Page 4 of Defying the Duke
“She keeps the office door locked. Peter happened to arrive as she was leaving. It would appear her attack was coincidental. Miss Westfall isn’t in danger, that I can see.” Saying so didn’t convince that part of Jack’s brain that feared for her safety, however. He crossed the room and poured himself a drink, then glanced at the other men and raised the bottle in offering.
Both shook their heads.
After downing the brandy in a quick gulp, he put down the empty snifter. “I told her I’ll escort her home for the near future. I don’t trust Peter not to try to see her just to aggravate me.” He returned to where the other two sat and took the empty chair.
Dainsfield raised an eyebrow. “You could instruct one of the larger footmen to do so. It hardly requires personal attention.”
Jack gnawed on the inside of the corner of his mouth, considering why he hadn’t taken that option. “Not where Peter is concerned. I want to know what he’s up to. I want to see it. Not have someone report some vague description after the fact.”
Shuffling through the papers on his desk, Dainsfield changed the subject. “We must make a decision about the IOUs we’ve collected in the past month. Accepting them is not a practice I’m happy with.”
Shifting his mindset from his brother to business, Abingdon sat up straighter. What he enjoyed most about owning Sutcliffe’s with his two best friends was the exchange of ideas and working together to make more money.
While sitting at her desk late the next day, Dinah heard a key in the lock. She quickly stacked the old cash reports under the current ones so whoever entered wouldn’t question why she had them on her desk.
The door opened, and the Duke of Abingdon strode in as if he owned the place, which he did, in part. His lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “Good evening, Miss Westfall.”
She allowed her lips to spread to show him what a smile truly looked like as she rose. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
He stood just inside the door, studying her for the longest of moments, then glanced about the room. She took her seat and went back to counting coins. He cleared his throat.
Without looking up, Dinah scribbled the count on her paper. “You’re almost an hour early. I must finish my tasks.”
“I am your employer,” he replied, his tone easy. “If I say you’re finished, you may leave early.”
She counted off the next batch of coins, sliding them across the desk and into her hand before writing down the number. “As your employee, I’m the one who will be chastised when the deposit isn’t ready in the morning.”
Abingdon growled under his breath, and from the corner of her eye, she saw him round the opposite desk and pull out the chair to sit. She heard drawers open and close and items shuffle around. It sounded like a child was in the room.
He rose then and crossed to the bookshelf.
“I’m almost finished,” Dinah said. The room was quiet long enough that she thought she had a reprieve from the distraction, then he spoke again.
“How did you become interested in accounts?”
She sighed. “I’m not interested in them. Mathematics came easily to me as a child, and I started helping my father when I was twelve. It’s merely a chore I’ve mastered.”
Abingdon took a book off the shelf, replaced it, took another, and so on. After a few minutes, he asked, “What are you interested in?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What did you enjoy studying? You appear to be very intelligent. I’m curious. What do you love?”
I love working alone, she thought. Aloud, she answered, “History. No unyielding rules to master. Interesting people doing exciting activities.”
“I see. And what is your favorite time in history?”
“Thirty minutes ago, when I thought I had fifteen minutes of work left in my day.” When she realized she’d said that out loud, she flinched and peered up at the duke.
He laughed and said no more.
Quickly enough, Dinah tallied the last of the cash, then placed the money back in the box and locked it. She stacked the papers, remembered she had some older work mixed with the new, and separated the piles before placing them in folders in the drawer and locking it, too. “Now, I’m done,” she announced as she rose and took her pelisse from the rack.
Abingdon reached to take it from her, and she fumbled awkwardly as she’d been about to slip one arm into a sleeve. He tugged it from her hands.
She sniffed in exasperation but turned her back to him and held out her arms.
The duke slid the coat up her arms. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”