Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (11 page)

grew. How could it not? She was defiant, strong, and

determined. The muscles in his legs tensed, readying

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him to cross the room to her. Instead, he bent down and

lifted the chamber pot. Though he knew he should not,

he could not resist a parting shot as he turned and crossed

to the door.

“I shall remove the slops for you this time, Miss

Ramsey. But perhaps you should rethink your decidedly

unwomanly attitude before you meet His Grace.”

Her shocked gasp followed him down the stairs, and

he let a small smile of triumph stretch his lips. It had been the most egregious lie, but it had been worth it to anger

her. She angered and frustrated him to no end. Let her

taste her own medicine.

Passing Henrietta on his way down the back stairs, he

nodded a polite greeting and tried to ignore the young

maid’s disdainful scowl. Even his fellow servant’s dislike

could not temper his satisfaction at having spoken so

to Miss Ramsey. She was far too idealistic, and if he

could disabuse her of her starry- eyed notions before she

followed them into trouble, then so much the better.

His personal satisfaction was simply a bonus.

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Nine

Avery disappeared through the dressing room door

carrying that disgusting chamber pot and leaving a

completely stunned Leah in his wake.

Unwomanly? Had he seriously just told her that?

She looked down at the floor where the chamber pot

had been only a moment before. The last thing in the

world she’d wanted was to carry a toilet down the stairs

to empty it in the backyard. But she hadn’t asked Avery

for help, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to snark

at her like that.

Biting her lip, she bent and rolled up the rug in front

of the hearth. What could Avery have meant by that?

Was it to be expected from a man who was unused to

having a woman speak her mind? Or was it something

more? She blew an exasperated breath as she straightened.

She wasn’t exactly the most graceful and soft- spoken of

women, but did that make a difference in this time?

Mrs. Knightsbridge hadn’t given her much to go on.

As she dragged the rolled up rug toward the door, she

recounted the lady’s words.

“Your destined true love is in Granville House, the Duke

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of Granville’s Town home.” She’d smiled, patting Leah on the
cheek. “Be careful, my dear, and do not settle for less than the
man of your heart.”

Leaving the rug propped against the jamb like an

overgrown and drunken Cuban cigar, Leah dusted off

her hands with a decisive snap. It didn’t matter what

Avery thought. She liked herself just fine, and her

destined true love would adore her just the way she was.

She grabbed the fireplace brush and began raking the

ashes out of the fireplace.
What
matters
is
that
I
meet
the
duke
and
let
him
decide. Mrs. Knightsbridge is right. I can’t
settle for less than the man of my heart. And it has to be the
duke, right? That’s how all the stories go.

The pointed clearing of a throat brought Leah’s head

around. Holy crap, it was the duke himself. Almost like

her thoughts had conjured him from thin air.

“Good morning. Where is Russell?” the duke said in

a calm tone. “I have need of him.”

Leah gripped the fireplace brush tightly, jamming it

hard into the hearth to make up for the Jell- O in her

knees. He was there, and he was in his nightclothes. His

grayish hair was tousled, his wrinkled skin pale, his long

fingers tapping against his leg lazily. This was a decisive

man used to moving, to getting what he wanted. He was

like a perfect statue, he really was. Like George Clooney

or Sean Connery. She could work with that, right?

“He’s just stepped out, Your Grace, to get something.

He’ll be back in a minute.” She smiled, hoping her

nervousness didn’t show. She was talking to the duke,

finally! “Can I get anything for you?”

“No, thank you. Inform me when he arrives,” the

duke said.

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79

Her heart fell when he turned around and headed

back toward the bedroom. Her hands shaking on the

brush handle, she resumed sweeping out the ashes, trying

like hell to keep her disappointment in check.

“Oh, there is one thing.”

Her heart stuttered. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“What is your name?”

He smiled down at her, and his entire being changed

then. The haughty pride that had surrounded him before

melted into a pleasantly warm friendliness that Leah was

dying to wrap herself in. His too- thin face widened, his

brows lifted, and she could picture how he’d look if he

was about twenty years younger and his eyes shined with

love for her. She nearly sighed aloud in relief.
This
was the man she was here for.

“It’s Ramsey, Your Grace. And my first name is— ”

“Thank you, Ramsey.” With a polite nod, the duke

disappeared into his bedchamber, taking that beautiful

smile with him.

The handle cut into her palms as she stared at the

closed door.

Oxygen.

That was important somehow, wasn’t it?

What was it for again?

She dropped the brush and flew toward the stairs.

Avery. She had to find Avery. The duke wanted Avery,

and he knew her name, at least half of it, and he wanted

his valet so where the hell was Avery?

And if she got to rub the duke’s interest in the snarky

valet’s face, then that was just a bonus.

“Where are you off to, then?”

Henrietta’s high- pitched voice thumped Leah in the

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back of her neck like a slap from a long- dead tuna fish.

Stopping on the landing, Leah turned and faced the

younger maid.

“I’m doing my job. What are you doing?”

The younger girl shoved her mobcap back, narrowing

her eyes as she stared. “You were to be attending to His

Grace’s dressing rooms, I was told.”

“Exactly.” Leah walked back upstairs, stopping by the

doorway that Henrietta stood in. Her proximity forced

the younger maid to look upward into Leah’s face.

Stiffening her spine and raising her brows, Leah said,

“And you’re supposed to be working in the breakfast

room. So why are you up here?”

Henrietta’s mouth opened, but only a half- formed

squeak escaped it.

“So how about this? You do your job, and I’ll do mine.”

Turning on her heel, Leah hurried downstairs after

Avery. If that little devil Henrietta wasn’t careful, she’d

get on Leah’s bad side. And considering how many times

Leah had gotten the best of Jamie at that age, it was a

pretty safe bet that Henrietta would regret it.

“Avery!”

The valet in question entered the door from what

Mrs. Harper had called the “area.” He carried the thank-

fully empty chamber pot in front of him, the lid turned

upside down. Leah jumped the last two stairs to get to

him sooner.

“The duke is awake, and he asked for you. He smiled at

me, and he said my name. I was right, this is going to work.”

The words poured from her like rain from a summer

cloud. It wasn’t so much to gloat, either. More to share

her triumph with her friend. They were still friends, right?

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Avery’s nostrils flared, but he remained expressionless

other than that. “I shall attend him directly. You can

replace the chamber pot now, I trust?” He offered it to

her, but she stumbled backward, warding the disgusting

object away with waving hands.

“Can you take it up, since you’ve got to go anyway?”

She might sound pathetic, but damn it, hot water was hard

to come by around here. And she didn’t even know if

they’ve heard of bleach yet. “You’re already contaminated.”

He blew an angry breath. “I must attend to His Grace

immediately. If you are capable of performing your

duties, you must prove it now.”

Leah shifted from foot to foot, searching her boggled

brain for an answer to this problem. Gloves! Wait, they

didn’t have latex yet, did they. Maybe like, a towel or a

rag she could wrap the pot in…

Avery didn’t give her a chance to realize her half-

formed flash of brilliance. He plopped the chamber pot

in her hands and headed directly upstairs.

“Oh my God,” Leah moaned, bolting upstairs after

him as fast as she could. “I’m carrying a toilet.” Bile filled her mouth and she swallowed hard, nearly stumbling as

she hit the landing and skidded.

“Careful there.” The thread of amusement in Avery’s

words nearly made her chuck the damn pot at his head.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed as they

rounded the corner and entered the dressing chamber.

“You think it’s funny that I might die of some horrible

disease because of the lack of sanitation here.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed to the bedroom door.

“You shall not die. More’s the pity, you shall live to

empty many, many more chamber pots.”

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She didn’t have time to snap back at him because he

disappeared into the duke’s bedchamber then.

Slamming down the chamber pot into the corner

behind the screen, Leah stomped back to the fireplace

and resumed brushing the ashes out with overly violent

motions. God, that valet was such an asshole. Handsome

as all get out, but a real irritant.
Fortunately
, she thought as she tucked a loose curl back beneath her cap,
I’m on

the right track. After seeing the duke smile, I know I was right
about him. It’s just a matter of getting to know each other now,
and Mrs. Knightsbridge’s prophecy will come true.

She just had to stick it out that long, and things would

fall into place. She hoped.

i

“There you are, lad.” His Grace’s voice floated from the

corner of the room by the window.

“My apologies, Your Grace. I am here to assist you.”

Avery stood with back straight against the wall, awaiting

his orders. Though he’d been told time and again to relax

in the duke’s presence, he could not. In his experience,

most so- called gentlemen were not to be trusted. Even

though His Grace had given him no cause for alarm, his

instincts would not give over.

The duke rose from his seat by the window, where he’d

been looking out across the early dawn covered Town.

Avery didn’t take more than a single glance out of the pane.

Something was not right. His spine prickled with warning.

“We shall ride out in two days time. The Houndstooth

tourney has been arranged.” His Grace sank into the

bedclothes, an eager smile on his face. “I’m told that you

shall be the man to beat, Russell.”

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Avery’s heart sank. He’d halfway hoped that the

duke would refuse to allow him to fight. He should

have known better. His Grace had discovered him in

the mills, and though he’d been kind enough to give

Avery a respectable position, he’d never made a secret

of his continued support of the Fancy, those members

of the ton who supported boxing. The other members

would not take kindly to one of their favorites missing

the famous Houndstooth, especially if Prachett was

trumpeting about his supposed attendance.

“Very well, Your Grace.” Avery bowed low and

turned to leave.

“Russell.”

Avery ground to an immediate halt. Turning, he

watched as the duke’s smile faded. “Yes, Your Grace?”

The nobleman closed his eyes, a picture of long- suffering.

“The dowager duchess is hosting a rout tomorrow evening,

and she has need of more staff. See to it that Mrs. Harper

provides her with everything she requires.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Avery stood still as the duke yawned.

“You may take yourself off, Russell, and begin prepa-

rations for our journey. I’ll ring if I have need of you.”

The duke smiled at him, almost a gentle, fatherly

expression, and waved in dismissal. Avery left the room

with a mixture of relief and foreboding. The next

tourney was set. He must fight once more.

The dressing room carpet was turned up at the

corners, and Leah was nowhere to be seen. Filling his

chest with air, he tipped his head back and stared at the