Page 87 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
That still wasn’t an excuse.
Their very essence was different.
But that wasn’t what she should focus on at the moment. It seemed something important happened in the study, and for the life of her, she couldn’t even begin to think what except one thing.
A duel.
Which was ridiculous.
But also, not?
Not given how Mr. Grafton had found her, tear-stained, yesterday and Adam turning up. But wouldn’t he have defended her supposed honor then? No, not without her brother, he wouldn’t. He didn’t have that right. But did these things matter? She didn’t know. What she did know was she couldn’t allow them to duel!
Her brother was a crack shot.
And Mr. Grafton? Well, that she didn’t know, but he would probably be her brother’s second.
“And by the by,” Adam’s voice echoed. “You can find me at the Duchy Hotel, where I’ll be staying until my brother leaves London.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, and she watched as Adam strode from her home, wanting to call out but her voice stuck in her throat.
What had just happened?
Her legs moved of their own accord, one step forward, then stillness.
I have to go after him.
But what would she even say?
Another step. Then pause.
Charlene gripped the railing, fingers curling tight around it to keep from rushing over to him. She could demand he return and explain, ease her mind. She could shout at him for all the wrongs she felt in her heart. She could slap him. Or kiss him.
Urgh! Charlene!
She drew a breath, her fingers uncurling, and took another step. Her slipper hovered over the stairwell, and she froze again.
What was she doing?
She turned halfway, facing the corridor behind her. She should go back to her room. Pretend none of this happened. Let her brother and Mr. Grafton decide her future. That would be easier. Neater. Safe.
And entirely unbearable.
She turned back toward the stairs. Her heart thudded a traitorous beat. He’d said he was staying at the Duchy. Where they had kissed. Where fireworks exploded around them. Was it because of David?
That would mean his brother had returned home.
A lump formed in her throat.
She turned back to the staircase, her foot hovering once more.
Then she set it down.
And lifted it up again.
Drat it all, Charlene, move! Decide!
But her feet wouldn’t obey. Her hands twitched uselessly at her sides. She didn’t even know what she wanted—an apology? A declaration? A future with him?
