LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Two

      Simon led them to what the servants called the Gold Drawing Room, holding the pelisse and cloak of the two women trailing behind him. He wasn’t about to risk having the garments stashed away by a footman. Their presence on a sofa in the room where the ladies were to have their tea would be a sharp reminder they would have to leave soon. He was well aware it wasn’t a very proper thing to do, but it would be effective.

      Upon crossing the threshold, he heard an audible gasp behind him. He held in his satisfied smile and hoped it was the Duchess, and not her aunt, who had uttered it. Shocking her into realising this was no longer her home was his purpose for bringing them to this particular room to have their tea. It wasn’t because he had felt compelled to honour her request to his butler when she barged into his home.

      ‘What did you do to the Gold Drawing Room?’ Her astonishment was apparent in her voice.

      He turned to find her scanning the room with wide eyes as her aunt settled herself on the pale green sofa by the fire.

      ‘I changed it,’ he stated plainly.

      ‘I see that. Why? Why would you do that?’

      ‘Because this happens to be one of my favourite rooms in the house and I prefer the classical style.’

      ‘It is mine, as well, or it was before you altered it.’

      ‘I enjoy the view of the gardens and spend a considerable amount of time in here when I’m in residence. I’m thinking of having it converted to my study.’

      ‘Your study?’ she choked.

      ‘Yes. I haven’t had the opportunity to have the furniture moved in yet, but I was able to change the mouldings to the Grecian style and had the walls painted blue to match the colour of the Aegean Sea.’ There was no need for him to explain to her why he had altered the design of a room in a house that was his. In his annoyance with himself, he walked to the sofa near the door and unceremoniously dropped their outer garments on it. ‘I’ll go arrange for your tea.’

      The sooner he got them out of the house, the better it would be for him. Elizabeth, the Duchess of Skeffington, had a nosy nature and her close proximity to the Blue Drawing Room was not what he needed. Before he went in search of a servant, he would make certain the door to that room was locked. But before he was able to leave, she stopped him with her voice.

      ‘Why would you change it?’ Her tone was soft and he wasn’t certain if the question was rhetorical. ‘It was perfectly lovely the way it was. What was so objectionable to you that you felt the need to alter it as you have?’

      He turned to find her with a furrowed brow, skimming her finger along the top of the new marble mantel that was supported by two replica statues of classical women clad in sandals and sleeveless gowns.

      ‘There was nothing objectionable with how the room was decorated. However, this style is more to my liking.’

      ‘I liked the way it had been decorated.’

      There was a slight hint of sadness in her voice and he almost felt sorry for her until she opened her mouth again.

      ‘I realise this style is currently in fashion, but it will not last. People will grow weary of the classical look and then this room will be woefully outdated. It might be already, for all we know. The previous design of the room would have made it quite simple to redecorate by replacing the paint colours or hanging paper on the walls. But this,’ she said, gesturing around the room, ‘this will now require considerable renovation to keep it up to date.’ She uttered the last sentence on a dramatic sigh and her expression was one of false pity.

      ‘Then I am fortunate I am not one to allow the whims of fashion to dictate my taste and will not be renovating this room. The next Duke of Skeffington can concern himself with that task.’ He took a step closer and folded his arms. ‘And I’ll have you know Mr Robert Adam would be very pleased with this room.’

      ‘Mr Adam died in 1792.’

      ‘But many fashionable houses still retain his mark. Shall I name the ones that do?’ He had furnished some of those patrons with a number of antiquities to complement the architectural elements of their rooms. He knew them by heart.

      She held up her hand to stop him. ‘I do not need you to list them. There are also many fashionable homes that do not support his classical style. Such as Stonehaven...before you barged in and altered its refined character with these reproductions.’

      Should he even bother to inform her that the small gold statue of Mars she had just picked up off the mantel was not a reproduction and was over two thousand years old?

      In what he believed to be an attempt to check for a maker’s mark, she eyed the bottom of the statue. ‘Perhaps the woman you marry will not be fond of this style. What then?’

      ‘Perhaps I’ll know the woman is the one I should marry because she will confess how much she adores this room.’

      ‘I believe you will remain a bachelor, sir, for a very long time.’ She placed the statue back on the mantel.

      ‘Oh, I’m sure I can find a number of women who would want to be the Duchess of Skeffington regardless of my partiality to the classical style. It’s well known that there are certain women in Britain whose aim it is to marry a man for his money and his prestigious title.’ He arched his brow and tilted his head.

      It was apparent from the way she narrowed her big brown eyes at him that she was aware he was referring to her marriage to the old Duke. He knew women like her and, since he had become the latest Duke of Skeffington, he had been introduced to too many for his liking here in England. Women had shunned his advances in the past, sighting

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