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The Duke I'm Going to Marry(18)

By:Meara Platt


However, Phoebe wasn’t finished with her yet. “I see. Can’t be trusted on your own.”

Dillie swallowed hard, the hot liquid obviously searing her throat as it went down too fast. “Not in the least.”

Hell. That came out very wrong.

“I mean, not medically.” She began to fidget. “Otherwise, I can be trusted. Of course I can be trusted. Why would I not?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who seems concerned about it.” Though she and Phoebe were seated across from each other, separated by a tea table, Dillie must have felt as if the harridan were breathing down her neck.

She was in trouble here, but knew better than to glance at him again. She turned to Daisy instead, silently begging for help. The Farthingale sisters were close, always supported each other. Ian wondered how it felt. He’d experienced support on the battlefield, could always rely on Gabriel and Graelem to guard his back. There were other men he trusted as well. But that was during wartime, saving England and the Continent from Napoleon’s army.

He’d never felt the soft, nurturing support of a woman.

Hell, he’d never felt any family support.

Daisy sprang into action. “Ah, I see you’ve finished your tea, Lady Withnall. How did you like it? Isn’t the oriental blend delightful? It’s a new one I discovered in a local tea shop. Oh, and I discovered the quaintest bake shop as well. Dillie, I have a special treat for you.”

“You do?” Dillie smiled her thanks at the change in conversation.

Ian stifled a grin as he watched her. She was feeling more relaxed now that Daisy had come to her rescue. Dillie popped a bite of sardine and watercress sandwich in her mouth, obviously didn’t like it, and then lifted the cup to her lips to wash down the hideous combination. “Mmm, good,” she muttered unconvincingly.

She took another gulp of her tea just as her sister added, “This little bake shop makes the most delicious hot cross buns. I ordered them special just for you. Here, try one. Don’t they look tempting? So firm and golden.”

Dillie choked on her tea.

Ian jumped to his feet to help her, positioning himself to block her from Phoebe’s view. Bloody hell! The girl wore her expression on her sleeve. She was thinking of his naked buns, and it took all his control to keep from bursting into laughter.

He grabbed the cup from her trembling hand before she spilled its remaining contents onto her lap.

Eloise came to his side to help. “Oh, Dillie! You know that sardines don’t agree with you. Poor dear. You ought to have stayed with the sweets. I know just the shop Daisy mentioned. I’ll invite you over next week.” She stared sympathetically at Dillie. “Then you can taste my golden buns.”

Dillie coughed again. Gagged actually, as the mix of tea and sardines that had lodged in her throat now threatened to heave upward. Thankfully, she managed to hold it all down. Almost. A droplet of tea had dribbled down her chin. Ian wiped it off with his thumb.

She was an adorable mess.

He still wanted to draw her into his arms and kiss her into forever.

Daisy and Gabriel were now standing over him, eager to help. Daisy squeezed between him and Dillie, and leaned in close to her sister. “Dillie, are you all right?”

Dillie responded with a sneeze into the handkerchief Ian had just withdrawn from his breast pocket and stuck in front of her face.

Daisy and Gabriel took a quick step back. “I’ll fetch you a glass of apple cider,” Daisy said.

“I’ll go with you,” Gabriel added, hastily following her out of the room as though the thought of being left alone with Dillie was as appealing as cleaning Ivy’s soiled bottom.

Ian knelt beside Dillie as she sneezed into his handkerchief again. “I’m so sorry!” Her eyes were now tearing and her face was red hot.

“It’s those dratted sardines,” Eloise said sympathetically.

Dillie nodded furiously. “You know what they do to me. And I think there’s too much pepper on them!”

Curious. He’d eaten one of those sandwiches and had encountered no such problem. He’d also seen Dillie pepper her food before and suffer no ill consequences. Was she truly suffering, or was the little actress faking? If so, she was doing a damn good job of it.

She sneezed again.

Maybe not faking. Her face was as red as a cranberry and her breaths were still shaky. Perhaps she was genuinely in distress. He frowned and moved closer.

She looked vulnerable and scared, seeming to plead for his help not only in distracting Phoebe but also in helping calm her down. Of course, he would do all in his power. Her breaths were erratic. From the pepper and sardines? His heart tightened. “Dillie, close your eyes and breathe slowly.”