Any Duchess Will Do (Spindle Cove #4)(48)
Author: Tessa Dare

Too many people were counting on her, it seemed. Her loyalties were growing more and more divided. The duke had hired her to save him from matchmaking. The duchess wanted to be rescued from a creeping tangle of yarn. Pauline was coming to care for them both—and she knew they each needed something more.

But somewhere, much too far away, there was poor Daniela, faithfully gathering eggs and counting the days until Saturday. Her sister needed her most of all.

Pauline drew to a halt in the corridor and cast a look at the porcelain shepherdess she’d nearly demolished a few days back.

What am I doing here?

To these people, country life made for decorative figurines. She knew it to be backbreaking, ceaseless work. No matter what delusions the duchess suffered under, she could never belong in this aristocratic world.

All she wanted was a little shop in Spindle Cove and a circulating library of naughty books. Not to mean well, but to do well—for her and her sister both. She couldn’t start dreaming of the wrong fairy tale.

She was a hardworking girl, and she’d been hired for a reason. To be a comprehensive catastrophe.

“Colin. Colin, something terrible has happened.”

Colin Sandhurst, Lord Payne, looked up from the letter he was writing. His wife stood in the doorway of his study—as always, an enticing vision of dark hair and plump, kissable lips.

But her lovely eyes had gone grim behind her spectacles.

He rose from his desk at once. “Good God, Min. What is it?”

“We must do something,” she said.

“Of course we will, darling.” He crossed the room to her. “Of course we will. I could crash through the window this instant, if you asked. Or pen a strongly worded letter to The Times. But the actions we take will be more effective if you explain to me first what’s going on.”

He took her by the shoulders and guided her to the divan.

“It’s that horrid, debauched friend of yours,” she said. “From before we married.”

He chuckled. “That description fits a shocking number of people, I’m afraid. You’ll have to narrow it down.”

“The duke. That grabby, disgusting duke from Winterset Grange.”

“Halford?”

“Yes, that’s the one. He’s got Pauline Simms. Our Pauline, from the Bull and Blossom. And he’s holding her hostage here in Town.” She shuddered. “God knows what he’s done to the poor thing. Probably made her his sordid love puppet.”

Colin struggled not to laugh. “Minerva, I’m trying to follow you, but you’re making it quite difficult. Perhaps you can start again and tell me what actually happened today.”

“I saw them together. I was going to the bookshop to . . .” She blushed a little. “To see if any more copies of my book had been sold. I can’t help it.”

“And had they?”

“Yes,” she said proudly. “Three.”

“Excellent, Min. That’s brilliant.” Colin had only purchased two of them himself.

He knew she’d throttle him for buying them up, but he couldn’t help it. The market for geological treatises wasn’t especially robust. But she was so damned adorable when she was pleased with herself—and especially creative in bed. His motives were entirely selfish.

“Anyhow, as I was approaching the bookshop, I saw the two of them leaving it. The Disgusting Duke of Halford and Pauline Simms. Clear as day.”

Colin sighed. He hated to prod at a sore spot, but this was too much to be believed. “Were you wearing your spectacles?”

She gave him an offended look. “Of course I was.”

“Still. I think you must have been mistaken.”

“I’m not. I know I’m not, Colin. Don’t you believe me?”

“I believe, without a doubt, that you believe you saw them.” He clasped one of her sweet little hands in his and stroked it soothingly. “But I still think it a great improbability.”

“It’s true that two more different people never existed,” Minerva agreed. “That duke is vile and debauched. And Pauline is so well-meaning.”

“Well. Opposites do occasionally attract. And Spindle Cove women ‘abducted’ by rakes are not always so unwilling as the observer might suspect.”

She smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Before we go haring off on a rescue mission, let’s consider a few bits of information. From all evidence, Pauline had no means of traveling to London. Secondly, I know Halford. The man would never be near a bookshop. And last”—he placed a light, affectionate touch to her nose—“you have been complaining that your spectacles need new lenses. A mistake seems the most likely explanation.”

“Colin—”

“However,” he added, “I will do all I can to set your mind at ease. Today, I’ll ask around at the clubs. See what gossip there is of Halford.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll pay a call on Susanna and Lord Rycliff. If anything were amiss in Spindle Cove, they would have heard.”

“Excellent. And if our little fact-finding investigations turn up nothing, we’ll perform an experiment. We’ll call at Halford House tomorrow.”

She nodded. Her eyes misted with tears.

“Darling Min.” He stroked her cheek. “Are you truly that concerned?”

“No,” she said. “Oh, Colin. I’m just so proud.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re using the scientific method.”

Chapter Sixteen

Griff kept busy for the rest of the day. He had a full slate of appointments that afternoon, all related to the business of his estates.

It still wasn’t enough. All his meetings with solicitors and land agents and secretaries . . . They were like cannonballs stuffed in a crate. They were weighty, and they took up space—but they didn’t make the crate truly full. Thoughts of Pauline slipped in to fill every void, like a million grains of sand.

Or crystals of sugar, it might be more appropriate to say.

Somehow he made it to late afternoon, when he surrendered to the attentions of his valet. He emerged an hour later—smooth-shaven, fully dressed, and completely unprepared for the vision coming down the staircase.

Good Lord.

One look at her and Griff knew it was over. The evening was a failure before it began. No one would ever believe her to be a common serving girl. Not tonight, not looking like this.

She wore a gown in deep, lush pink, with gauzy layers of skirts billowing out from a fitted, off-the-shoulder bodice. Matching elbow-length gloves. Her hair was curled, looped, and pinned—but all in a way that managed to look effortlessly lovely and elegant. Quite a trick, that. Fleur deserved a rise in wages.