Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,63

had a card, let alone one with that street on it.

She waited for the rush of steps coming toward her and Charles bursting into this reception hall and his happy surprise in seeing her. She had seen this day in her mind many times, like a play unfolding on a stage. Now she was here, and she almost wept with her relief that the long wait was over.

Steps. Not rushing, but measured and slow. The older man reappeared. He gestured for her to follow him.

They walked through the house, past a dining room and a few other doors. In the back, the man took her outside. She found herself in a garden.

“There is a stone bench in the back,” he said. “If you could wait there.”

She strode the path to the back and found the bench. She sat and waited. She could not see the house well from here. After a few moments, she saw the crown of a dark head coming toward her. Slowly, the rest of that head came into view. The dark curls. The gray eyes. The face she adored.

Charles.

She smiled and her eyes misted. She did not bother to wipe them. There was no shame in happiness.

He smiled back. She just looked at him, allowing his presence to fill in her memories. His face had grown firmer. Harder. Well, five years made a difference in a young man. He’d only been eighteen when she last saw him. She probably looked very different too. His dark hair had been dressed as fashionably unruly, and his long frock coat showed the fitted sleeves and broad lapels popular in Paris. His eyes—She remembered them full of joy and impish humor. Now their pale color looked opaque and . . . older.

“Rosamund.”

It was only when he said her name that she realized he had been standing silently in front of her for some time.

“I expect you are surprised.” She had to battle the urge to dance over to him.

“Stunned. What are you doing here?”

A slight misgiving wormed its way into her excitement. “I am visiting Paris and decided to call. It has been so long since I saw you.”

He took a few steps towards her. “A very long time. I almost did not recognize you.”

“Surely I haven’t changed so much.”

“Not very much. Still lovely.” His gaze drifted down. “You have done well for yourself.”

“I have, much to my surprise.”

Again that long gaze, as if he calculated the cost of her ensemble. She could no longer ignore that he remained very reserved. Distant. Hardly delirious with joy.

He looked down, and she realized he held her card and was looking at the address.

“Is this your home now?”

“Yes, I have a house in London.”

“Do you now.” Not a question.

“Is this your house?” she asked, looking through the garden to the high-pitched roof.

“Only some chambers. They suit me, however.”

“More than your parents’ home in London?”

“Much more than that. We get on quite well now, with them there and me here.”

“You plan to remain here? Forever?”

“Until my father passes, at least. I like Paris. Whether I will enjoy it as much when I am older—” He shrugged. “What did you do after they threw you out? I always felt guilty about that.”

“I found service in another house.”

“With no references?”

“There are always those willing to take on a girl if the pay is low enough.”

He frowned at that. Once more, he assessed her. “And here I worried that you would fall victim to men who prey on pretty servant girls.”

Something in his tone quelled her enthusiasm in a blink. A judgmental inflection suggested he had not worried at all, but now wondered. “You mean men like you, Charles?”

That took him aback. “I suppose I deserved that. But you were hardly unwilling.”

“We were in love. That makes it different.”

“Young men are always in love if the girl is pretty. You know that by now, I expect.”

Her heart thickened. It was all she could do to hide how his words devastated her. How cruel she found them.

“Are you here with your sister?” he asked.

“No. Lily is in a school.”

“You can’t be traveling alone.”

“Actually, I am.”

“I doubt that.”

She paced a bit closer to him. He had not moved much. He remained close to the end of the path, as if he needed to have the means of a quick escape. What had he worried about when he saw that card? That she had brought him a love child? That she wanted to demand payment of some kind? He certainly