Page 48 of Her Duke By Accident
Matthew pulled back. “Do you understand?” he repeated through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” she muttered, a smug smirk pulling back her lip, “YourGrace.”
He straightened his coat, looking over her shaking figure. “Go inside,” he commanded, before marching past her, disappearing into the approaching evening.
Alicia stood there in the garden, hugging herself and trying to still the tremors that had overtaken her.
Never in Matthew’s life had hewantedto go to a gentlemen’s club. While they were all the rage in London, especially during the summer season, Matthew saw no pleasure in spending money on a flimsy bar and a game of cards. Nevertheless, he stormed around Garvey Manor till he reached the front, where asolitary footman crossed the courtyard unknowingly passing by the duke.
“You there,” Matthew called out.
The footman froze. “Your Grace!” He bowed deeply. “Is there something you need?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Fetch the carriage.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the footman replied before running off in the other direction.
Matthew stood on the front steps of Garvey and tried not to let the cold nip at him. Even though he certainly was not appropriately dressed for a trip to London, there was no part of him that even wanted to set foot within the manor. At any point, his wife or his sister, or even the governess, could back him into a corner. He shuddered.
“Your Grace.”
Matthew turned to see Mr. Livingston hobbling down the front stairs, a top hat, gloves, and coat in his hands. Matthew sighed. “How could you have possibly known I was out here?”
The butler shrugged. “Garvey is quite full of windows, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mr. Livingston,” he said, equipping himself with the attire he needed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“If I could be so bold, Your Grace, and ask what it is you’re doing?”
“I’m waiting for the carriage.”
“Right,” the butler said. “To go where?”
Matthew eyed him. “I thought I’d visit Lew’s and Crake’s.”
Mr. Livingston raised his eyebrows. “Really,” he drawled, “you are going to a club?”
“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“Oh,” he said, “it isn’t.”
Matthew gave him a look.
The butler cleared his throat. “You’ve always been rather adamant on your disapproval of gentlemen’s clubs, Your Grace. And if I remember correctly, Lew’s and Crake’s is the most popular one in London these days. It’ll be quite busy by this hour.”
Matthew sighed deeply. “I’m well aware, Mr. Livingston.”
“Well, then by all means, Your Grace, enjoy the evening out.”
Matthew gave him a curt nod. “Thank you.”
“Unless,” Mr. Livingston paused, “there is something you’d like to discuss.”
“Why would you say that?”
“No reason, Your Grace.”
Matthew turned to face the butler. “Please, don’t make me call you a liar and yell and shout, Mr. Livingston. I’m too tired to be any angrier this evening.”
