How to Dazzle a Duke (15 page)

asked.

Actually, that was a bit odd, wasn’t it? Why were men giving

Sophia gifts, beyond the fact that she was Sophia Dalby and she

required gifts, which was perfectly lovely as habits went and cer

tainly Penelope was not at all put off by it. Once she was a duch

ess, she would think of some very good reason why she should

be given perfectly extravagant gifts all the time.

George moved closer to Cranleigh and Edenham as they ex

amined the vases, and Lord Iveston, before Penelope could do a

thing about it, distracted as she was in planning all her future

gifts, found herself in a corner of the white salon with him by a

door leading to she knew not where.

102 CLAUDIA DAIN

The candles had been lit, but not well in this corner, and

because of the rain, it had gone quite dark even if the room was

done up entirely in white. That was the least of it, however. The

worst of it was that it was Lord Iveston who had got her into this

little corner and not Edenham, and that was just the sort of thing

that Lord Iveston, whom she barely knew, but knew enough

to know that she found him entirely peculiar, would do. Why,

if she knew him any better, she’d think he was ruining whatever

small chance she had at Edenham on purpose.

“It is very difficult to see the vases from here, Lord Iveston,”

she said, trying to peer round his shoulder, which was fl atly im

possible as he simply towered over her.

“You don’t truly care about the vases, Miss Prestwick,” he

said, which was completely like him as he was so very contrary.

“I can’t think why you should say such a perfectly ridiculous

thing, Lord Iveston,” she said, giving up peering and trying to

gracefully accept being trapped within the least interesting cor

ner of the room.

“Because they were prominently displayed in the center of

the room for your entire visit and you did no more than glance

at them.”

“Was I supposed to inspect them? I didn’t want to appear

rude.”

“I don’t believe you, Miss Prestwick. I don’t think you mind

appearing rude at all.”

“What a perfectly horrid thing to say!” she snapped, staring

up at him. “And how perfectly like you to say it.”

“I don’t believe you know me well enough to say that, Miss

Prestwick,” he said, giving her the most strange of looks, which

made sense as he was a very strange man.

“Apparently I know you well enough, Lord Iveston. You are

not the most cordial of men, which I’m certain you will excuse

How to Daz zle a Duke

103

me from saying because I am equally certain that your disposi

tion can be no surprise to you.”

Lord Iveston looked very much like he was developing a

twitch near his left eye.

“My disposition . . . but perhaps I am merely modest, a most

private man,” he said.

“If you were a modest, private man, you would hardly tell me

that, would you?”

“You are probably correct in that,” he said with very obvious

reluctance.

Penelope snorted, delicately. Most assuredly delicately.

“But I don’t believe,” he continued, “that you can possibly

know me well enough to dislike me, Miss Prestwick. I am most

unaccustomed to being disliked.”

“I should think so,” she said. “As you rarely leave your home,

it is equally true that no one can know you well enough to dislike

you and that no one whom you do see would dislike you. It’s a

very safe existence you’ve made for yourself, Lord Iveston. I don’t

say it’s unattractive, but it is unusual.”

There. How much more conciliatory could she be?

“But are you not also unusual, Miss Prestwick?” he said, prov

ing most neatly her premise. What sort of man made a comment

of that sort? “I don’t say it’s unattractive of you to be outspoken

and given to making awkward remarks, but it is unusual.”

“Awkward remarks?” she said in quite a curt manner, which

he would likely think proved her outspoken nature, as if that

were a flaw. “I do not make awkward remarks, Lord Iveston. It

is only that I am unusually observant and proceed logically when

all others stumble into emotional hedgerows.”

“Emotional hedgerows?” Lord Iveston said softly, his mouth

softening into a tepid smile. “That’s quite good.”

“Thank you,” she said with rather more sarcasm than was

104 CLAUDIA DAIN

likely wise. “Is that all you wished to discuss? Your private na

ture and my forthright manner? The topic has been adequately

covered, don’t you think?”

“Miss Prestwick,” he said softly, taking a half step nearer to

her when he was already quite close enough. More than quite

close. Very nearly hovering, if she wanted to be outspoken about

it, which she did. “Miss Prestwick,” he said again, very nearly

whispering. His voice, and his nearness, sent a most unwelcome

shiver down her spine. “I do think we’ve started on the wrong

foot somehow. Can we not start again, this time with more cour

tesy and warm civility between us?”

It was a thought. Surely, if she were to follow Sophia’s counsel

at all, and she would be a fool if she did not, she was supposed

to be using Iveston as a prompt to get Edenham to notice her.

She’d not done at all well at that, though she couldn’t quite reason

out why. It must have something to do with Lord Iveston. He

wasn’t at all what she expected and her reaction to him wasn’t at

all convenient, which quite naturally resulted in her somewhat,

but only somewhat, unpleasantly warm responses to him. She

couldn’t think why he should annoy her more than say, George,

but he did. He was just so very peculiar. That was likely it. She

had never been comfortable around peculiar people who be

haved in ways she did not either approve of or understand.

And she did not understand Lord Iveston at all.

But far worse, she did not understand her reaction to him,

which was reason enough to be uncomfortable in his presence,

wasn’t it? Of course it was.

There now. Having reasoned it all out and having determined

that their initial wrong-footedness, surely a most apt word, was

due to his peculiarity and her most reasonable reaction to it, she

would and could proceed on better, firmer footing. Edenham was

the goal, after all, and if Iveston could serve her purposes there,

well then, he should be encouraged to do so.

How to Daz zle a Duke

105

“I find I agree with you, Lord Iveston, which I do fear will

shock you,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. He did have

the most brilliantly blue eyes. “I am more than delighted to begin

again. How shall we accomplish it?”

Iveston smiled softly. It did quite nice things to his face. She

found herself smiling in return when she had had no plan to do

so. How perfectly extraordinary.

“Miss Prestwick, I think the wisest course and the most

time tested is the surest policy in diplomatic negotiations such

as ours.”

“And the wisest course, Lord Iveston?”

“Compliments, Miss Prestwick. Every ambassador of every

nation begins with compliments, which are quickly followed

by gifts.”

“Which are less quickly followed by one nation or the other

giving something up which they had no plan to give up,” she

said, smiling again.

“Ah, but you stray too far ahead, Miss Prestwick. Let us begin

with compliments and see where that takes us.”

“I must warn you, Lord Iveston,” she said, still staring

boldly into his eyes, which might have been a mistake as she

could feel a thread of heat wrap itself around her throat, “that

I cannot be complimented into giving anything up that I have

determined I want.”

“How can you know, Miss Prestwick? I have yet to tender

even the first compliment. Perhaps it is possible to have what you

want altered.”

“By compliments? Impossible.”

“By gifts?”

“What sort of gifts?”

“What sort of gifts would tempt you?”

“No, Lord Iveston, if you seek to tempt me, you must fi nd

your own way. I will not aid you in this hostile negotiation.”

106 CLAUDIA DAIN

“Not hostile, Miss Prestwick, merely heated,” Iveston said, his

blue eyes looking quite as hot as flame. The thread of heat around

her throat thickened into a cord and tightened, sending waves of

awareness up her spine and down beneath her bodice ties.

How completely and perfectly extraordinary.

Nine

“YOUR work, I assume?” Lord Ruan asked Sophia.

He had not followed the Duke of Edenham over to inspect

the porcelain, as indeed she had not expected he would. No, the

Marquis of Ruan had not come to Dalby House to look at any

thing other than its mistress, which was so lovely of him, truly,

and she did enjoy it, deeply, but there always seemed to be so

much going on and, worse, Lord Ruan always seemed to be so

aware of it.

If there was one trait a man should absolutely not possess, it

was being observant. Being clever and observant was even worse.

Lord Ruan, as much as she wished otherwise, was both.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, staring up at him. He had

quite rugged features and very green eyes. He was, not to put too

fine a point on it, a very handsome man. And he knew it. There

was that bit about being both clever and observant again. Such

a strain, really, to keep a man like Ruan on such a tight rein. One

could not but wonder what he would do, what he was capable of,

if given even a nod of encouragement.

Of course, it was folly to even think such a thought with

108 CLAUDIA DAIN

Markham in the room. She was his mother and she did try to

keep things comfortable for him, darling boy, and truly, she

rarely had any trouble at all. Ruan was something else again.

Ruan, she was very much afraid, was going to prove hard to

resist.

“That,” Ruan said with a shift of his head, indicating the very

shadowy corner where Penelope and Iveston stood in what

looked to be very pleasant conversation. How nice. Things

were going quite well there and with hardly any effort at all

on her part.

“I can’t think what you mean, Lord Ruan,” she said. “As you

must be perfectly aware, I have not actually invited any of my

guests today. You all just appeared from out of the mist and seem

quite determined never to leave my house again. Of course, that

might be due more to the rain than my charms.”

“Which not even you believe,” he said with a lopsided smile.

It looked quite devilish on him.

“But one is required to make such remarks, Lord Ruan,” she

said, moving toward the front windows, Ruan trailing her like a

trained hound.

“I can’t believe that you answer to any requirements but your

own, Lady Dalby,” he said, “which is why you have, from your

fi rst day in London to this, turned the Town on its head.”

“What do you know of my first day in London, Lord Ruan?”

she asked, all thoughts of flirtation buried in suspicion. Too

clever, too observant, that was this man’s entire problem. Or at

least it was a problem for her. “I’m certain I should remember

you if you were here. Where were you if not in Town?”

“Out and about in the world, Lady Dalby,” he answered.

“Having the sorts of adventures that are very nearly required of

a man at that particular age. Your own son is soon to be on an

adventure, isn’t he?”

“Where did you hear that?”

How to Daz zle a Duke

109

“From his own mouth, Lady Dalby, whilst we were chatting

at Aldreth House on that delightful day that Lord Cranleigh fi

nally claimed Lady Amelia for his own. The day of the satire.”

There was something so very purposeful about the way Ruan

had said the word
satire
that Sophia knew without question he

was going to do something very awkward, something like prowl

into the shadows of her very shadowy past. Oh, most people in

London of a certain age were quite convinced they knew every

thing there was to know, of interest, that is, about her, but there

was much she did not want known and Lord Ruan was just the

sort to want to know those precise things. If he continued on in

such manner, she would be required to drop him before she had

even picked him up.

And she had decided to pick him up, just yesterday, in fact.

She was slightly bored, what with Caro married and Markham

leaving with John and the boys for a lengthy visit to America. A

lover was such pleasant way to pass the time, but only if the lover

were pleasant and not given to looking in places he had no need

to look.

“The day of the satire, Lord Ruan? Satires come out nearly

every day.”

“But so rarely to such quick effect.”

“Only if they are not very good. Good satires create a very

quick response.”

“How are satires judged to be good, Lady Dalby? By their

art? By their timeliness? By their cleverness?”

“By the response they provoke, Lord Ruan. I thought I had

made that clear.”