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upheaval.
    “If you stay with me, I promise, you shall read. And you shall decide whether revolution is actually treason. Sometimes, there must be change. Without it, we wither and die.”
    Oh! The panic she’d felt a few moments ago disappeared under her sudden fascination with this devilish duke. How she wanted to ask if he’d read Jefferson or Voltaire. If he had, she’d ask if he thought such ideas could eventually come to pass in England or would men such as the Duke of Wellington persevere and keep the lower orders locked in their burrows unable to leave their villages, blind to the freedoms and wonders of the world?
    “It’s time I dressed for dinner, Alfred.”
    Her wandering mind jolted away from the rights of man and skittered back to his muscled frame. Dress . She’d have to pretend total misunderstanding and hopefully avoid learning that her duties included seeing him naked. Even if she had ventured a brief fantasy, that was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. Yes. All costs. “You’re already dressed, Your Grace.”
    “Surely, even you know that the aristocracy dress differently for dinner?”
    With those words, the Duke of Roth shrugged off his coat and tossed it at her.
    She didn’t move a muscle and that large swath of wool landed with a thud at her feet.
    “Not light on your toes, are you, boy?”
    She blinked then bent and grabbed the heavy, silk lined coat. Surely this was the only garment he’d shed in her presence. After all, a stable boy hardly made valet material. “Are you dining with guests?” she asked, hoping to distract him from her utter dismay.
    “No.”
    “Then why change? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable as you are rather than in evening kit?”
    “I thought you’d never heard of evening kit.”
    Damn and double damn her errant tongue! “Oh, well, I’d forgotten.”
    “For a young thing, you’ve quite the dodgy memory, my lad.”
    Distract. She had to distract him from her absolute foolishness. Truly, she had to get ahold of herself because she wasn't at all comfortable with the fact that the Duke of Roth’s nearness seemed to render her an idiot. “But why get all dressed up if you’re dining alone, Your Grace?”
    He hesitated, his hand halfway to his cravat. “You know, I’ve never considered it. It’s what one does.”
    “And do you always do what is done? I thought no,” she teased, propping her fists on her hips, hoping to look like a smirking youth.
    A strange, satisfied, slow smile turned his lips. “How right you are, Alfred. I shall dine in my rooms this evening.”
    “It’s good to change things every now and then,” she said, quite pleased with herself. “As you said, without change we wither.”
    “How pleased I am to hear you listen when I speak. Now, you urge casual dress?” he asked.
    She nodded, surprised at how easy it had been to maneuver him. “Relax, Your Grace. No need to be formal all the time.”
    “Then I shall dine in my robe.”
    Robe?
    Allegra let out a peep of dismay then squashed the high-pitched sound with a cough. “Good. Good. Uh. Have an airing. . . I’ll take your clothes downstairs and. . .”
    “You’ll keep me company.”
    “And I’ll keep you company,” she agreed, her spirits fluttering with some unfamiliar emotion. Dread. It had to be dread.

Chapter 5
    O h, this was far too much fun. Nicholas could barely contain his mirth. Every look of distress, every moment of frustration was damned delightful. It made him an ass. He knew. But life was so short on surprises, how could he not take advantage of this one?
    With each passing comment and undeniable lie, he wondered how on earth Alfred had ever tricked anyone into believe she was a he .
    Nicholas took hold of his cravat and gave it a good tug. He kept his grin at bay. He didn’t want Alfred to catch on that he’d guessed.
    “Alfred,” he said, overly serious. “You need to get used to seeing me informally. That’s what a boyservant is for.