In the Dark with the Duke by Christi Caldwell Page 0,118

a to-hell-with-you grin for their troubles.

And yet . . . just because he could, didn’t mean he should do it alone.

And what was more, she didn’t want him to.

I want to be there with him . . .

She wanted to be there when he took on the Town, lending her support. She wanted to help him determine whether the answers he sought were in fact there . . . and if they were, she wanted to stand beside him through that, too.

And she could do all those things.

Hugh had shown her that.

Lila snapped her book closed, bringing his attention her way. “Come with me.” Balancing their belongings in one arm, she pulled herself to standing.

“Where . . . ?”

Not breaking stride, Lila grabbed him quickly by the hand and led him from the room.

And mayhap it was more a fear of her courage deserting her that prompted the quickness of her steps. But Hugh followed close behind. Wordlessly, they wound through the empty halls until they reached the furthest recesses of Sylvia’s townhouse.

Lila paused at the door, and then, gripping the handle, she shoved the doors open a fraction.

A blinding ray of sunshine slashed through that crack, and she blinked rapidly, little black orbs forming behind her eyes from the unaccustomed brightness. She took several moments to accustom herself to that light, and then, pushing the panel wider, she stepped out.

Hugh came to a stop beside her shoulder. “It is . . . magnificent.” He spoke in soft, reverent tones.

Lila stared out, seeing it through his eyes. Seeing the grounds with new ones. “It is,” she softly acknowledged, to herself as much as to him.

The gardens had long been a haven for her sister. But with the late earl’s passing, they’d become a sanctuary . . . the place her sister disappeared to. Also the place Lila had long avoided. “It doesn’t look at all a part of London, does it?” she murmured wistfully.

He shook his head, remaining mute, transfixed.

Where stone or gravel should be, there was instead a blanket of emerald-green grass. Lush blackthorns lined a path on both sides, all the way to the back of the enclosed plot. The small trees with their blackish barks were already in full bloom. Abundant as they were, they formed a canopy of creamy white petals.

Lila drew the door closed, shutting them both off from the rest of the world. Clasping her hands behind her, she lay against the panel and tipped her gaze up. “Since Peterloo, I’ve despised everything green, and anything that recalled memories of the countryside.” A pair of goldfinches fluttered and flittered about one another in the air, and she followed their sweet dance as they chirped their late-spring song. Lila didn’t take her gaze from them as they soared about, following their entire flight until the two small passerine birds crossed over the high brick wall and disappeared from sight. “It’s been so much easier, staying indoors. Coming out at night when the rest of the world sleeps. Only to now realize how very dark it has been in the shadows,” she whispered. “I don’t want to work indoors anymore. I don’t want to be shut away. I don’t want to let myself be trapped here in London because I’m afraid of the memories that belong to a different countryside.” Her skin tingled with the heat of his eyes on her, and her eyes found his. “I want to work with you . . . in the sunlight, for a change.” For when Hugh was here, anything felt possible.

He stilled. “Lila . . .”

She held a shaky hand up, silencing him, needing to get the words out. Not knowing if he intended to deter her, not allowing it either way. “And I want to be with you tonight. At the Marquess of Prendergast’s.”

She wanted to attend the Marquess of Prendergast’s masquerade.

With him.

He’d never been much with words. In the rookeries, they’d been a commodity without any real value.

Even if he had been in possession of every last right word, in this instance, he’d never have come up with anything.

For all the fear she carried, she’d brave that crowd . . . for him.

Hugh, who wasn’t worthy in any way.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said hoarsely.

Her eyes sparkled. “There’s nothing for you to say. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

And he laughed. It burst from him. Raw and real and honest, and it felt so very good. Hugh dropped his brow to hers. “Ordering