The Return of the Duke - Grace Callaway Page 0,80

interest in animals.”

“Yes, and especially Bertrand,” Toby said enthusiastically. “Donkeys are clever, but Bertrand is the cleverest of donkeys—”

“Right.” To spare himself further adulation of the mangy beast, Severin asked, “What about other animals? Have you had a pet?”

Toby shook his head. “My papa—our papa, I mean—didn’t like animals. He had hounds, but they were kept in the kennel and not allowed in the house. I did secretly go to pet them sometimes.”

“Would you like a pet?”

Toby halted, his eyes widening. “You mean…one of my own?”

“Well, yes. A dog or cat, whatever you like. Although perhaps not a donkey,” Severin added hastily. “One is quite enough for the stables.”

Toby stared at him, and Severin felt a jolt of alarm at the shimmer in the boy’s eyes.

“Oh, Your Grace…I mean, Knighton,” he said in a quivering voice. “Thank you. That would be the nicest present anyone ever gave me.”

“It’s nothing,” Severin said brusquely. “We’ll go to the pet shop this week.”

“Wait until I tell Eleanor and Fancy!” Toby cried.

Wild joy shone in his eyes, and he craned his neck, looking for their female companions. His brow furrowed. “Knighton, what is that…?”

Severin swung his gaze alertly to Fancy and Eleanor. The pair had almost reached a building that looked to be in the midst of renovation, scaffolding obscuring the façade. He stared at the roof, seeing something on its edge—a large sack, teetering, about to fall.

Straight into Fancy’s path.

An icy blade knifed his heart. He sprinted toward her, shouting, “Fancy, watch out!”

He reached her and Eleanor, glimpsed their surprised faces as he shoved them out of harm’s way. Seconds later, a sound exploded behind them, the ground vibrating beneath his feet. Whirling, he saw plumes of dust rising from the toppled bag, its innards of smashed bricks spilling out where Fancy and Eleanor had been standing moments ago.

Breathing harshly, he saw his wife’s stricken expression.

She could have been taken from me. Cold sweat prickled over his skin, the scar by his heart burning.

“Good ’eavens,” Fancy said shakily, her arm around Eleanor. “What ’appened?”

Her voice jerked Severin out of his momentary daze. Locking his demons back in the cage where they belonged, he directed his gaze to the roof. No movement, no one up there that he could see. How had a bag of bricks plummeted from there?

Had this been an accident…or something more sinister?

“I don’t know,” he said tersely. “But I am going to find out.”

26

The morning after next, Fancy stood by Bea’s side as she exchanged marriage vows with Mr. Murray. Flowers festooned the drawing room of his townhouse, swaths of white gauze adding to the romantic ambience. Mr. Murray’s groomsman was his older brother Viscount Carlisle, a rugged Scotsman who looked on with approval as the vicar conducted the special license ceremony. A solemn stillness fell as the lovers repeated the words that would bind them for life.

Fancy became a bit teary-eyed as Bea, resplendent in a pale blue wedding dress trimmed with seed pearls, promised to have and to hold Mr. Murray through all the travails and blessings of a lifetime. The way Mr. Murray gazed back at his bride, his hazel eyes lit with adoration, made Fancy’s chest ache with joy and longing.

She sneaked a peek at her husband. Chairs had been set in rows to accommodate the couple’s closest friends and family, and Knight sat near the back of the room. He looked handsome and distinguished in his charcoal cutaway coat, silver brocade waistcoat, and silver cravat. As usual, his expression was impassive, but when his eyes met hers, the smoldering intensity in those smoky depths made her heart thump with hope.

While her own marriage hadn’t started as a love match, she felt in her bones that, day by day, things were changing. Knight was sharing more of himself with her and showing through his actions that he cared for her. Since the accident, he’d assigned a coterie of guards to accompany her wherever she went. Although she’d protested that the bag of bricks had probably fallen by accident, Knight had held firm.

“I’m not taking any chances with your safety,” he’d stated. “You are too important.”

All arguments had vanished from her brain, replaced by wild joy. Not only did he appreciate her, now she had become important to him. It was definitely a step in the right direction.

Yesterday, when she’d come to help Bea with the last-minute preparations for the ceremony, she’d giddily shared what Knight had said. Frowning, Bea had wanted to know more about the

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