“I only want you to know that my father was not drunk when he arrived home. He was in a business meeting, and someone else must have been drinking,” Bridget claimed.
“Your father?” Nicholas asked. “Is he here? I don’t remember seeing him.”
“He—” Bridget stopped herself when she realized what he was doing.
“There is so much to keep track of and think about that it is hard to keep track of anything else.”
“Yes,” Bridget agreed.
Her mask slipped for a moment, and she looked grateful to the Duke for what he was doing. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled a little brighter before they dulled again, and she looked down at the ground.
Nicholas wanted to take her in his arms again and tell her everything would be fine, but he knew that would only make things worse.
Instead, he said, “This is a stressful time for everyone. You are there for your sister, and I am here for my brother. If any problems arise, I am good at dealing with people. Say the word, and I will take care of them for you.”
Bridget looked up at him, and the fear was back in her eyes.
“I mean, if a vagrant should walk in and try to make trouble,” the Duke clarified. “These large, empty houses are easy pickings. If someone enters the house, and it is better they are not there, then you only have to give the word, and they will be gone, alright?”
Bridget nodded. “I prefer you when you are being annoying. This feels like you are trying to make me one of your conquests by being nice to me.”
Nicholas burst out laughing, and when he realized he was being too loud so early in the morning, he quieted down.
“I will only make you one of my conquests if you wish to be one,” he teased.
“I do not,” Bridget huffed.
“Then it will not happen,” the Duke said, holding his hand out.
Bridget was tentative, but she took his hand and shook it gently.
The Duke brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it.
Bridget wanted to pull her hand back, but there was nothing untoward about his behavior, and she did not want to antagonize him.
“I am sure all of this works on other women, but it will not work on me,” Bridget warned him.
“And what works on you, Lady Bridget?” the Duke asked, smiling.
“I much prefer some intelligent conversation to having my hands kissed or being hugged. I am immune to your charms.”
“Oh, please don’t say that, Lady Bridget. You’ll only make me want to try harder. I do love a challenge,” the Duke said. “Perhaps I will discuss Swift and Defoe with you or Fielding and Blake. You must appreciate the works of Mary Astell.”
Bridget looked shocked. “How do you know about Mary Astell?”
“I know about a lot of things,” Nicholas replied.
“Yes, well, I shall be happy to discuss any of them with you at the dining table. I am very interested in what you have to say about them.”
“That is the first step,” Nicholas teased. “Find some common ground, and it can open the door to romance.”
Bridget shook her head. “You are an infuriating man. You might have me interested, but you have done nothing to charm me. If I were not bound to this estate, I would leave and never see you again.”
“Why do you think I say such things? I don’t have the chance with anyone else. It is fun to verbally spar with you, knowing that you can’t escape my clutches.”
“That is exactly what I am about to do,” Bridget told him. “If you will excuse me, I must go for my morning ride.”
“Where are you headed?” Nicholas asked.
