The Way to a Duke's Heart: The Truth About the Duke by Caroline Linden Page A

Most gentlemen cannot bring themselves to do it. I am certain you shall see her thaw immeasurably.”
    “May we put it to a test?” he asked, pressing his advantage. “May I call upon you tomorrow morning?”
    Delight fairly bubbled out of her. “We would be honored, sir!”
    Charlie smiled. “The honor would be mine, madam.” He didn’t want to act too quickly. Gerard would have already been on his horse, pistols loaded, heading for Mells to confront Scott over the blackmail letters, but somehow Charlie felt that would be the wrong approach. He wanted to know more about the man, and perhaps, if he played his hand right, Mrs. Neville would tell him. He also wanted to know more about her, for a variety of reasons. She confounded him. She intrigued him. And blast it all, he did find her attractive. Again he hoped she had nothing to do with the blackmail, because if she did . . .
    There would be no reason to heed his manners regarding her.
    B y the time Eugenie returned to the inn, still blushing pink with pleasure, Tessa’s temper had calmed. She had told herself she was being silly and rash as she stormed up and down Frome’s crooked streets. There must be a reason for Lord Gresham’s interest, even if it was a foolish reason like boredom. It was surprising to hear him declare he had come to see Mr. Scott, when Mr. Scott hadn’t mentioned him; the man was very fond of mentioning his well-connected investors at every opportunity. Surely the Earl of Gresham would have rated at least a passing word, but perhaps his interest was new.
    She had no idea what had brought him to Frome and whatever it was about her or Eugenie that had caught his eye, but she grudgingly admitted she was making a mess of things with her behavior. She had begun badly by calling him indolent. Was it better now to apologize, or to pretend it never happened? If only he wouldn’t look at her with those laughing black eyes of his. It was too much like Richard had once looked at her, before he made a complete fool of her and she ruined her life by rashly retaliating. Just as she was doing now, to her vexation. Even if Lord Gresham had some similar design upon her—and she couldn’t think of any reason why he would—she was forewarned this time, and had no intention of making the same mistake twice.
    So from now on she would treat the earl, whenever they might meet again, with cool propriety and perfect manners. If he wished to escort Eugenie about town, she would not object. If he wished to call on them, she would sit quietly in the corner during his visit. If he decided to tease her again, she would simply smile and ignore it. By being prickly she was only throwing out a challenge, and he, being an idle rake and scoundrel, was naturally unable to resist needling her in turn. It was the only logical answer she could think of.
    After making this resolution, she pushed the earl from her mind and sat down to write her letters. William had asked for an account of every part of the canal plan, and Tessa had dragged Eugenie out to walk along the proposed junction in Frome, where the construction was already in progress. Then Eugenie felt one of her headaches coming on, so Tessa stepped into an apothecary shop to buy some headache powder, only to emerge to find that Lord Gresham had somehow appeared in Frome, every bit as unsettling as he’d been in Bath.
    No—she was falling into the same trap. She pushed the enigmatic earl from her thoughts and wrote only of the canal to William, finishing just as Eugenie let herself in. Tessa put down her pen and looked up with a smile, determined not to bedevil the older woman anymore. But her companion surprised her.
    “Teresa Neville,” said Eugenie sternly, “where are your manners? Your mother would be horrified by the way you have treated Lord Gresham.”
    Tessa’s mouth dropped open. “Eugenie!”
    “Lord Gresham has been a perfect gentleman, and you have been abrupt and cold to him,” her companion