Girl meets Duke. Tessa Dare

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       Chapter Two

      Penny watched in silence as the Gabriel Duke turned and stalked to his dressing room.

      Then she melted into a quivering pool on the floor.

      Heavens.

      He’d left the door ajar. As his towel dropped to the floor, she caught a glimpse of taut, muscled backside before tearing her gaze away.

      Oh Lord oh Lord oh Lord.

      Once she’d latched and relatched Delilah’s cage for good measure, Penny stood and attempted to piece herself back together.

      She glanced at her dressing gown. The faded toile print was years behind the fashion, and the ends of the sash were hopelessly frayed—the casualty of many a playful kitten’s swipe. And her hair . . . Oh, she could only imagine the state of her hair after this adventure.

      She peered into the dressing-table mirror. Worse than she’d feared. Her plait made Delilah’s ruffled crest look sleek. Penny quickly unknotted the bit of muslin around her braid and combed her hair with her fingers before rebraiding it and tying off the end.

      She squinted into the mirror again. Better, she judged. Not a great deal better. But better.

       “Pretty girl!”

      From the dressing room, Mr. Duke gave an annoyed groan.

      “I’m so sorry for the imposition,” she called. “Delilah only came to live in Bloom Square a few weeks ago. Her mistress passed away. Parrots are loyal and intelligent, and they often outlive their human companions. So she’s not only been uprooted from her home, she’s in mourning.”

      “I must say, she doesn’t sound particularly aggrieved to me.”

      “She does say the most amusing things, doesn’t she? ‘Pretty girl,’ and ‘yes,’ and—Do you hear that one? ‘Fancy a . . .’ what? I never can catch what she’s saying at the end. It’s certainly not biscuit. ‘Fancy a cuppa,’ perhaps? But who gives a parrot tea? It sounds a great deal like ‘fancy a foxglove,’ but that makes even less sense. I don’t mind saying the mystery is driving me a bit mad.”

      “Fuck.”

      She froze. “I’m not that upset about it.”

      He returned to the bedchamber, now clothed in a pair of trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. “It’s what the parrot’s saying. ‘Fancy a fuck, love.’ That bird came from a whorehouse.”

      She spent a few moments in scandalized silence. No one had ever spoken to her in such a manner—but that wasn’t the disturbing part. The disturbing part was how much she liked it.

      “That can’t be,” she said. “She belonged to a little old lady. That’s what I was told.”

      “Bawds turn into little old ladies, too.”

      “Pretty girl.” Delilah gave a cheeky whistle. “Fancy a f—”

      Penny pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh, no.”

       “Yes! Yes! Ooh! Yes!”

      Mr. Duke sat to pull on his boots. “Please tell me I don’t need to translate that for you.”

      Penny couldn’t think of anything she might say to make this exchange less horrifying. She couldn’t have said anything at all. It wasn’t that she’d lost her tongue. Her tongue had curled up and died.

      Boots donned, he strode to the door and held it open for her. Penny gratefully lifted the birdcage and hurried to escape.

      “I know how fragile a lady’s reputation can be,” he said. “Just so it’s understood—no one can ever know you were here.”

      “Lady Penelope?”

      Penny jumped in her skin.

      The housekeeper, Mrs. Burns, stood in the corridor. Her eyes slid to her employer. “Mr. Duke.”

      Mr. Duke cursed under his breath. If she were the sort to use profanity, Penny would have cursed, too.

      Mrs. Burns had managed the Wendleby house for as long as Penny could remember. When she was a girl, the housekeeper had terrified her.

      Little had changed in that regard. The woman was even more frightening now, clad in black from head to toe with her hair parted severely down the center. The candle she held threw macabre shadows across her face.

      “Is there some way I can be of service?” she solemnly intoned.

      “My parrot flew in through the window and I came over to retrieve her,” Penny hastily explained. “Mr. Duke was kind enough to help. Mrs. Burns, perhaps you’d be so good as to accompany me home?”

      “That would be prudent.” The housekeeper gave her a disapproving look. “In the future, my lady, might I suggest you wake a servant to let you in the house.”

      “Oh, this won’t happen again.” Penny slid a glance toward Mr. Duke as she moved to leave. “I can promise you that.”

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