Page 53 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
"What on earth were you both doing?" he whispered, once the carriage began to move, "Loitering around the docks? I don't need to tell you what people would say, if they caught you here, Lady Emily."
"No one would have recognised me," she shot back, tilting her chin in defiance and looking him square in the eye.
Raff's breath caught in his throat, as her green eyes connected with his. There was something startlingly familiar about those eyes looking out at him from under the rim of the hideous cap. The sense of déjà vu niggled him, though he tried to brush it off.
Of course her eyes look familiar, he chided himself, you've been looking at them since the start of the season.
"What is it?" Emily asked, frowning across the carriage at him.
"Nothing," Raff replied, "You just reminded me of someone for a moment, that's all. And don't try to change the subject; tell me, what were you doing harassing that woman over Lady Anna's disappearance?"
"I just wanted to learn what had happened to her," Emily mumbled in reply, her eyes adopting that overly-innocent look that she used when she was lying.
"Balderdash," Raff shot Emily a dark look, "I heard you mention a child. Does this have anything to do with the servant girl from Lambeth Asylum?"
"W-w-what?"
Emily's face paled and she cast Mary a nervous glance. In turn, the lady's maid gave her mistress a loaded look, before turning her face to Raff.
"Indeed it does, Your Grace," Mary said, "I told her it wasn't right coming down here—that Lady Anna couldn't possibly have anything to do with our maid, but she wouldn't listen. Thank goodness you came along when you did, Your Grace. You're a right hero."
Raff knew when he was being placated, and Mary, for all her charm, was about as subtle as a kick to the head from a horse. He frowned, watching as another strange look passed between mistress and maid.
They were both lying through their teeth—but why?
He lapsed into silence as the hackney wound its way through the busy streets of London. Ostensibly, he had no right to involve himself in Lady Emily's affairs, now that she had called off their engagement. But, he told himself, worrying for her safety was not sticking his nose into her business, it was chivalry—even if that chivalry was motivated by a burning sense of curiosity.
"Promise me you will never do anything like that again," Raff finally said, trying to keep the anger from his voice, "I could not bear if anything were to happen to you."
"I shan't, Your Grace," Emily replied stiffly, uncomfortable in the face of his obvious concern.
The carriage had reached Grosvenor Square and the look of relief on the face of the woman who he had thought would be his bride was rather painful to behold.
Yesterday, when he had confessed to her that when he looked into her eyes, it felt as though his soul had found its home, he had rather expected her to agree with him. The sweetly shy glances, and the understanding which she had always shown him, had lulled him into a false sense of belief; he had thought they were on the same page, but apparently he had been reading from a different book entirely.
It made no sense to Raff, and nor did Lady Emily's assertion that shecouldnot marry him. She had not said "I will not", which rather spoke of certainty but instead had said, "I cannot", which made Raff wonder what was it that was preventing her from giving into the obvious connection between them?
It was, he knew, a rather weak case of semantics, but as he discreetly watched Emily, sitting across from him, he could not help but feel that her expression held more sorrow than it had the day before.
"Perhaps, Your Grace," Mary said, interrupting his thoughts, "You might ask the hackney to stop a little bit away from Fairfax House? Then we can slip in the servant's door unnoticed."
"As much as I dislike aiding and abetting you both," Raff replied, "I can see that some of the neighbours might raise a fuss if they spot Lady Emily parading up the front steps in servant's clothes. Driver, just here," he called, rapping on the roof of the carriage for the driver to stop.
There was no footman to assist the ladies down onto the footpath, but Mary insisted the duke remain in his seat.
"You're rather conspicuous, Your Grace," she said with a smile, as she nimbly hopped down.
"Thank you," Lady Emily said hesitantly, as she scooted across her seat toward the door, "For your assistance, Your Grace."
She had just place her foot upon the step, when—impulsively—Raff reached out and took her hand in his. It was the first time that he had seen her without gloves, and he frowned a little as he felt the callouses on her palms.
"I," he began, then broke off. What could he say to her to make her change her mind? Yesterday he had told her that he loved her, what difference would it make if he told her again?
"I hope that you enjoy your evening," he said, rather stupidly, if truth be told.
"And you," Lady Emily inclined her head, before gently tugging her hand from his, and disappearing after Mary.
Well, Raff thought, as he rapped on the roof of the carriage for the driver to continue on, if he hadn't been sure that Lady Emily was hiding something from him, he certainly was now, after this afternoon's shenanigans.
