Her Mystery Duke(40)
“Well, then, take my gift and let it make do until you get your advance.”
“Papa’s doctor meant well, but he was wrong. I am meant for more than simply serving men’s carnal needs.”
Savage emotion raged through his blood. He wished there was some way that the blackguard could be killed all over again.
“Of course he was wrong.” She wasn’t meant to be a whore. She’d been made to cherish.
Her large blue eyes were killing him. Just killing him inside. He wanted more than just to provide for her and to protect her. He wanted her.
He had to leave. Now. Or he would never leave without her. He stroked her cheek then walked away and gathered the remainder of his clothes. Pulled his waistcoat and jacket on without stopping to button them. Then he picked up his greatcoat.
And he walked out of her life.
Chapter Seven
“These new stories are exceptional.” Mr. Ratherford stared over his spectacles, his pleasant, round face bland.
Jeanne refolded her hands upon her lap. Just a moment ago, he had been staring at her so strangely. As though he’d were picking her apart, looking for some flaw upon which to base a rejection. She’d been grateful for her gloves, which hid her ink-smudged fingers. Perhaps it was just the effect of his spending so much time in this office. The chamber contained several sticks of plain but relatively new furniture and was painted in a grayish sort of green that had always made her feel a bit sad.
And she’d lost much sleep lately from writing.
Mr. Ratherford’s normally flat, brown eyes brightened. “I enjoyed all your stories but this one has something special. If you continue to develop your talents in this manner, your future will be bright indeed.”
Nothing could make her feel sad now. All her tension melted away in the wake of such happy news. She couldn’t help smiling.
Mr. Ratherford laid the stack of pages upon his desk. “If you can give me seven more stories, just like these, then we shall have to draw up another contract for an additional leather-bound volume.” He opened his desk and pulled out a document. “I have the contract for the first volume here. If you sign today, we can move forward with all due speed.”
She folded her hands a little tighter and a small smile tugged at her mouth.
“Does that please you, Miss Darling?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, let us see to the signing, shall we?”
She read through the contract and signed. When she was done, her gloves were soaked through with sweat.
“I say this calls for a celebration, does it not?” Mr. Ratherford said.
Pleasure pressed on her throat, rendering her incapable of speaking. Jeanne fancied that she just might be walking on air instead of sitting.
The back of her neck prickled. She looked up and caught him studying her so intently that once again he appeared to be picking her apart. As if she were under suspicion. She’d been smiling this whole time and now that smile faltered a bit. “Mr. Ratherford, is there something wrong?”
“Miss Darling, I would like to escort you to the theatre.”
Shock washed over her, all bubbly and joyful, like the champagne Bernard had once given her. Would she like to go to the theatre? Was Ratherford jesting? She’d only been to the theatre a handful of times with Bernard. The experience still held magic for her. Thankfully Bernard hadn’t asked her to return the evening gown he’d gifted her with. It had seemed silly not to sell it but now she was exceedingly glad she hadn’t.
“I would be quite honored, Mr. Ratherford.”
“This evening I shall pick you up in my carriage. I’ll also give you a little advance at that time for these new stories.”
* * * *
Seated in the Drury Lane Theatre, Jeanne took out her opera glasses. They were secondhand, old fashioned, tarnished. But they worked. Bernard sometimes rented or borrowed a box but tonight she and Mr. Ratherford sat with the common folk. It surprised her that Bernard had more resources available to him than Ratherford did, but she didn’t mind. Sitting down here was a different experience and one she was enjoying because it gave her a better vantage point to observe others. These were the best moments, before the performance began.
She scanned the grand theater boxes, her gaze drinking in all the color, the various faces and forms. She listened to the hushed rumble of voices of the elegant people who occupied them.
A tall man with a high, broad forehead, long, elegant nose, sharply hewn cheekbones, and hair as black as midnight, made her freeze. A thrill passed through her insides and she sucked in her breath.
Oh, goodness.
David.
His box was filled with gentlemen. And one woman who sat at David‘s side, casually touching his arm and leaning close to whisper in his ear. She was dressed in an expensive-looking gown with glittering earbobs and necklace. She was tall, voluptuous in the right way, with full but not too large breasts, and a waist which a man’s hands could easily span. Not a plump little plum like Jeanne.