The Duke in Disguise by Gayle Callen Page B

could think of a tactful question, the duke began to speak.

"I'm supposed to sit for my new portrait, but I just can't seem to find the time." He glanced back at the one on the wall with a thoughtful look. "This one will do just fine for now. Have you had a portrait done?"

Stephen shook his head. "Nurse says I can't sit still long enough. Maybe I can have mine done with you!"

"Perhaps" was the duke's only answer.

At that moment, a new light appeared at the far end of the gallery.

"It's not a ghost, Miss Shelby," Stephen said. "It's Nurse Weston."

It wasn't until the woman came closer that Meriel could see that Stephen was right.

"And how did you know she would come?" Meriel asked him suspiciously.

"I knew Father would join us. He likes your lessons. And those people who came during dinner didn't seem like any fun at all."

Meriel couldn't even look at the duke, who was being discussed as if he wasn't there. But he said nothing, just watched in amusement.

"Good night, Miss Shelby!" the little boy said as he ran to his nurse. "Good night, Father!"

Meriel caught the disapproving expression that the nurse tried to hide.

"Wait, Nurse Weston," Meriel called. "I'll join you." She certainly didn't want the other servants to think that she looked for ways to be alone with the duke.

She turned to wish the duke a good night, but he said, "I'm not finished with our conversation, Miss Shelby. How else will you discover more details to teach my son about his family history?"

She watched Nurse Weston and Stephen walk away down the long corridor, feeling very alone. When they were finally out of sight, she slowly turned and looked up at the duke. There was something very intimate about being in a dark place at night with a man. Perhaps because she'd usually had a chaperone, she'd had no idea how safe they made her feel.

She was so very aware of him looking down at her. The connection between them seemed to pulse and shimmer with a life of its own, drawing her forward though she was unwilling.

"Your Grace, this is highly inappropriate," she said firmly. She might be risking her position, but she could not continue to allow the duke to take such liberties with her.

He raised a black eyebrow. "It is inappropriate to make sure that you teach my son correctly?"

"It is inappropriate for you to keep maneuvering to be alone with me. And you should never have asked me to join your guests tonight."

"But you're not a servant, Miss Shelby. I assumed you wished to be treated as one of the family."

She took a step away from him. "That is kind of you, Your Grace, but your methods are…unusual."

"Then I will refrain from being unusual."

But he wasn't leaving, and she didn't know how to insist on her own retreat. So instead she looked at the painting of him.

"Is there something I should know about your portrait, Your Grace?"

    Chapter 6
    R ichard watched how the shadows highlighted the beautiful curves of Meriel's face as the lamp gleamed across her pale skin. Her black dress made her vivid hair stand out like gold hidden in a cave. It was so easy just to look at her, to forget about his worries and bask in the pleasure of her.

But she was obviously uncomfortable being alone with him. If he continued to stare at her, he knew she would flee. And he didn't want her to go. Only when he was with her did the loneliness inspired by this old house recede. He didn't know what it said about him that a strange young woman, suspicious of him, could somehow bring him a moment's peace.

He forced himself to look at the portrait of his brother, Cecil, which had been painted eighteen years ago. What could he tell her about it, except that as a child, he'd stood nearby and watched it being painted day after day?

"The setting was in the conservatory," he began slowly.

She looked up at the portrait in surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed that, Your Grace."

"The artist captured the sun well, but at the time, I was not very cooperative. I was seven, and