Page 30 of A Diamond for a Duke

No one ventured near or detected their presence behind the neatly-trimmed seven-foot shrubs bordering Theo’s house.

In a few concise, shuddery sentences, Jemmah explained what happened after he left the ball last night.

“So, because I refused to cede the opportunity to Adelinda, as I have almost everything of import my entire life, my mother put me from our house. I was only permitted to take what I could fit in one bag.”

Jules stroked her slender spine, desperate to comfort her. “Well, I can think of two ladies who will be euphoric at this turn of events. Three, if you count Sabrina. She was over the moon with excitement when I told her you’d generously offered to teach her drawing.”

He wasn’t exactly distressed either.

Her change in circumstances played quite nicely into his intent to woo her.

Jemmah sniffled and dashed her fingers across her face. “May I impose upon you to borrow your handkerchief?”

Great galloping giraffes.

The poor darling didn’t even own a scrap of cloth with which to dab her impossibly expressive eyes.

Jules passed her the starched and neatly-folded monogrammed square and waited while she dried her face, then blew her nose. Once she regained her self-control, he collected her bag and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Gazing down at her, he smiled tenderly. “I’d be a liar if I pretended I’m not thrilled I shall be able to call upon you here now.”

An adorable flush swept her face, accompanied by a winsome upward tilt of her mouth.

“Yes, there is that to look forward to. If Aunt Theo agrees to me staying with her.”

“She will, of course. And do you look forward to me paying my addresses?”

He hadn’t meant to go that far just yet, but the opportunity had presented itself, and he had impulsively told her he meant to court her.

Rather than using the front entrance, he steered her to the open French windows outside the ballroom.

Servants drifted in and out of the room, clearing up the remaining vestiges of last night’s celebration.

Theo’s poodle, Caesar, trotted through the empty ballroom, ebony nose and tail in the air, his nails clicking on the parquet floor.

Instead of answering straightaway, Jemmah tilted her head and regarded him through those thick, tear-damp lashes, her speculative gaze penetrating, yet reflective.

“The dowager has offered me an opportunity someone in my position isn’t likely to have replicated.”

“So have I, my precious Jem.”

Drawing her to the side of the house, Jules pulled her near. A damp breeze fluttered the cherry blossoms, sending a pink petal shower onto the sandstone pavers they stood upon.

“Why now, when you’ve scarcely paid me any notice for years?” She fiddled with her reticule strap. “I know I acted… Well, I was awfully glad to see you last night, and I did enjoy the dance. And after too. Very much, in fact. But that was… is a fairytale. I’m not a simpleton. Women like me don’t have the Duke of Dandridge paying them court when there are far lovelier, more suitable, and wealthier prospects.”

“Then don’t think of me as the duke, but as your friend of many, many years. One who has never held another as dear, and one who with all of his heart, wants to be more.” He trailed his finger along her jaw. “Much more, if you’ll let me.”

Jules settled his lips onto hers, tasting once again the sweetness of her mouth. He poured all of his yearning, his love into the kiss, communicating what he so desperately needed to tell her.

Without prompting, Jemmah opened her mouth, and using the skills he’d taught her last night, proceeded to send any vestige of logical thought he retained, spiraling out of control.

Holding her face between his palms, he angled her head to kiss her deeper still, savoring her velvety tongue sparring with his.

Amuffled woof, followed by snuffling near his ankles reined in his passion.

What was Jules thinking, kissing her in broad daylight?

Evidently, even a pragmatic somber fellow such as himself, once besotted, didn’t think at all clearly.