The Duke Who Didn't (Wedgeford Trials, #1)

by Courtney Milan

Was there anything in life more pleasurable than the sensation of striking a dark line through an item on one’s list with a pencil? Yes. There was the visceral sensation of taking out one’s pencil and striking a dark line through the last item on one’s daily list. Finishing a list had an almost talismanic quality, as if the act of turning intentions into words, then words into deeds, carried a subtle magic.

“I think,” she said in her most demanding voice, “that if you recount the number of rooms, you will find that you only have one room left.” “I…” He looked at Chloe, then at Jeremy, then at the coins. “You have one room,” Chloe informed him. “Exactly one. Only one. At this time, that is the only room you have available to us.” The innkeeper looked at Jeremy. “Sir?” Beside her, Jeremy sighed. “Yes,” he finally said in incredibly flat tones. “You heard the lady correctly. You have only one room. We are exceedingly lucky that we arrived in time to find it.” “I…see?” The innkeeper nodded, extremely puzzled. “We have only one room? But it’s the best of the four we have remaining, I suppose. Is that the right thing to say?” Chloe exhaled in relief. She let her gaze slide over to Jeremy. He was looking at her with an expression she could not quite understand. He seemed almost unable to look away, and that made her feel shy, knowing what was to come. “Oh, drat it all,” she said in an unconvincing monotone. “We shall have to share our quarters.” “Really,” the innkeeper cut in, “if you don’t wish to, then—” “We do!” Chloe sang out. “It’s perfect! Please stop talking!” She shoved the coins across the table at him. The man just looked at her, then at the money. “I…see. Very well.”

“Look at you,” Jeremy said in awe. “With your full sentences and your conjugated verbs. I am in awe of your cognitive capacity.”

“I didn’t know you were so good at selling buns,” Chloe said behind him. Jeremy just smiled at her. “You didn’t know I was good at saying words and getting people to do things? Really? And you claim to have known me?” Chloe blinked. “Oh. Excellent point. Carry on.”

She imagined her fears of frailty and abandonment as a heavy, spiked ball deep inside her. But she’d dealt with fears before. She thanked them for keeping her safe, acknowledged them for the work they had done in bringing her to this moment. And then she imagined taking that spiked ball out of her, holding it out as if it were a dandelion puff…and blowing all that fear away, to scatter in the wind.