The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(8)

The earl was staring at the corner, his eyes glazed, as if he’d fallen into a trance.

“My lord?” she prompted.

He shook his head and blinked. “Yes, vitally important. Shall we discuss the candidates?”

Jo had the sense he’d gotten lost in his own memories. Were they sad like hers or something else entirely? She doubted she’d ever find out. “I liked the last one, Mrs. Poole.”

He leaned forward in his chair and propped his elbow on his desk. His shirt shifted, allowing a greater exposure of flesh. Jo vowed to ignore it. “What did you like about her?” he asked.

“She—” The word came out scratchy so Jo coughed delicately. “She was the most knowledgeable, I think, having reared her own children.”

“You think that carries more weight than the other two who’ve several decades of employment in exemplary households between them?”

“I do. Mrs. Poole has a warmth that’s important for Evie, I think.” Jo could see that Evie craved a female connection. “She misses her old nurse a great deal, doesn’t she?”

Jo had noticed that the earl had mentioned the woman several times during the interviews. He’d made comments about their former nurse doing something and then asked the candidate if she could do the same, such as sing. Apparently, Evie liked to be sung to. Mrs. Poole had promptly rewarded them with a lullaby delivered in a soft, pleasant tone.

“Yes, she does.” He pulled his coat off and set it on the edge of his desk. As soon as he did it, his gaze darted to hers. “This is also unseemly, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Oh, but he looked divine, the sleeves of his shirt billowing out from the armholes of his dark blue waistcoat. “You’re not going to remove anything else, are you?”

He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. “Perhaps. But I’ll try not to. I do apologize, but I… It’s necessary.”

Because he felt itchy. She wondered how he was going to sit through a session in the House of Lords. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. For all she knew, they sat around in shirtsleeves. “Which candidate did you prefer?”

“They were all qualified. The first one, Miss Chambers, certainly possessed the best recommendations.”

She’d been Jo’s least favorite. Approximately fifty, with dark, knowing eyes, she’d given Jo the sense that she saw everything. And judged. “Yes, but… Ugh.”

Knighton’s eyes widened the slightest bit. Then he let out a sharp laugh. “Ugh?”

Jo felt heat rise up her neck but held his gaze. “She seemed a bit…unctuous.”

“That’s an interesting description. She did have an air of superiority about her, and for that reason, I agree with your choice of Mrs. Poole.”

“You do?” Jo was relieved. “I think she’ll be an excellent addition to your household. She meets all your requirements and she’s charming. Most importantly, she’s someone Evie could love.” Jo added the last softly, her throat tightening as she thought of the children she’d never have. Perhaps she ought to consider a career as a nurse or a governess.

“I think she’ll be the most flexible and understanding of our peccadilloes.”

“You’re referring to your distaste for cravats, I presume. But you used a plural. Are there more…peccadilloes?”

“Yes, the cravats and too much clothing in general. I’m afraid I walk about the house like this most of the time. Some of the current staff clearly do not approve. Evie likes to run around barefoot, though she does it less here since it’s not as warm as at home.” He pushed his hand through his hair, making the brown locks stand practically on end. It was a bit long anyway, and tousled, it gave him a wild, reckless look, especially in his current state of undress. “I have to stop thinking of that as home,” he muttered.

“I can’t imagine how difficult a transition this must be.”

His mouth ticked up in a brief, wry smile. “It was a shock.”

Jo tried not to think of how shocking this would be if anyone saw them. Wait, would it be? She was a widow. Wasn’t she allowed certain behaviors an unmarried woman wasn’t? Not that it mattered since there was absolutely no reason to preserve her reputation. Except as it pertained to her sister. She’d never want to bring scandal to Nora or her family. Especially not after the scandal Nora had already endured as a young debutante during her second Season.

Forcing herself to recall their conversation and stop woolgathering about the condition of his hair and how attractive it made him look, Jo looked at the window instead of at him. “Does that mean you’re going to hire Mrs. Poole?”

“Yes. You’re right that Evie needs someone who will be patient and understand that her life has been upended.” He frowned slightly. “Mrs. Poole is the only one who asked how Evie was faring.”

That was true. She’d also seemed unconcerned about Evie’s eating habits, something Lord Knighton had discussed with each of them. She was particular about her food, and while the other two candidates had vowed to ensure she overcame that problem, Mrs. Poole had chuckled and said that all children were particular about one thing or another. Yes, there were peccadilloes plural.

He folded his hands together on the desktop. “I suppose that concludes our business, then.”