Mr. Prestwick said amiably, “we must hurry.”
And with only the barest of cordial formalities, the two were
out the door and back onto Piccadilly. Cranleigh looked nearly
as befuddled as Iveston felt.
“Remarkable girl,” Cranleigh said. “I never thought to see
one like her.”
“Remarkable? How?” Iveston said as Ponsonby arranged for
their coats to be brought down.
“She’s the only unmarried woman I’ve yet to see who didn’t
fall all over herself in trying to gain your attention. She had it,
by all appearances, and she threw it right back at your feet.”
“She did not have my attention,” Iveston said curtly, taking
his hat from Ponsonby.
How to Daz zle a Duke
33
“No?” Cranleigh said, his hands full with his mysterious gift
for Sophia Dalby. “Then I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
“No, I’m quite certain it doesn’t,” Iveston said as they walked
out onto Piccadilly.
And it didn’t. Though Cranleigh found it all very amusing, to
judge by his laugh.
Four
THE Duke of Edenham entered Dalby House fully ten minutes
before his appointed time. He was no fool. A man who wished
to remain on Sophia Dalby’s good side paid attention to details
of that sort.
He was shown directly into the white salon, where the blanc
de Chine cup that was the reason for the salon was missing. In
its place was a celadon vase of quite exquisite design. Edenham
knew the origin of the blanc de Chine cup; he did not know the
origin of the celadon porcelain. He was not a man who endured
being kept in the dark about important changes such as these,
with a woman such as Sophia Dalby.
“You’re early, darling,” Sophia said as he took a seat oppo
site her on one of the matching sofas in the room. “There is
nothing more charming than a man who so promptly pays off
his wagers.”
“In ready money, too,” he said, handing her a small bundle
of gold coins. “Count it, if you wish.”
“Oh, I shall,” she said with a twinkle in her dark eyes. “There
How to Daz zle a Duke
35
is nothing quite so delicious as the feel of gold between my
fi ngers.”
They sat opposite each other. The celadon vase gleamed on
a low table between them, a spark of color in a room nearly glow
ing white.
“I see you have a new bit of porcelain, Lady Dalby,” he said.
“Another payment for another wager?”
“Not at all,” she said, putting the bundle down next to the
vase, her bodice dipping slightly as she leaned forward. Edenham appreciated the effort, and indeed, enjoyed the view. “It was
a gift.”
“For services rendered?”
“Edenham, you are too coarse by half. Why, I do wonder
where you get such ideas.”
“Do you?”
Sophia smiled and leaned back against the cushions. “Darling
Edenham, if you want to know something, why not simply ask?
I have very few secrets.”
“But the ones you do have are so very intriguing,” he said,
studying her face.
He’d known Sophia for years. They were close in age, though
not at all close in experience, either shared or otherwise. He had
never known the sweetness of lying betwixt her legs; indeed, he
had no wish to. He was, perhaps, one of the few men who
could say that, not that he would ever admit so publicly. No, he
was not such a fool, for a fool is what would be thought of any
man not eager to bed Sophia Dalby.
It was not that he did not find her beautiful, for she was and
he was not blind to beauty in any form. It was that he had so very
few friends and he counted Sophia as one of them, though he
could not think why. They shared no intimacies of any sort. He
did not know her secrets, nor did she know his. It was, perhaps,
36 CLAUDIA DAIN
that she did not hold him in either awe or fear, and that was
worth more to him than he would have thought possible ten
years past.
Perhaps, studying her now, her expression curious, clearly
waiting for him to entertain her and even delight her, if he could
manage it, she valued
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