Page 27 of Project Duchess

“Blast it all!” she cried. Recently she’d noticed it was fraying and had been meaning to replace it, but not soon enough.

Then she realized she’d cursed aloud. In front of the duke.

But instead of disapproving, he burst into laughter. “You have a very colorful vocabulary, madam.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair. “That’s what happens when one spends all one’s time around men who don’t govern their language.”

“Not my stepfather, I hope.”

“No. Just Joshua and Uncle Armie.” She sighed. “When I said bad words as a child, Grandmama used to frown and say I was as naughty a saucebox as Papa had been. I dotryto watch my language. I just don’t always succeed.”

He chuckled. “What made you fail this time?”

She pointed to her boot. “I’ve broken a lace.”

“Ah.” He followed the direction of her finger. “So you have.”

She gazed up at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose you have any extra laces or even string in those capacious pockets of yours?”

“Sadly, no. But I do have a cravat.”

“What good will that do?”

“I’ll show you.”

He led her to a fallen oak trunk, tugging the dogs along with him. Handing her the leashes, he removed his greatcoat and spread it over the massive log with the outside down. Then he began to unknot his cravat. “Sit here and remove your shoe with the broken lace.”

“I can walk with it like this. I’ll merely have to go more slowly.”

“Nonsense. You could easily turn your ankle if your boot is ill-laced, especially on this uneven ground.”

She was used to always having to look after her own needs, to manage under difficult circumstances. It felt odd to have a gentleman being so solicitous of her. “Truly, there’s no need for you to sully your—”

“Sit!” he said firmly.

All three dogs dropped onto their haunches. The startled look on the duke’s face tickled her so much that she burst into laughter. After a second, Grey joined in, while the dogs sat patiently, waiting for the next command.

“As I said,” Grey remarked once he stopped laughing, “the hounds are very well trained.”

“They ought to be. I trained them.” When he blinked, she said, “Don’t look so astonished. We don’t have the luxury of hiring a man to do it. As it is, MacTilly’s hands are full with the feeding and breeding, and Joshua’s hands are full with managing the rest of the gamekeeper’s duties. So I help where I can.” She scratched Hector’s head. “I trained these three fellows myself.”

“I see.” Grey waved his hand at the log. “If you would please take a seat . . .”

“What, have you given up on commanding me like the dogs?” she quipped.

“Beatrice, I beg of you to sit down,” he said, his tone a bit testy.

That only made her want to tease him more, though she did at least perch on his coat before saying, “Whatever Your Grace wishes.”

“Watch it, minx, or I will hold you to that one day. And given your recalcitrant nature, that won’t end well.”

“Me! I’m no more recalcitrant than you.”

“True.” He knelt on one knee to remove her boot, then took her stockinged foot and set it on his other knee.

His hand lingered on her ankle, the warmth of his fingers practically searing her through the stockinet. Yet it could not have been more than a second before he moved his hand away to focus on unlacing the half-boot he now held in both hands.

By propping her foot up, he was merely behaving as a gentleman who didn’t wish her to ruin her stockings on the leaf-littered ground. She was certain ofthat.Still, there was something very intimate about having her heel resting on his thigh. His very muscular thigh.