My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(27)

His mouth quirked for a moment. “Philip was excused from most of it.”

Ah—-those were lessons for the heir. Sophie kept her gaze on the sketch, wondering if Philip had gone off to the lake while his older brother was kept behind to learn crop management. “He must have been required to do something.”

“A bit of ledger keeping. We both learned to drive at Alwyn House. Whenever we were here, my mother filled the house with guests, and we were required to participate in any events she held. She finds the country dull and quiet.” He paused. “My father liked it here.”

“Is that why you like it?”

He studied the portrait of Philip. “I like it for the same reasons he did,” he said at last.

There was something in his tone that warned against further discussion of that topic. “It’s an excellent drawing,” she told him. “You’re quite talented.”

His expression grew remote. “Thank you, but it was many years ago.”

“I’m sure you’ve not forgotten how entirely.” She smiled teasingly as she said it, but his face didn’t change. Sophie knew when to cut line; she changed the subject. “Shall we go on?” Thus far she hadn’t seen any reason he might prefer this house, unless his other properties were mausoleums. Even though Alwyn House was luxurious and beautiful, the tour so far had only made her miss her own cozy home in London. She had her father’s pocket watch and her mother’s hair combs there, reminders of happier times that made her smile.

The duke merely bowed his head and opened the door. He took her through the formal dining room, glorious in red damask, with three crystal chandeliers and an enormous painting of the wedding at Cana. “My mother expanded it,” he said as Sophie exclaimed over the size of the room in a country house. “She entertained a great deal.”

Because she found this beautiful house dull and quiet. Sophie suspected Philip took after his mother; he also was ever in search of society and gaiety, while the duke seemed far more restrained.

She reconsidered that thought when they reached the library. Despite the rain and general gloom of the day, the library was glorious. The room was a large oval, with walls of celery green and white woodwork. A pair of marble columns at either end of the room set off the shelves of books that filled both rounded ends of the oval. Last night it had been too dark, and she’d been too irate, to take it in, but today—-

“How beautiful,” she burst out. “And I didn’t notice any of it last night!”

The duke walked to the tall windows and looked out. “Why is that, I wonder?”

“Well, you were being terribly vexing,” she replied absently, wandering about the room in awe. “I was concentrating very hard on keeping my temper.”

“Oh?” He leaned one shoulder against the shutter and watched her. “What did you want to say that you didn’t?”

She glanced at him, startled. Thanks to the numerous windows in here, the light was better. His gaze was just as clear and focused as the night before, but somehow less piercing. The acid edge of scorn was gone, and it made her unfortunately aware again of how attractive he was.

No. Giles Carter was attractive, with his square jaw and the distinguished touches of gray at his temples. The Duke of Ware was magnificent. If she hadn’t landed against him in the Blue Room and felt for herself how alive and real he was, she would have thought him an artist’s creation of marble, standing there in the watery light in his perfectly tailored clothing and expensive boots and golden hair that had just enough wave to make him imperfect.

And here she stood in the borrowed dress of a housemaid who’d been sacked. She drew a deep breath and felt the sturdy fabric rasp against her skin, reminding her that she was only a few steps above that housemaid—-an immaterial difference to a man like the duke.

“I wanted to tell you to bugger off,” she said lightly.

The duke’s eyebrows shot up, as if no one in the world had ever told him to bugger off. “Did you really?”

Sophie laughed, resuming her tour of the library. A glass case held an array of miniatures, and she bent down to have a closer look. “I certainly did. How dare you call me a hardened gamester and say you recognized what kind of woman I am? You know nothing about me.”

Ware cleared his throat. “I know a little.”

Still bent over the case of miniatures, she flipped one hand. “You know a very little—-mostly that I cannot resist an enormous wager with someone who seems determined to lose to me.”

“That is significant.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged, “but by no means the sum of my character.” She glanced up with a mischievous smile. “I daresay the same could be said about Philip.”

“Not to his credit.” The duke folded his arms. “How did you meet my brother?”

“At Somerset House.” Sophie savored his start of surprise. “The Royal Academy exhibition. Are you astonished I would attend such an event?”

“Of course not.”

“You are.” She arched her brows in teasing. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. We already agreed you know nothing about me.”

“What I thought,” he said gravely, “was how incredible it was for Philip to attend. I freely admit I do not know you, but I am well acquainted with my brother, and the Royal Academy is one place I never would have guessed to find him.”