Page 91 of His Duchess' Mischief

“You will need to leave in about half an hour, Your Grace.”

“Oh goodness, we must make haste!”

Rose hesitated, looking at her quizzically.

Alicia frowned at her. “What is it?”

“You do not wish… to be late tonight, Your Grace?” Rose asked.

Alicia laughed. “No. Thank you, Rose. I believe my days of making the Duke wait are over.”

Seth flinched as his valet secured the cufflinks on his sleeve.

Where have these damned nerves come from?

The other man was silent and composed as he threaded the chain through the buttonhole, and Seth pulled at his cravat irritably. It felt tight against his heated skin.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he looked at the fading light outside the window, every part of his body attuned to the sounds around him, his mind fixated on seeing Alicia again.

Every movement in the adjacent room made his heart leap enough to drive him mad.

Not in thirteen years had he spoken to anyone as he had today.

He was not sure what had come over him during the time they had spent searching for the kitten, but whatever it was, he was glad of it.

He felt light on his feet, as if an anvil that had been weighing him down had been removed from around his neck.

Today, he felt understood. Alicia had not tried to argue with him about his guilt or tell him it would be all right. She had simply listened, sympathized, and allowed him to grieve.

I did not expect marriage to be so liberating.

After his discussion with Alicia, coupled with her patient understanding, he was even more determined to continue his investigation.

His talk with Sheringham had given him a new lead for the first time in over a decade.

If Gordon had been foolish enough to consider an elopement with a lady from a good family, no matter their circumstances, he could well imagine a confrontation taking place.

And who was this ‘rival’ he spoke of? Could it have led to a jealous rage?

Seth simply had to pull that new thread and see what it revealed.

He stretched his arms behind his back as his valet pulled his coat over his arms and onto his shoulders.

The tight fit made him even less comfortable than he had been earlier.

He pulled the coat tight around him, glancing at his valet as the man gave him an appraising look.

“Will I do, Harper?”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

He nodded. Then, he turned on his heel, his hand flexing, missing the feel of his wife’s fingers in his own, and left the room.

The King’s Theatre always filled Alicia with awe whenever she set foot in it.

The huge proscenium arch below her stretched toward the front row of the audience, the scent of perfume heavy in the air as she leaned over the side and stared down at the milling crowds.

Ladies and gentlemen were walking beneath her, and she felt like a queen standing in the box with the Duke behind her.

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