Page 64 of His Grace, the Duke
“I have urgent business to attend to and must depart,” he said, suddenly all authority. “In ten minutes’ time, I want you to alert my brother to my leaving and tell him I have taken my ward with me. Not a minute sooner, understood?”
This was absolutely ridiculous. If riding with James in a carriage at midnight was enough to get her in the society papers, what might climbing out a window with the duke doto her reputation? That was to say nothing about how the men would respond on learning she was gone. But His Grace was right: No force on Earth would compel her to face Marianne again tonight.
The footman took off and the duke shut the door, crossing the room back over to her. “Well? A new adventure awaits. Shall we?” He held out his hand again.
She took a step back, shaking her head. “This is crazy. This is—we can’t go out a window. You’re mad!”
He grinned. “Yes... but you already knew that. It didn’t stop you from agreeing to be my ward. My madness is yours now, Cabbage.”
She blinked, feeling fresh tears spring to her eyes. “I can’t—I—I don’t want the papers to write about me,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be an object of scorn. I don’t want to embarrass your house, your family... any more than I already have—”
The duke placed a finger under her chin. “Look at me, Cabbage.”
She met his gaze, seeing so much of James in the shape of his brows, the lift of his cheekbones.
“Do you know why your business is being splashed across the gossip rags?”
She nodded, sucking in a breath. “Because I was reckless—”
“No,” he countered. “The wholetonis gossiping about you because you areworthgossiping about. You’ve arrived, Rosalie Harrow,” he said with a widening grin. “You are the mysterious, beautiful, enchanting new ward of the Duke of Norland. Through your connection to me, you will take tea with royalty. You will breathe the rarified air of Kensington Gardens. You will walk into rooms on my arm. You will be served first, youwill always have the best seat, and you will not give a bloodydamnabout all the noise that echoes around you.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes.
“They will talk about you,” he admitted with a slow nod. “They will talk about you, because they cannotbeyou. But their envy is not yours to bear. Live your life on your terms.” He paused, searching her eyes. “There, was that friendly advice?”
She laughed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. Now, are we going? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody starving.” He held out his hand a third time.
Throwing caution to the wind, she took it.
30
Burke
“Where the hellcan they be?” Burke growled. “It’s nearly midnight!”
He was pacing before the fireplace in the drawing room. He had been for over an hour. If he wasn’t careful, he might just wear a hole in the carpet. The ladies had all retired hours ago, and James had dismissed the servants, so they were blessedly alone.
“We’re talking about George,” James replied. “There is quite literally no way to know where he might go or what he might do.”
Tom rose to his feet. “I can’t just keep sitting here.”
“Well, you can’t go wandering the streets calling her name either,” James replied. “Just sit down and wait. They’ll return soon, and you’ll have your answers.”
Reluctantly, Tom paused halfway between the sofa and the door.
“You meanwewill have answers,” Burke countered, turning on the carpet to face his friend. “Don’t pull back from this, James. Stay with us.”
James scowled, gesturing to his position on the chair. “I’m sitting right here, aren’t I?”
“You’re here, but you’re nothere,” Burke replied. “Don’t shut us out, and don’t push her away. You must give her a chance to explain.”
“No one is saying we won’t,” Tom assured him.
Burke gave a curt nod, knowing he was saying the words for his own benefit as much as theirs. He was more unsettled now than he had been upon first learning Rosalie fled Alcott. At least then Burke knew she was with James, and thus safe. George was an entirely different story. Why the hell would Rosalie agree to leave with him?
It was the not knowing that was driving him mad. For the hundredth time that night, he dragged both hands through his hair. The sound he made in his throat was somewhere between a moan and a groan.
