An Ideal Duchess Read Online Free PDF Page B

that you have?” Bim shone his torch over the object in her hand.
                  “I knew I recognized the work of Autissier,” She said, ignoring his rebuke and wiping at the painting with her handkerchief. “It’s terribly dirty, but should fetch a decent price on the market.”
                  “Is money all you ruddy Americans think about?” Bron growled, recognizing her foolhardiness as his source of irritation.
                  She looked at him, obviously surprised by the vehemence of his tone. Her mouth curved to form a scornful smile.
                  “Sometimes, I think about all of the nice things I can buy with money—clothes, books, automobiles, houses, even dukes.”
    He flinched.
                  “There should be one nearby, isn’t there?” She continued snidely. “I hear he’s very poor, and since I’m very rich, we should rub along well, shouldn’t we?”
                  Bim whistled in the ensuing silence. “She went for the jugular, my dear duke.”
                  “What?” She swung her torch light at Bim and then into his face. “You don’t mean to tell me he is a duke?”
                  “I’m afraid, so Miss Vandewater.” Bim placed the torch light beneath his face again and smirked.
                  “Oh,” She lowered her torch light from his face. “ Ohh .”
                  “There is no need to change your attitude towards me,” Bron said stiffly. “You’ve already made your opinion quite well known.”
     
    *           *          *
     
                  Amanda was thankful for the darkness that covered the awkward silence in the aftermath of her incredibly rude blunder. She set the miniature on the small round table and cleared her throat.
                  “I ought to get home before my parents begin to worry about my whereabouts.”
                  “Are you so anxious to escape us?” Mr. Challoner swung his torchlight in her direction.
                  She laughed. “We hardly know one another, and I’ve begun to realize it isn’t quite proper of me to be here alone with two strange gentlemen.”
                  “I advise you wait out the storm,” The Duke of Malvern said flatly. “How did you come here?”
                  “My father’s motor,” She flushed at the thought. “He doesn’t know I’ve taken it.”
                  “What make?” Mr. Challoner asked excitedly.
                  “Trust you to focus on the more trivial details, Bim,” The duke said, a hint of humor restored in his voice.
                  She braved a peek at the duke using the torchlight, and she flushed again at his steady, unblinking regard. It was safer to focus the light on Mr. Challoner, who looked amusedly between them.
                  “A Packard,” She said to distract Mr. Challoner from whatever he thought. “The Model F with the rear entrance.”
                  “Damn. I wish I could have a look at it,” Mr. Challoner sighed. “But I supposed that in this wretched weather…”
                  “You could always call on my family—”
                  “At Foxcote.”
                  “Yes, how did you know?”
    “It is in my interests to pay attention to my neighbors, particularly when one is as delightful as yourself.” Mr. Challoner said lightly. “Shall we have our tea in the drawing room?”
                  “It’s rather late for tea, isn’t it?”
                  “Not in this household,” The duke said dryly. “I imagine your housemaids are handling this loss of power with unnatural aplomb.”
                  “Employment at Challoner House requires servants of strong fortitude and stalwartness,”