Page 91 of His Forbidden Duchess
Eloise threw him another uncomfortable smile. “Perhaps you would like to pour us another cup of tea, Stephen,” she suggested.
“Of course.”
He did as she asked, picking up the teapot and pouring them all a fresh cup of tea. She noticed a slight tremor in his hand as he passed her the cup.
“Thank you.” She took a sip, her gaze briefly meeting his own.
“It is my pleasure, I assure you” he replied smoothly. “I only hope I am not overstaying my welcome. You must have a busy schedule, managing this grand place without His Grace here to assist.”
“Oh, Eloise manages beautifully,” Hannah interjected with a bright smile. “I dare say she could even teach the Duke a thing or two.”
Eloise chuckled, but her gaze shifted to Stephen, watching him carefully as he took a sip of his tea.
Stephen leaned forward, placing his cup down with a rattle. “I hope I am not speaking out of turn, Your Grace,” he began, “but I do hope your husband is busy working and not spending his time gambling.”
Eloise glanced at Hannah in shock, her discomfort growing at Stephen’s boldness. “I am quite certain that he is doing whatever is required of him in London. It is not for us to concern ourselves with the Duke’s whereabouts.”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly though there was a faint smirk on his lips. “Forgive me, I sometimes speak too frankly.”
As the conversation wound down Stephen rose, giving them each a bow. “Thank you for your company, Your Grace, Lady Hannah. Do let His Grace know that I called upon him, would you?”
“Of course, Stephen,” Eloise replied, nodding as she watched him leave.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Come on, Kingswell,” Percy murmured, nudging him with an elbow as he slid a new hand of cards in Felix’s direction. “I have never seen you lose so many hands in one go. Are you trying to lose your fortune?”
London was not the escape Felix had hoped it would be, and after two long weeks, he was a mess.
He found himself once more at the gaming hell with a set of dice in his hands or a pack of cards on the table, but his heart was not in it like it used to be.
I have lost myself.
Felix sat at the edge of one of the tables, oblivious to the noise of cards, chips, and chatter. He held a glass of brandy in his hand, his expression distant as he absently played through another round.
The man across from him, a nameless and loud stranger, slapped down his cards with a gleeful shout, raking in the winnings with a smug grin.
Felix barely noticed and he cared even less.
“I am just having fun, Percy,” he said.
Percy snorted. “Then at least try to look as though you are enjoying yourself. If you want to convince us, that is.”
Felix let out a noncommittal grunt, his eyes fixed on the worn pattern of the cards turned supple from years of use.
How many hands of cards had he played tonight? Six? Twelve? It was impossible to keep count. He’d been sure this was the solution to everything; a return to the old ways, the old Felix, but it seemed that wouldn’t work any longer.
Percy sighed, setting down his cards. “If you were any further away, you would be in another country. What is going on? Do you wish to return to Kingswell?”
Felix forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and took a sip of his brandy. “Just a bad night, Percy. And no, I absolutelydo notwish to return.”
“A bad night?” Percy scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You have had a week of bad nights. No amount of brandy or cards has put thatbrooding expression to rest. And I cannot help but notice that you are getting worse each time we come here.”
Felix shot him a dark look, but Percy, undeterred, leaned closer. “You are acting like a man who has lost something priceless, Felix. Why keep denying it?”
Felix’s fingers tightened around his glass, his gaze drifting over the crowded room. He hated to admit it, but he could feel her absence everywhere: the softness of her laugh, the warmth of her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she thought he wasn’t looking.
“It is better this way,” he muttered, more to himself than to Percy. “She deserves more than I can give.”
