When Leah turned to see who had spoken, she dropped the Dresden shepherdess she’d been pretending to dust. The resulting clatter brought everyone’s eyes to her, but she was still staring at the man who stood at the bottom of the staircase.
Holy shit, it was the duke. The duke’s name was Wymond. How could such a beautiful man have such a dorky name? It was hard to tell which had shocked her more: the fact that his name was so unfortunate, or the fact that she’d called him a boy. He had to be pushing sixty.
She forgot about her supposed love’s unfortunate name when the dowager rounded the bottom stair and glared at her.
“You stupid, thoughtless chit,” the lady snarled, her formerly regal face something that looked more like Emperor Palpatine about to shoot lightning bolts into Leah’s body. “You shall regret that.”
Oh holy crap.
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Thirteen
The clatter of porcelain on wood slammed a hush over the entry hall, servants and masters alike. Miss Ramsey winced and righted the figurine she’d dropped, but the damage was already done. Avery’s anxious fingers crushed the fabric of the greatcoat in his arms as if he could crush the mounting tension in the room. If only it were that easy.
How could she be so careless? He’d thought she understood the importance of staying unnoticed in front of the dowager.
Stealing a glimpse of Her Grace’s face, Avery stopped breathing. The dowager’s papery cheeks were flushed, her brows lowered, and her knuckles white on the banister. This did not bode well.
She descended the last stairs and rounded the corner toward Miss Ramsey with pure murder in her bearing.
Avery didn’t know what she’d do, but he knew it would not be pleasant. He had to act— and swiftly if Miss Ramsey were to outlast the encounter.
With only a small amount of regret, he extended his leg toward a passing Tunstall footman. With his burden GeekGirlsDontDateDukes.indd 125
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of gentlemen’s coats and hats, the poor soul never had a chance to avoid the obstacle. With a surprised squawk, he went flying and launched his burden directly at the duke and the dowager.
Chaos reigned.
A dark blue greatcoat settled over the dowager’s head like a net, trapping her beneath it. Frantic cries came from beneath the billowing fabric as she fought to free herself.
A cane struck His Grace’s nose before clattering to the floor. The nobleman clapped a hand to his face and screwed his eyes shut in discomfort. Maids and footmen, Avery included, rushed to assist the beleaguered pair.
Miss Ramsey, Avery was relieved to note, disappeared into the sitting room during the confusion. At least the chit had the good sense to run.
“Who is responsible for this?” The dowager’s voice echoed in the hallway once her maids had freed her from the predicament. “I demand that you speak up at once!”
“Your Grace, my apologies,” the poor footman stuttered. He was pale as fine bone china. “’Twas an accident, I stumbled…”
The dowager’s rage was thankfully curtailed by the duke’s interruption.
“Mother, your guests are waiting.” He sniffed, pinching the bridge of his injured nose. “Come, let us go in.” He dropped his hand and offered his arm to her.
With a scornful look at the hapless assembly of servants, and an especially dark glare toward the unfortunate footman, the dowager allowed her son to escort her into the sitting room.
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thing that had been. Despite his careful tutelage, Miss
Ramsey seemed determined to worry him senseless.
A quick glimpse at the sitting room reminded him that the evening had only just begun, and that his self-appointed charge would have many more opportunities to offend tonnish society. With a long-suffering sigh, he ducked inside the sitting room door. If he were lucky, perhaps another rescue would be unnecessary.
He tried not to imagine the next scrape she’d find herself in.
Taking up a position opposite another footman, he stood like a soldier at his post, hands clasped behind his back, waiting to be called on. Scanning the room, he exhaled a calming breath when he caught sight of Miss Ramsey, who was, for once, exactly where she should be.
She, along with four other maids, was attending to the spread of scones, biscuits, jams, and assorted other refreshments on a long side table. Appearing to take her cue from the well-trained Tunstall maids, Miss Ramsey’s movements were slow and methodical as she set a new pot of tea on the end of the table. She nodded to Harold, another footman, as he fetched a sherry for a guest.
Avery took heart at the sight, stiffening his spine against the sitting room wall. She’d avoided certain disaster already today. Surely she could manage to stay out of trouble now?