Page 106 of His Duchess' Mischief

His footsteps paused beside the door as if he were deciding what to do. Then, they continued on down the corridor.

Alicia let out a long and miserable sigh. Soft movement beside her arm made her open her eyes.

Dove nuzzled her head, purring in greeting, and she took the little kitten into her arms, hugging her tightly as she let her tears fall.

CHAPTER 33

“Is your mistress at home?”

Seth waited patiently on the doorstep, watching the butler look over his card, the man’s eyes old and tired as he squinted at the printed words.

That morning, he had awoken at dawn, the betrayal on Alicia’s face fresh in his mind as he thought back to their arrival the night before.

He hated the idea that he had upset her, but he also understood that if he tried to make her his before he was ready, they would never truly come together as he desired.

Alicia deserves to have a husband who can give himself to her fully. The only way I can do that is by finding out the truth. Once and for all.

The butler’s gray eyes rose to him. “The Marquess and Marchioness have gone out for a stroll in the park, Your Grace. They should be back within a half hour or so if you can wait?”

“No matter,” Seth said, nodding his head in thanks.

I need not wait for her when I know where she will be.

It had not taken much to discover the name of the lady in the dark blue dress. The patronesses of Almack’s were always happy to help him with any inquiry he made, and they had been most forthcoming.

Lady Nicole Clarendon was her name. Whether or not she had ever possessed the name Forsythe was of little importance.

If she has something to hide, I shall hear it from her own lips.

He climbed down the front steps of the townhouse, tugging on his glove, and headed for the dark metal railings and swaying trees in the distance.

The butler had not specified which park his lord and lady went to, but Seth could assume, with the Marquess’s poor health, that it would not be too far.

His assumption was rewarded as he stepped through a gate on the west side and saw several couples ahead of him, but only one that could be his quarry.

The Marquess was sitting in a wheelchair at the lakeside. A nursemaid stood behind him, and his wife was a little further back, accompanied by her maid.

Seth’s fingers were tingling with anticipation as he made his way toward her.

As he approached, he noticed that the Marchioness’s hair was streaked with gray, her spine stiff and straight. She barely moved. The only sign she was not a statue was the whisper of wind through her hair.

Her maid saw him first, stiffening and murmuring something to her.

Seth came to a halt, waiting for the inevitable moment of truth. Either she would recognize him or not, and he would finally have his answer.

The lady turned around, and it was as if he was thrown back in time to that moment in the basement of Godolphin House. Those wide brown eyes still stared at him imploringly, but this time they were filled with fear.

She gasped, glancing furtively back at her husband, and took a step away.

Seth raised his hand, trying to make himself look as non-threatening as possible. “My Lady, I am sorry to trouble you. I know we are not acquainted, but I have to speak with you.”

Nicole glanced at her lady’s maid and swallowed visibly. “Y-Your Grace,” she said, her eyes darting everywhere but in Seth’s direction, as though she was seeking an escape.

“Please, I only want a moment of your time.”

Again, she looked back at her husband, but he was facing the lake. From what Seth could tell, he might have fallen asleep.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

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