Chapter Five
One touch. One casual touch, far more innocent and chaste than those he had received from other women--but with just a small, tender squeeze of his arm, Lady Emily had completely captured Raff's heart.
It was not just her touch, of course, but her sweet, comforting words.
"You have every right to grieve."
Her words were the very anathema to his own beliefs. He was a duke, he had responsibilities, he could not afford to lose control, nor give over to the aching loss which filled his soul. And yet, the deep sincerity in Lady Emily's voice, and the understanding look in her eyes, had touched at the part of Raff that longed to curl up into a ball and sob at the loss of David and Reese.
Sobbing like a child will be sure to woo her, Raff thought to himself with a derisive snort, as he climbed the steps of Lord Fairfax's townhouse, two days after their trip to Drury Lane. Mind you, wooing Lady Emily was proving far more difficult than he had anticipated, given that she had not been "at home" both times that he had called.
"Is she actually not at home?" Raff queried the officious butler, Graves, who, after opening the door, had once again lamented that Lady Emily was not in. "Or is she just not at home to me?"
"Oh, no, Your Grace," Graves replied, visibly horrified by the idea that anyone would snub the duke, "My Lady is out with her maid, making calls of her own."
"Ruddy wonderful," Raff sighed, donning the beaverskin hat he had just removed, and turning on his heel.
"But," the butler called quickly, "I did hear her mention that she would be visiting the plumassier, once she was finished. Mr Bobitol, just off Cavendish Square, is whom she usually goes to for trimmings."
Raff, too proud to admit to a servant that the only way he could see his betrothed was if he accosted her unaware, gave a stiff nod.
"Tell her I called," he said imperiously, as though he was not headed straight to Cavendish Square, where he could tell her himself.
"Yes, Your Grace," Graves said quickly, "Of course, Your Grace. Wonderful to see you again, Your Grace."
"And you," Raff replied automatically, then frowned. Lud, his relationship with Lady Emily's butler was progressing faster than with the lady herself.
Taking the steps two at a time, Raff made for his carriage, eager to be on his way.