Page 3 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

T his scent. The soft richness of tobacco followed her as she slowly made her way up the stairs, taunting, teasing, and wholly unnerving her. He unnerved her. In what world was Louisa leading the Duke of Mortimer, of all men, back to her bedchamber?

Her family’s nemesis.

Her nemesis?

She snuck a peek over her shoulder. He didn’t walk beside her but rather kept pace behind her right shoulder, allowing her to take charge even though he knew very well the way back.

She supposed she ought to be grateful for the courtesy, however misleading it may be.

But this false sense of security from him bothered her less than his overpowering presence utterly engulfing her.

No part of her was not aware of his exact position, his exact movement, and even though his legs were so much longer than hers, he kept the perfect pace to keep the most exact distance between them.

Her nemesis?

Yes, and yet he impossibly also felt like a savior. And not least because he did look remarkably like a man who’d stepped out of a thrilling Greek mythology tale. Handsome to the point of sin.

She entered her chamber and didn’t hesitate to stride over to the bed.

She placed the kitchen candle on her small bedside table and lowered onto her knees to reach beneath the bed.

She glanced at the duke—far too close—who took a spot right next to the source of light.

She couldn’t believe the man was in her bedchamber, looming over her with his towering height.

Very well, he wasn’t looming . But he did take up space.

A lot of space.

The cap was back on his head, hiding his soft mop of russet hair. Her eye caught on the one freckle beneath his left eye, and she quickly glanced away. She also did not find that freckle rather adorable.

Focus, Louisa.

She pulled the case from under the bed and opened it, rummaging through the tons of bonnets and ribbons stored there.

Her brows furrowed.

Where was the blasting thing?

She rifled deeper.

And dug and dug until all the bonnets scattered around the case and only an empty space filled the thing.

This... was rather impossible, wasn’t it? She motioned with her hand without looking at him. “Bring the candle over.” Light bloomed over her mess as the candle was lifted over her shoulder. Had exhaustion claimed her sight? “What do you see, Your Grace?”

A moment of silence. “Nothing.”

“So, I’m not imagining things.” That was something, at least.

“The book is not where you placed it?”

Her gaze lifted to his face. “No.” She could have sworn she’d hidden it here, hadn’t she? No, she did hide it here. There could be no mistake. And yet...

“Is there another case?” he enquired.

“No.” Her eyes drifted back to the case as she inspected every inch. “This is the only one.” And no one else knew about the book.

“Are you certain you are not confusing this spot for another?”

She turned a glare his way. “I am not senile.” But could she really have been mistaken?

It wouldn’t be the first time she misplaced something or thought she’d put an item in one place but found it in another.

She would never admit that, of course. The man already sounded so annoyingly male with his light condescension.

She glanced around the room, her gaze falling on her writing desk. She rose and quickly padded over, motioning for him to follow with the light, hoping to find that perhaps she had put it there.

She hadn’t.

Neither had she hidden it in her chest of drawers, armoire, beneath the mattress of her bed, or even the pillows. She inspected every corner of her chamber and came up with a rather puzzling loss.

Surely . . . this couldn’t be?

“I suspect we have a problem,” the duke remarked flatly.

Lawks! “Weren’t you rummaging through my belongings moments ago? Why are you standing there as still as a tree now?”

“I searched in most of the places you did, my lady, and it wouldn’t be proper of me to rifle through your belongings with you in plain sight.”

“ That’s where you draw the line?”

“Most would commend me for having a line.”

Louisa gave a derisive laugh. “What an arrogant thing to say for a thief who got caught.”

He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said. “Is it possible that someone might have found the book and moved it? Like a servant?”

Louisa thought about it. Other than misplacing items, in the past she’d also dreamed or imagined she’d done something when in reality she hadn’t, but then she believed she had. A rather strange occurrence, to be sure, though thankfully it didn’t happen often.

However, could this be the case with the book?

If so, then had she simply left that cursed thing in the drawing room somewhere?

Ah, Theodosia! Why bring this curse to me?

She had never wanted to touch the thing.

But the blasted book had been stolen from White’s because, along with seven other heiresses, their best attributes and worst attributes were being tallied and their eventual marriages wagered over upon in its pages.

Ghastly business. And she wanted only to put it and the comment it contained about her childbearing hips aside!

She scoffed inside.

Perhaps she could not remember where she placed it because her mind wished to erase the entire ordeal from its space.

She wouldn’t mind. Even so, the entry itself didn’t bother her as much as the men who had written it.

Honestly, was that the best they could do?

Still, what had started only as the source of London’s recent social chaos had now become evidence to bring down a criminal organization.

Urg.

I hate that damn book.

Had she carried it to her chamber and tossed it carelessly about out in the open?

But then what had happened to it? No servant would take anything from her chamber.

Had she truly left it in the drawing room, then?

Wait... hadn’t she browsed through the book the previous night by the light of a candle in the kitchen?

Louisa sighed.

Truthfully, at times, she found herself so exhausted from lack of sleep that she couldn’t tell left from right. Those tired days went by at the pace of a snail, and a daze would settle over her for most of the mornings.

“I’m not sure,” Louisa said after a moment. “I might have misplaced it more thoroughly than I thought.” She didn’t have to glance at him to determine what sort of look he made. “Yes, yes, I thought I hid it in the case, but I might have been a touch confused.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“No, but even the air surrounding you practically cried out in accusation.”

“I’ll admit, I am curious how a person could misplace such a book to such a degree.”

“Rather easily,” Louisa muttered. “If you must know, I have trouble sleeping, which at times, causes me to be a bit muddleheaded.”

“Ah.”

She sent him a dirty look, marveling at how much unspoken reproval could be infused in such a simple sound.

Only a duke . . .

She snuck a glance at him again. The Duke of Mortimer was more than a handsome man—he was a sculpture of perfection.

On the outside. Chiseled jawline. Amber eyes that saw straight through a person’s soul.

Brown hair with a reddish tint that feathered his cheeks almost mischievously, even though she couldn’t say one tendril of hair was out of place.

But now was not the time to observe a man’s beauty!

A pinch of guilt made its way to her breast as she recalled the reason he was searching for the book. She shouldn’t have been so careless with it, especially since its pages contained the evidence he needed to put away criminals.

“It’s late,” she said. “You should head back to your lodgings. I shall continue the search in the morning. I’m certain I shall find it when I’m more refreshed.”

“You are absolutely sure someone has not taken it?”

“Who would do such a thing?” No one except Theodosia, that madman Saville, and the duke knew she even had the book in her possession.

“I’ll search all the places I might have taken the book.

If one of the servants did decide to put it away, they might have taken it in my father’s study or the library. ”

She could tell he didn’t like that answer. Not that any of his facial muscles moved when he received the news—anything but that —but the tension in the room stirred, faint yet impossible to miss. A whisper of danger. It was a feeling she got rather than anything she could see.

“Do not worry,” she tried to reassure him. “Our families might not get along, but I give you my word that I shall search for the book in the morning and send word to you when I find it.”

Those hot eyes never left hers as he continued to observe her. “Very well,” he said slowly. “I shall look forward to receiving your good news.”

Louisa nodded. “By the by, where are you staying? If I am to send news, I should know.”

“I am staying at the Bullheaded Inn.”

The...? A bubble of laughter escaped through her mouth. If that wasn’t an apt name for the man to call a temporary home, Louisa didn’t know what would be! “An interesting choice.”

“Will your parents be returning anytime soon?” he asked, ignoring that last.

“Do not fret; they are traveling about for a fortnight or so. They certainly shan’t return on the morrow.”

He gave a curt nod. “Then I shall be on my way.”

Louisa watched him slip from the room with her brows deepening.

If the light yet prominent scent of sandalwood hadn’t remained, she might have thought this whole affair a dream.

At least for this moment, she couldn’t claim it was any form of her imagination.

Would she still be able to claim such a thing in the morning?

She inhaled deeply.

Normally, she didn’t care for this scent. But on the duke... he smelled rather wonderful.

It’s best if you stop liking it altogether, Louisa.

The man was no friend to her family. Granted, she herself paid no mind to whatever grievances her father and whoever else had with the duke’s family. However, that did not mean it would be the same for him.