Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,66

his frock coat and gave it to her.

They didn’t speak for a long while, just sat there with his arm embracing her shoulders and her sighs close to his ear. Outside, the late afternoon sun turned golden and the breeze coming in the long windows cooled.

“Thank you,” she finally said. “It helps more than I expected.”

His reputation for tact was not the best, but even he knew when to remain silent.

“When I first came up to London, I took service in the house of a gentleman. What references I had were rural, and not adequate for such a situation, so I was not paid the usual wage. I was glad for anything, though. I started in the kitchen; then, after a few months, was made a chambermaid. Such a grand house it seemed to me too. I thought I was lucky.”

“You were probably worth twice what they paid you.”

“I like to think I earned my keep at least. So there I was when I made a mistake. I fell in love with the son of the family. We became lovers.”

Ah. “Did his parents discover that?”

She nodded.

“I suppose you were thrown out.”

“In the middle of the night. No references.”

“And the son?”

“He was sent on a long tour of the Continent.” She settled in closer. Her voice had returned to normal now. “We had sworn our love. We would be together soon, he promised. I believed him.”

“You were young.”

“I wasn’t young two days ago when I still believed him. Just stupid. Childish.”

“I hope you are not blaming yourself. This man was a rogue.”

“I do not blame meself—myself—for falling in love back then, or for believing in him. I blame myself for not seeing the truth of it for five long years. For holding on to a dream that had no substance. I should have known better long ago. I’m usually halfway clever at least.”

Give me his name so I can go thrash him. It would serve no purpose, but he would enjoy it immensely. “Did you see him today? Is that why you were weeping?”

“I’m sorry to say I did. I had Minerva find him for me. I intruded on your journey here so I could have a reunion with him. Only—it was not what I expected.” She laughed sadly. “Minerva warned me. I didn’t listen. I was so sure, you see.”

He could tell her composure wobbled again. He ventured the smallest kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry you were disappointed.”

“That was the least of it.” She turned in his arm and looked at him. “He saw my fine ensemble. He noted the street on my card. He learned you were a friend. He noticed my better speech now, and found it odd Lily was in a school. All the things I thought would make me worthy of him, he took as evidence that—that—”

“He said as much?”

She nodded, then dropped her head back on his shoulder.

“I do not know this man, but I already do not like him,” he said, unable to remain silent now that it was clear she had been grievously insulted today. “Not only because he made you cry, although that is a big reason. Forgive my frankness if you still have feelings for him, but he is a scoundrel. He seduced an innocent who was in the care of his own family, turned her head, implied marriage would follow, then left her to make her own way after ruining her. He made no attempt to make amends later, or to ensure you had even survived. Then you turn up, still innocent in your own way, and he insults you.”

She turned halfway through his tirade and watched him. It was her turn to place a little kiss on the cheek of someone who had lost their composure. “There is no reason for you to be angry with him,” she said. “You don’t know him.”

“More’s the pity. Give me his name.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to call him out.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t. That is dangerous.”

“Not for me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Men like him are too conceited and lazy to practice enough. I, on the other hand, have spent many hours over many years perfecting my skill.” He saw how alarmed she appeared. “Don’t worry. I won’t kill him. His name, now.”

“No. No, no, no.” She smacked his shoulder with each denial. “I am touched that you want to fight for my honor, but it won’t do. I regret now confiding in you, if you are going to even think of doing that. Turn