Page 34 of How to Capture a Duke

He turned. Handsome with blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and a quick smile, Lord Jeffries approached and bowed. “Hello, Your Grace. I’m your husband’s cousin.”

“Good afternoon, Lord Jeffries.”

He studied her curiously, and her nervousness rose.

“Pardon my unexpected visit,” he said, “but I wanted to meet the duke’s new wife. If I waited for him to invite me, I’d be waiting a very long time.”

One might think the statement rude, but Ellie found it humorous in its honesty. It was true. Tristan would not hold a ball to properly introduce his new wife to society.

Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “You must know my husband well.”

Lord Jeffries’s blue eyes twinkled. “Our fathers were brothers, and we grew up together. Although, since His Grace is older, we did not attend Eton together.”

She judged Lord Jeffries to be closer to her age. She motioned to the gold settee against the wall. “Please sit. May I offer you refreshment?”

He settled on the settee. “As an Englishman, I’m afraid to admit I do not prefer tea.”

Ellie joined him on the settee. “Coffee then?”

“I do prefer it to tea. Jonathan’s has the best brew.”

“The establishment where stock brokers and jobbers gather?” she asked.

He looked at her with even more renewed interest. “I enjoy dabbling in the London Stock Exchange. I’m surprised you know of the details.”

“I was raised a bit unconventionally.”

“Fascinating.”

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was studying her like she was a rare item in a curiosity cabinet. “You are looking at me curiously.”

His face turned a telltale shade of scarlet. “Forgive me. You are not exactly what I had expected. I had assumed you were…you were—”

“You assumed I was what?”

He shook his head. “I cannot say.”

A suspicion clawed at her. “You assumed I was a harpy, a shrew, or horribly ugly. The duke has not spoken fondly of me.”

Lord Jeffries looked aghast. “He never called you any of those things!”

“But he never spoke favorably of me, either, did he?”

He shifted on the settee, his discomfort obvious. “My cousin can be difficult.”

“You do not need to defend him, my lord.” Difficult was not the only word she would use to describe her husband. Stubborn to a fault. Deceptive. Unforgiving.

“You must understand him. His Grace speaks little and distrusts most people,” Jeffries said.

Her interest was piqued. If Lord Jeffries grew up with Tristan, then he would be able to shed light on her husband’s past. Maybe then she could understand him.

“Why is he so distrustful?” she asked.

“You must know that he is a man of few words.”

She knew where this was headed. It still didn’t explain everything. “He stutters,” she said. “Anyone can discern this within five minutes of speaking with him.”

“Yes, well, he wasn’t treated nicely as a youth, even by the former duchess.”