She was babbling, but he was kind enough not to remark upon it, instead saying, “I’m sure it will be an improvement over my current lodgings.”
She glanced over at him with surprise. “Oh. I had assumed-” She broke off, too embarrassed to remark that she’d thought him a homeless nomad.
“A life of posting inns and grassy fields,” he said with an affected sigh. “Such is the fate of a highwayman.”
“Do you enjoy it?” She surprised herself, both by asking it and also by how very curious she was in the answer.
He grinned. “Robbing coaches?”
She nodded.
“It depends on who is in the coach,” he said softly. “I very much enjoyed not robbing you.”
“Not robbing me?” She turned then, and the ice, which had been cracked, was officially broken.
“I didn’t take a thing, did I?” he returned, all innocence.
“You stole a kiss.”
“That,” he said, leaning forward with great cheek, “was freely given.”
“Mr. Audley…”
“I do wish you’d call me Jack,” he sighed.
“Mr. Audley,” she said again. “I did not-” She looked quickly about, then lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “I did not…do…what you said I did.”
He smiled lazily. “When did ‘kiss’ become such a dangerous word?”
She clamped her lips together because truly there was no way she would gain the upper hand in this conversation.
“Very well,” he said. “I shan’t torment you.”
It would have been a kind and generous statement if he hadn’t followed it with: “Today.”
But even then, she smiled. It was difficult not to, in his presence.
They were in the upper hall now, and Grace turned toward the family apartments where he would be staying. They moved along in silence, giving her ample time to consider the gentleman beside her. She did not care what he’d said about not completing university. He was extremely intelligent, unique vocabulary notwithstanding. And there was no arguing against his charm. There was no reason he should not be gainfully employed. She could not ask him why he was robbing coaches, however. It was far too forward on so short an acquaintance.
It was ironic, that. Who would have thought she’d be worried about manners and propriety with a thief?
“This way,” she said, motioning for him to follow her to the left.
“Who sleeps down there?” Mr. Audley asked, peering in the opposite direction.
“His grace.”
“Ah,” he said darkly. “His grace.”
“He is a good man,” Grace said, feeling she must speak up for him. If Thomas had not behaved as he ought, it was certainly understandable. From the day of his birth, he’d been raised to be the Duke of Wyndham. And now, with the flimsiest of fate twists, he’d been informed that he might be nothing more than plain Mr. Cavendish.
If Mr. Audley had had a rough day, well then, surely Thomas’s was worse.
“You admire the duke,” Mr. Audley stated. Grace couldn’t quite tell if this was a question; she didn’t think so. But either way, his tone was dry, as if he thought she was somewhat naive for doing so.
“He is a good man,” she repeated firmly. “You will agree with me, once you further your acquaintance.”
Mr. Audley let out an amused little puff of breath. “You sound like a servant now, starched and prim and properly loyal.”
She scowled at him, but he clearly did not care, because he was already grinning and saying, “Are you going to defend the dowager next? I should like to hear you do it, because I’m most curious as to how, exactly, one would attempt such a feat.”
Grace could not imagine that he might actually expect her to reply. She turned, though, so he could not see her smile.
“I could not manage it myself,” he continued, “and I’m told I have a most silver tongue.” He leaned forward, as if imparting a grave secret. “It’s the Irish in me.”
“You’re a Cavendish,” she pointed out.
“Only half.” And then he added, “Thank God.”
“They’re not so bad.”
He let out a chuckle. “They’re not so bad? That’s your rousing defense?”
And then heaven help her, she could not think of a single good thing to say except, “The dowager would give her life for the family.”
“Pity she has not done so already.”
Grace shot him a startled look. “You sound just like the duke.”
“Yes, I’d noticed they had a warm and loving relationship.”
“Here we are,” Grace said, pushing open the door to his chamber. She stepped back then. It could not be proper for her to accompany him into his room. Five years she’d been at Belgrave, and she’d never once stepped foot inside Thomas’s chambers. She might not have much in this world, but she had her self-respect, and her reputation, and she planned to keep a firm hold on both.
Mr. Audley peeked in. “How very blue,” he remarked.
She could not help but smile. “And silken.”
“Indeed.” He stepped inside. “You’re not going to join me?”
“Oh, no.”
“Didn’t think you would. Pity. I’m going to have to loll about all on my own, rolling in all this silken blue splendor.”
“The dowager was right,” Grace said with a shake of her head. “You’re never serious.”
“Not true. I’m quite frequently serious. It’s up to you to figure out when.” He shrugged as he wandered over to the writing desk, his fingers trailing idly along the blotter until they slid off the edge and back to his side. “I find it convenient to keep people guessing.”