Page 229 of Dukes for Dessert

Judith oozed into the entranceway, accidentally-on-purpose brushing her every ample curve against the increasingly flustered butler.

“You are everything that is kind and thoughtful,” she fawned with a flutter of silver eyelashes.

“I was summoned,” Carole hissed behind her hand. “He had to let us in.”

But the truth was, Judith’s not-exactly-unrequited infatuation was fortuitous indeed. Rather than hover like a mistrustful chaperone, Swinton would be too distracted by Judith’s attentions to bother trailing after Carole.

In fact… A smile tugged at her lips as she inched away from them toward the library. Just because Carole had determined to live the life of a spinster, didn’t mean Judith was destined to share that fate. The man had visited a barber on the off chance the neighboring housemaid might drop by. It wasn’t exactly posies and roses, but it was as good a first step as any. If this was love, Carole wouldn’t stand in the way. She—

A wall of tall, solid man blocked her path.

Carole narrowly avoided smashing face-first into his snowy white cravat. Perhaps that was why her nose hovered next to his broad chest for an extra second, breathing in the warm scent of sandalwood and spice, before she jerked backward to properly greet her host.

“Your Grace.” Was that a curtsy? It might’ve been a curtsy. Right now, her legs felt too much like a wooden marionette to register whether she’d bent her knees or not.

“Miss Quincy.” His voice was aloof and cold, just like the impression he’d always given her… until today.

After being that close to his chest, today it seemed like inside all that ice was a core of molten heat.

“Sorry about the curtsy.” There. Whether she’d made a terrible one or none at all, he deserved an apology either way. “Shall we remove to the library?”

“After you.” He stepped out of her way.

Carole expected to be able to breathe again, but the added arm’s length of distance only meant she could see him even more clearly.

Azureford had not procured a new coiffure. His dark locks curled over his forehead with careless abandon. He was a duke, she reminded herself. He did not have to try to be handsome. When he rolled out of bed each morn, his black waves did their careless thing, his soulful brown eyes did their… soulful thing, and those gorgeous cheekbones—

“Or we can stand here in the corridor all afternoon,” came Azureford’s dry voice.

The library. She had forgotten.

Shoving past him to hide a fiery blush, Carole hurried down the corridor to the library. She was not Judith. She’d never been one to fawn or coo or giggle. And she wasn’t interested in Azureford, for heaven’s sake. She just happened to be awake, and conscious people found the duke’s randomly inherited features handsome. Flowers were pretty, too, and she’d never flirted with them. This was going to be fine.

She headed straight to the first shelf and scanned the volumes in search of her sketchbook.

Azureford leaned one of his wide shoulders against the closest wall. “Are you afraid your earring somehow lodged onto the spine of a book?”

“You don’t know my methods,” she snapped. “Are you going to loom over my shoulder as I look?”

“Long-distance looming,” he mused, his voice droll. “I had no idea that was one of my talents.”

All right, fine. He was at least six feet away. Not far enough.

Carole scanned the rest of the tomes before her as quickly as she could, then turned to a different set of shelves so Azureford was no longer visible in the corner of her eye.

Too light a blue… Too dark a hue… The right blue, but not her sketchbook…

She heard scuffing from somewhere behind her. Then a thud. And another thud. Carole whirled around.

Azureford was piling books into a wooden crate.

“What are you doing?” She dashed to his side, heart pounding.

“Putting those books—” He pointed. “—in here.” He pointed again.

That much was obvious. How could she stop him before he accidentally stumbled across her sketchbook?

“Can’t you assign a servant to the task later?” she stammered.