Without another word, she quit the room.
Miss Green followed, though she paused before exiting. For one blessed second they were alone together. His heart lurched.
“The bell pull,” she said, giving a tug on a gold, corded rope hanging near the door. “It will summon a servant, who will honor your request.”
The duchess had kept her cool with the duke, but once the doors closed behind Meredith, her frustration revealed itself in a sharp huff of annoyance and the brisk pace with which she walked down the corridor. Meredith didn’t have the luxury of revealing her feelings.
Tap tap tap. The duchess’s shoes clicked along the marble tiles.
Thump thump thump. Meredith’s heart was still pounding from the anxiety that, at any second, the duke would give her away with one of his smoldering glances or an offhanded remark. In her defense, she hadn’t known who he was then—but that excuse would hardly hold sway with Her Grace. Especially when she was in a mood like this.
“That was more of a trial than I had hoped. It was not unexpected, though still exasperating,” the duchess said. “Any man in England would be beside himself to inherit a dukedom, but no, the title must go to an American who could not care less.”
“He may just need time to adjust to this dramatic change,” Meredith replied.
She spoke from her own experience. Meredith remembered being a young girl coming from a simple life to live with the duchess and suddenly being expected to dress, speak, and behave a certain way. She was supposed to learn French and embroidery and a dozen other things that girls like her were never expected to know.
She hadn’t been sure if she could do it and had been overwhelmed by the prospect of even trying. The duchess was so exacting.
She suspected James the duke felt the same way.
The difference between them was that he had the liberty of rejecting the lot of it. He could go back to America, an ocean away from all of this.
Of course, Meredith was free to leave at any time, too, but her alternatives were far less alluring—and she had confirmed that on her recent trip home. She recognized that staying with the duchess as her companion was her best opportunity for a secure, comfortable, and interesting life.
“We don’t have time for him to adjust,” the duchess continued sharply. “The estate needs a firm hand and guidance soon. The gossip columns are already rife with speculation about him and his sisters.”
“Never mind the gossip columns, Your Grace. This is only his first day. Perhaps you’ll make more progress with him tomorrow, or with his sisters this afternoon. We have a modiste appointment with them shortly. Soon they’ll look the part of perfect English ladies, and you have said that is half the battle.”
The duchess sighed. “I fear your optimism may be misplaced, but I do like how you hope for the best.”
The duchess paused, troubled, as she considered something. Meredith could read her well. She waited, patiently, for Her Grace to speak.
“I will need your assistance, Meredith.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“He seems like he responds to you,” the duchess said.
Thump. Thump. Thump. No one was supposed to notice or to know. But nothing ever escaped the duchess, now did it?
“And Lord knows his sisters will keep me occupied,” she added with a sigh. “I need you to help me turn him into a proper duke. I’ve taught you well, Meredith, and now it’s time for you to help me teach him.”
Thump. Thump. Crack.
Heart, still pounding. Heart, starting to break.
Meredith, who had vowed to avoid him, found herself saying yes.
Chapter 3
Being the highest-ranking, most powerful, and probably the most handsome and charming man in the room, the duke should always take the lead. Including, but not limited to, dancing.
—The Rules for Dukes
Days passed with Meredith catching only glimpses of the duke. He spent his hours behind closed doors in the study, consumed with the demands of solicitors and estate managers, and some of the late duke’s colleagues in parliament.
Was he coming around to the idea of this duke business?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
These sessions were inevitably followed by a visit to the stables, doing whatever it was that one did in the stables. She learned from his sisters that he would spend an hour or two brushing down horses or saddling one up himself and going for a ride and then grooming the animal afterward. In other words, servant’s work.
In spite of the duchess’s request that Meredith work closely with him, she hadn’t had the chance. For this she was glad, because it also meant fewer encounters to tempt her.
His Grace had obeyed her wishes not to say a word about their night at the tavern and to not even try to seduce her once more. No heated glances, no secret half smiles, no brushing of hands as they passed on the stairs or in the hall.