Page 7 of The Duke’s Godsend Bride

Marian allowed herself to be led toward the door, though she shot Anthony one final, critical look over her shoulder. “Eat a proper breakfast, Anthony. You look as though you have been staying up half the night chasing ghosts.”

“I will, Grandmother,” he replied softly.

The door closed behind them, leaving the study blessedly quiet once more. Anthony shook his head with a chuckle as he reached for his pen.

The peace, however, lasted precisely thirty seconds.

The study door opened again, and his butler stepped into the room.

“Your Grace,” the butler announced, keeping his hands neatly clasped behind his back. “You have a visitor.”

Anthony paused, his pen hovering just above the paper. He frowned slightly, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was barely mid-morning. He had no scheduled callers for today, and certainly none expected at this hour.

“A visitor?” Anthony asked, raising a brow. “Who on earth could possibly be calling this early?”

“A visitor requesting an audience, Your Grace,” the butler replied. “A lady. She states she has an appointment.”

“Ah!” Anthony’s pen came to a complete halt as he realized exactly who had arrived. “Escort her into the formal drawing room at once, Miller. Make certain she is seated comfortably and provided with a fresh pot of tea. Inform her that I will be down shortly.”

“Very well, Your Grace,” Miller said, offering a nod before turning toward the door.

Anthony stood up and walked over to the tall windows overlooking the front drive.

“What a wonderfully strange turn of events,” he thought.

An opportunity of this magnitude rarely fell straight into a man’s lap. He could hardly believe his own good fortune, nor could he stop thanking his own observational skills for catching that absurd looking ‘man’ in the corner of the room.

This was going to be entirely, delightfully entertaining.

A few minutes earlier...

“Good heavens!” Leonora gasped.

The front doors of Glenhaven had barely creaked open when a streak of black fur bolted past Leonora’s skirts, narrowly missing her ankles. She let out a sharp gasp, stumbling backward against the stone pillar.

“What is a cat doing here?” she said, clutching her handbag to her chest as she watched the creature scramble down the steps.

She had barely caught her breath when the butler appeared. “My apologies, madam.”

Leonora straightened her skirts, looking up to find an elderly man with immaculate silver hair and a waistcoat fitted so precisely it looked carved from stone.

“Good day,” Leonora said, lifting her chin and assuming the most dignified posture she could manage. “I am Miss Leonora Ashcroft. I have an appointment to see the Duke of Glenhaven. He is expecting me.”

The butler bowed his head. “If you will follow me, I shall escort you to the drawing room and inform His Grace of your presence.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, trailing behind him through the sprawling corridors, her eyes darting past doors and towering windows. The estate was breathtaking, situated in an affluent pocket just outside the city. Yet the scale of it only made her pulse hammer harder against her ribs.

The butler eventually led her into a drawing room, gesturing toward a plush settee then slipped out of the room, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts.

Leonora paced the length of the rug, her mind spinning wildly. She took in the fine paintings, the silver tea service waiting on a side table, and the opulence of the room. It was luxury, no doubt. Fit for a duke.

But her nerves were frayed to the breaking point. She kept wondering what this powerful, arrogant man could possibly demand of her. The most obvious, terrifying thought flashed through her mind. If he expected some sort of improper intimacy, if he dared to suggest anything of the sort, she resolved right then and there that she would march across the room, slap him clean across the face, and walk straight out the front door. She would not sell her soul, not even for the necklace.

While she was deep in her spiraling thoughts, a young maid entered, placing a pot of tea and a plate of shortbread biscuits on the table. Leonora muttered a quick word of thanks before the maid vanished again.

Not long after, the doors opened and Anthony finally walked in. He looked entirely too calm, though a flicker of amused surprise crossed his features before he smoothed it away. He leaned casually against the edge of the fireplace, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her.

“Well,” Anthony said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You make a remarkably fine young lady today, sir. Almost as convincing as you were a fine young man the other day.”