Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (9 page)

He smothered the smile her odd words brought to his

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face. “I have no doubt that you are.” He turned to leave

the room.

“Hey, where are you going?”

His feet stilled, and he looked back at her. She stood

tall, but uncertainty still shadowed her eyes.

“I missed the evening meal. I had intended to find food.”

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” She turned back to her

washbasin, and he moved to leave the room but stopped

when she spoke again. Her voice was soft, uncertain.

“You could eat in here if you wanted. I’ve got to

finish these pots before I go to bed, and it wouldn’t be

so lonely if you were in here. You don’t have to talk

to me or anything, if you don’t want to. Just be here, if

you wanted to, that is.” She looked over her shoulder at

him, and her wide, anxious eyes softened something in

his chest.

“As you wish,” he said, and turned to leave the room.

i

Leah stared down into the dishwater, wishing it were

physically possible to kick herself in the ass. What a

completely stupid way to react to an itty- bitty spider!

Well, he had been pretty sizeable
, she argued with herself.

And for Avery to have seen her like that, completely

overcome with panic over something so trivial? He

must think she was a total wuss. But she wasn’t. She

muscled the largest pot over to the basin, just to remind

herself she was tough. She grabbed the brush and started

scrubbing, punctuating each mental point with another

stroke of the coarse bristles. She was a
strong
, independent woman. She’d
built
sets for the community theatre, all by herself. She’d
made
her own iPhone app. She’d
beat
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Skyrim
within a
month
of its release. But, she thought as she dropped the scrub brush down into the basin, at the

sight of an eight- legged bug, she was a complete ninny.

A brainless, spineless lump of humanity.

But she kept her head up and kept moving. She hadn’t

gotten this far in life by giving up. Well, not that she’d

gotten too far, honestly. But she was a self- sufficient

adult, and that counted for something, right?

“The scullery maid should be doing this washing.”

Avery’s voice came from behind her. A scraping of wood

against the stone floor accompanied his voice. “Why

were you pressed into this duty?”

Redoubling her scrubbing efforts, Leah looked down

into the pot instead of back at Avery. She couldn’t tell

him it was because she’d been late for supper. His
I- told-you- so
’s had to be more irritating than the usual. “Mrs.

Harper said that the scullery maids were on vacation, or

holiday, whatever.”

“Are you still expected to do the duties of under-

housemaid in the morning?”

She nodded and frowned down at a stubborn bit of

burnt- on food. No matter how she scrubbed, it clung to

the bottom of the pot like Uncle Scrooge with his last

nickel. “Stubborn piece of shit,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” Avery’s voice was just behind

her head.

Startled, she dropped the brush in to the washbasin. The

resulting splash soaked the chest of her apron and dress. She staggered backward, straight into the surprised valet.

He sprang away as if burned, and she stumbled to

catch herself before she fell on her ass. Crap, she spent a

lot of time not being graceful in front of him.

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Good thing he wasn’t her destined true love. He’d

have run away screaming by now if he was.

“Damn it,” she cursed, wiping at her front. “I’m

sorry. I’m not normally such a klutz.” She looked up at

him, confusion and helplessness leaking out of her ears.

“It’s just late, and it’s been a really long day, and I…”

“Hush,” he interrupted her. The corner of his mouth

twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but he didn’t.

Good thing too. She’d have had to belt the shit out of

him or burst into tears. “Sit just there, by the fire. It will dry your clothing. Finish that bread and cheese if you’ve

a mind to.”

He unbuttoned his cuffs and began methodically rolling

the fabric up his muscled forearms. Leah swallowed hard

at the purely innocent sight. Damn, the man had some

nice arms, even though they bore some purpling bruises.

Corded with muscle, they flexed with the simplest move-

ments. Did valets do that much heavy lifting?

“You’re not going to wash the dishes for me. It’s not

your job,” she protested, but he shook his head.

“It is of no consequence. We’ll have them done in a

trice, and you can find your bed afterward.”

“Oh gosh,” Leah said, dropping her forehead to the

table in front of her with a moan. “I forgot I’ve got to be

up at the ass crack of dawn in the morning.”

Avery barked a laugh, nearly scaring the shit out of her.

“What did you say?”

“The ass crack of dawn,” Leah said, laughing herself at

Avery’s shocked expression. “It’s my somewhat colorful

description for getting up too damn early.”

He cleared his throat, smothered his smile with a

more neutral expression, and continued scrubbing the

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next- to- last pot. “As amusing as your description is, I’d

suggest you not use it around the other servants. They

should probably not enjoy it as much as I.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Leah said, smiling

down at the cheese sandwich she was making. A side-

ways glimpse at the valet revealed that he was hard at

work removing grime from what looked like a witch’s

cauldron. And it wasn’t even his job; he just wanted to

help her.

“Thank you for helping me.” Her words came out

without thought, but she was glad they had.

He didn’t turn, but she thought his shoulders relaxed

slightly. She popped a crust of bread into her mouth,

chewing thoughtfully before speaking again. “So how

did you end up here? Always wanted to be a valet?”

He paused in his scrubbing to laugh. “Not as such,

no.” The sound of bristles on metal resumed. “I had

some little experience in grand houses before this one.

My former employment rendered me unfit for service to

most. But His Grace took a liking to me, so here I am.”

Leah sat back against the wooden slats. “So what did

you do before that made you ‘unfit’ to most?” She made

air quotes, even though his back was turned.

“I worked with my hands.”

The answer was cryptic, but his tone was even more

so. Leah pursed her lips. “Like, making things?”

His laugh this time was bitter. “No, not at all.” He

didn’t give her a chance to ask a follow- up. “It is of

no consequence. What is your occupation in the land

behind the wardrobe?”

Leah smiled. “That makes it sound like I lived in

Narnia, which would have been awesome. But no. I’m

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an elementary school drama teacher.” She pinched off

another bite of bread. “I’ve got a great group of kids, and

I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I mean, who else

gets to play pretend for their nine- to- five?”

Water splashed as Avery emptied the pot. His muscles

strained against the damp cotton of his sleeves as he lifted

the large iron thing. “I am sure that the children enjoy

their lessons with such a lovely teacher.”

Leah’s heart thudded at the compliment, but Avery

didn’t turn. He merely wiped the pot down with a rag

and continued washing up. She took a bite of the sand-

wich he’d given her, just because she didn’t know what

else to say. It would have been so much easier if Avery

could be the duke. But even though he’d been sweet and

had just called her lovely, he wasn’t exactly coming on

to her. She’d spent a lot of time in the friend zone, and

this was shaping up to be that kind of friendship, sadly.

She swallowed methodically, flicking a little crumb

from the corner of the table. As handsome as Avery was,

she was here to romance the duke himself. That had to

be it. She’d win his heart and waltz back through the

mirror with her perfect man in tow. She hoped.

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Eight

When Leah and Avery parted ways at the top of

the stairs, it was one o’clock. After that single compli-

ment, he’d kept the conversation light, never venturing

into the territory again. It had been a little disappointing, but even so, she’d really enjoyed talking with the strong,

quiet man. She watched as he disappeared down the

corridor, moving slowly. Must be his bruises hurting him.

She shook her head.
Shouldn’t have let him finish the pots.

Leah’s jaw cracked loudly as she yawned, and she

covered her mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding

her candle. Four hours of sleep? It wasn’t going to be

fun, but she’d make it, she reasoned. It would be worth

it in the end.

She found her door without much trouble and pushed

it open with a creak. Soft snores echoed through the

room from the occupants who were already in bed.

Leah shook her head as she set the candle down on a

small table. She really wasn’t looking forward to sleeping

with strangers, but what choice did she have? Hell, she

thought as she peeled her damp dress off, she’d much

rather go bunk with Avery than with the obnoxious little

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Henrietta. Locking her in the conservatory? Come on.

She’d have to do a lot better than that to get rid of Leah.

She spread her dress out on a ladder- backed chair near

the fireplace, hoping it would dry by morning. Shucking

her petticoat, she balanced on one foot as she removed

her stocking. Another yawn knocked her off balance, and

she grabbed the chair to right herself. The legs of the seat

thumped against the rough wooden floor.

Leah froze as the snoring stopped. God, she didn’t

want to wake them up. It was going to be tough enough

to sleep next to the prickly Henrietta without having to

deal with her anger about being rudely awakened. She

could just imagine the retaliation for that. And the other

two, Sarah and…well, someone— she couldn’t remember

the other girl’s name— had seemed nice enough, but she

could just imagine the hell it would be living with three

girls who couldn’t stand her.

The even breathing resumed, and Leah sighed with

relief. She made quick work of the rest of her undressing,

and tiptoed to the bedside wearing only her shift and

bloomers. Propping her hands on her hips, she stared

down at the bed.

Grand. Just fucking grand.

Henrietta lay diagonal across the double bed, wrapped

in the covers like a burrito. The only way Leah could fit

in the bed at all would be to curl into the fetal position.

Leah’s eyes narrowed, and her hands fisted by her sides.

That was just about enough for today.

More gently than she wanted, Leah pushed Henrietta’s

legs over to the far side of the bed. The girl squeaked

in alarm as Leah pulled the covers, lifting them up to

straighten them with an irritated snap.

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“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing,

you stupid git?”

“Quiet,” Leah whispered. She slipped beneath the

covers beside Henrietta. “Don’t wake the others. I had

to make room. You were hogging the bed.”

And for that, Leah got a sharp kick to the shin.

Gritting her teeth, she rolled to her side and bunched the

pillow behind her head. As much as she wanted to return

the favor, she wouldn’t kick a kid. No matter how much

this particular kid deserved it.

“Good night, Henrietta.”

“Go boil your ’ead.”

Leah closed her eyes.

To her surprise and delight, the face she saw in the

darkness of her mind was aristocratic, thin, and hand-

some. Black hair shot through with distinguishing strands

of silver framed it. A hand with long, slender fingers

reached out to her, and she took it gratefully.

“Oh, my darling,” the duke, looking at least twenty

years younger, whispered as he swept her into a waltz. “I

have searched the world over for you.”

She reached up and touched his face. It was smoother

than she’d expected, without the faint feel of beard

stubble or any wrinkles at all. He was hard, not with