In Bed With The Duke. Annie Burrows

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      ‘I am not being evasive. Last time we came to an introduction we veered off into a more pressing conversation about bread and butter I seem to recall. And this time I...’ He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I became distracted again.’ He set down his tankard and pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, closing his eyes as though in pain.

      ‘Oh, does your head hurt? I do beg your pardon. I am not usually so snappish. Or so insensitive.’

      ‘And I am not usually so clumsy,’ he said, lowering his hands and opening his eyes to regard her ruefully. ‘I fear we are not seeing each other at our best.’

      He’d opened his mouth to say something else when the door swung open again, this time to permit two serving girls to come in, each bearing a tray of food.

      Prudence looked at his steak, which was smothered in a mountain of onions, and then down at her plate of bread and butter with a touch of disappointment.

      ‘Wishing you’d ordered more? I can order you some eggs to go with that, if you like?’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t suppose I could eat them if you did order them, though it is very kind of you. It is just the smell of those onions...’ She half closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. ‘Ohhh...’ she couldn’t help moaning. ‘They are making my mouth water.’

      He gave her a very strange look. Dropped his gaze as though he felt uncomfortable. Fumbled with his knife and fork.

      ‘Here,’ he said brusquely, cutting off a small piece of meat and depositing it on her plate. ‘Just a mouthful will do you no harm.’

      And then he smiled at her. For the very first time. And something inside her sort of melted.

      She’d never known a man with a black eye could smile with such charm.

      Though was he deploying his charm on purpose? He certainly hadn’t bothered smiling at her before he’d heard she was an heiress.

      ‘Are you ever,’ she asked, reaching for a knife and fork, ‘going to tell me your name?’

      His smile disappeared.

      ‘It is Willingale,’ he said quickly. Too quickly? ‘Gregory Willingale.’

      Then he set about his steak with the air of a man who hadn’t eaten for a se’ennight.

      Thank goodness she hadn’t been fooled by that charming smile into thinking he was a man she could trust. Which, she admitted, she had started to do. Why, she hadn’t talked to anyone so frankly and freely since her parents had died.

      Which wouldn’t do. Because he had secrets, did her uncle Gregory. She’d seen a distinct flash of guilt when he’d spoken the name Willingale.

      Which meant he was definitely hiding something.

Chapter Five

      Perhaps his real name wasn’t Gregory Willingale at all. Perhaps he was using an alias, for some reason. But what could she do about it anyway? Run to the burly bartender with a tale of being abandoned by her aunt and left to the mercy of a man she’d never clapped eyes on until the night before? What would that achieve? Nothing—that was what. She already knew precisely what people who worked in inns thought of girls who went to them with tales of that sort. They thought they were making them up. At least that was what the landlady of the last inn had said. Before lecturing her about her lack of morals and throwing her out.

      Earlier this morning she’d thought the woman must be incredibly cruel to do such a thing. But if Prudence had been the landlady of an inn, with a business to run, would she have believed such a fantastic tale? Why, she was living through it and she hardly believed it herself.

      She cleared her throat.

      ‘So, Mr Willingale,’ she said, but only after swallowing the last of the sirloin he’d shared with her. ‘Or should I call you Uncle Willingale? What do you propose we do next?’

      Her own next step would depend very much on whatever his plans were. She’d only make up her mind what to do when she’d heard what they were.

      ‘I am not sure,’ he said through a mouthful of beef. ‘I do not think we are in possession of enough facts.’

      Goodness. That was pretty much the same conclusion she’d just drawn.

      ‘Though I do think,’ he said, scooping up a forkful of onions and depositing it on her plate, ‘that in some way your guardians are attempting to defraud you of your inheritance.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she said meekly. ‘For the onions, I mean,’ she hastily explained, before spreading them on one of the remaining slices of bread and butter, then folding it into a sort of sandwich.

      ‘You’re welcome. Though how abandoning you in a small hostelry in the middle of nowhere will serve their purpose I cannot imagine. Surely the disappearance of a wealthy young woman will not go unnoticed wherever it is you come from?’

      Since her mouth was full, she shook her head.

      ‘It might not be noticed,’ she admitted, as soon as her mouth was free to use it for anything other than eating. ‘Not for a very long time anyway. Because we were on our way to Bath.’

      ‘Bath?’

      Why did he look as though he didn’t believe her?

      ‘Yes, Bath. Why not? I know it isn’t exactly fashionable any more, but we are far from fashionable people. And I did tell you, didn’t I, that Aunt Charity had been trying to get me to marry...? Well, someone I don’t much care for.’

      ‘A relative of her new husband?’ he said grimly.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And then she suddenly changed her tack, did she? Offered to take you somewhere you could meet a young man you might actually like?’

      ‘There’s no need to say it like that!’ Though she had been rather surprised by her aunt’s sudden volte-face. ‘She said she would rather see me married to anyone than have me create talk by moving out of her house to set up home on my own.’

      ‘My mental powers are growing stronger by the minute,’ Gregory said sarcastically, sawing off another piece of steak. ‘Do go on,’ he said, when she glowered at him over the rim of her teacup. ‘You were about to tell me why nobody will be raising a hue and cry.’

      ‘I have already told you. Aunt Charity finally saw that nothing on earth would induce me to marry...that toad. So she told everyone she was going to take me to Bath and keep me there until she’d found me a match, since I had turned up my nose at the best Stoketown had to offer.’

      ‘Stoketown? You hail from Stoketown?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And your aunt claimed she was taking you to Bath?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He laid down his knife СКАЧАТЬ