoe from the stables.

      ‘Adam,’ he said, СКАЧАТЬ