Seducing Miss Lockwood. Helen Dickson

      Mrs Reed, stout and full bosomed and holding a long-handled spoon, looked up and studied the new arrival from head to foot. ‘You must be Miss Lockwood.’

      ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Juliet replied quickly, awkward at her intrusion.

      ‘You’re not from these parts?’ she said, as though Juliet had professed herself to be an alien from a place beyond the reach of civilisation.

      ‘No, I am not.’

      ‘And you’re feeling better now, are you?’

      ‘Yes, much better, thank you.’

      ‘Good.’

      ‘You are Mrs Reed?’

      ‘I am. I’m the cook for his Grace—have been for thirty years.’

      ‘Then I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Reed,’ Juliet said, already realising that it would need a delicate touch to deal with the ticklish task of keeping on the right side of the cook. ‘It is you I have to thank for the excellent food Dolly was so kind to bring to my room. I wonder if I could have some coffee—and perhaps some toast sent in to the library? I’m anxious to see where I’m to work.’

      Mrs Reed looked none too pleased at having one of the maids taken off their work to wait on the new girl, which Dolly had been doing too much of late, but she nodded all the same. ‘I’ll prepare a tray and have Dolly bring it to you, but in future I’d appreciate it if you fetched it yourself. They’ve enough to do without running back and forth to the library.’

      The tone was courteous, but the dismissal clear.

      Juliet smiled sweetly. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Reed.’ Mrs Reed sniffed as though to say and so she should be. ‘In future I will do that.’ She had no choice but to withdraw.

      Sir John’s library was impressive, but it could not compare with what she saw when she entered the library at Lansdowne House. Instantly she felt the room’s peace and tranquillity. It was a square high room and smelled of beeswax and old leather, a wonderful smell she savoured. A globe of the world stood in one corner, alongside a glass display case containing a selection of artefacts and curiosities, and four beautiful miniature water colours by an artist she did not recognise. There was a richly carved huge round table in the centre and comfortable leather chairs.

      The room was awash with books on shelves from floor to ceiling, huge tomes, some behind glass for preservation, and journals and pamphlets. She ran her eyes along each shelf in turn, reading the names on the polished spines, letting her fingers trail over the leather bindings, pausing now and then when a particular volume caught her interest. Some were dog eared and in need of attention.

      There was a collection of religious texts, a section devoted to English literature, and in the furthest corner of the library was an alcove dedicated to books on history. She stared in awe at the priceless artefacts and the glorious collection of paintings in ornate frames, and she was sure that was a Rubens over the fireplace.

      Dolly brought the tray with her coffee, a small jug of frothy milk and a bowl of white sugar cubes. She placed it on the table. ‘Shall I pour it, miss?’

      ‘No, thank you, Dolly. I can manage.’

      ‘Very good, miss—and don’t mind Cook. Her bark’s worse than her bite, as they say. She meant no harm—in fact, she’s sent you some of her special biscuits to have with your coffee, as well as the toast.’

      ‘I can see that,’ Juliet said, somewhat heartened by the cook’s unexpected kindness. ‘They look delicious. Please thank her for me, will you, Dolly?’

      ‘I will, miss. And don’t be put off by Pearce either. He might look as though he’s come out of the laundry over-starched, but he’s an old softy at heart.’

      Juliet laughed. ‘Thank you, Dolly. I’ll remember that. And—and his Grace?’ she ventured tentatively.

      Walking to the door, Dolly turned and looked at her with a grimace. ‘His Grace is better for knowing, miss. You’ll get the measure of him soon enough.’

       Chapter Two

      When Dolly had left, selecting a book at random Juliet took it to the table and opened the hard-back covers, releasing the scent of dust and old papers and antiquity. She lifted the lid on the pot of steaming coffee, releasing the delicious aroma, and settled down to begin her work.

      Thirty minutes later Dominic paused in the doorway. Miss Lockwood hadn’t heard him enter and he paused for a moment to look at her, pleasantly surprised. She was wearing a plain grey dress, its only relief a small white linen collar and cuffs.

      Sensing she was not alone, Juliet reluctantly pulled herself away from what she was reading and drew herself upright. Turning, she met the Duke’s hard, discerning stare. She noticed how he had a habit of staring right at a person with an unwavering gaze that seemed to blot out everything else. An inexplicable, lazy smile swept over his face as he surveyed her from head to toe, and Juliet had the staggering and impossible impression that he actually liked what he saw.

      She started to lower her gaze, then forced herself to return his appraisal with a measuring look of her own. Lounging in the doorway in his snug, buff-coloured breeches and polished brown knee boots and tan jacket, a strong, ruthless figure who made the room seem much smaller, he looked incredibly striking.

      ‘Good morning, your Grace,’ she greeted brusquely.

      ‘Good morning, Miss Lockwood. You may address me as Lord Lansdowne. I always consider your Grace as being too formal.’

      ‘Very well. I hope you don’t mind me coming to the library, but I wanted to see where I would be working.’

      ‘Why should I mind?’ he replied, sauntering towards her. ‘It shows you are keen to get on with the project. I like that. It is unfortunate your first few days have been blighted by your illness,’ he said lightly. ‘I am also sorry that your first impressions cannot have been favourable, but no matter. You are here now.’

      Juliet watched him, noting that the man who strode towards her bore little resemblance to the relaxed man she had seen on the night of her arrival and again on the terrace.

      Leaning over, he scanned the notes she had made, his face impassive. ‘I see you’ve started already,’ he comented, noticing the quill in the inkwell and the ink staining her fingers.

      ‘I’ve just been familiarising myself with where I am to work and making some notes.’

      He nodded. Her reply made no apparent impression on him and he raised his eyes and levelled his penetrating gaze on her, swiftly changing the subject. ‘I must apologise for my friends when you arrived. They were out of hand.’

      ‘Please do not think you have to apologise for their behaviour to me. If your friends choose to behave like that, then that is their affair.’

      ‘Indeed, but their manners were quite appalling.’

      ‘I quite agree. I am sure they’re all fine, honourable gentlemen—when they’re not in their cups, but it is not gentlemanly behaviour to make fun of defenceless females.’

      Dominic cocked a sleek black brow and smiled. ‘Oh, I think you are more than capable of defending yourself, Miss Lockwood.’

      She lifted her chin and gazed squarely at him. ‘Lord Lansdowne.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘There is one thing I would like to say before I begin working for you.’

      ‘Really! And what is that, Miss Lockwood?’

      ‘I have not come here to provide some kind of entertainment for your friends. I am here to work.’

      ‘I see you speak your mind.’

      ‘That is my way. In doing so it is not my intention to give offence, but I think it is best if we know