Page 88 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
She pressed a hand to her temple. None of this made sense.
And yet, her heart whispered go.
She took the flight of stairs with a rush, hoping her brother and Mr. Grafton remained in the study long enough that she could escape without their notice. She might not know what she wanted to hear from him, what she wanted to do after all the revelations of the past twenty-four hours, but she knew if she didn’t follow him right now, she might just regret it all her life.
Which was mad.
But then, perhaps she was a little crazy.
A lot of madness.
Crazy for him. Adam.
If only her pride didn’t weigh quite so much. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t hide behind the past pain and future fear anymore. She had to claim.
And she wanted to claim him.
Even if that meant he’d break her heart.
“Charlene Fielding! Where do you think you’re going!” Her brother’s voice boomed.
Her heart sank to her toes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlene paced thewide stone path of her greenhouse, her boots tapping against the damp floor. Sunlight filtered through the paneled glass above, casting muted green and gold light onto the riot of plants surrounding her, but she could not enjoy it. Normally, the dense foliage brought her serenity. Normally, the delicate orchids lining the far table would command her attention. But now her gaze skimmed over the blooms as though they were no more remarkable than field daisies.
Her brother had stopped her before she could slip out from the house and chase after Adam. He also refused to tell her what had been discussed. Mr. Grafton hadn’t been any help either.
However, a letter arrived.
Her hands shook as she unfolded the letter again that had been delivered by special courier only minutes before, Adam’s bold script cutting across the page. She didn’t need to reread it, but she did anyway, the words imprinting themselves deeper into her mind.
If you need me, find me at The Duchy Hotel, for I shall not return to my home.
Her throat tightened. Not return? Find me?
Did he mean forever? Her stomach twisted. The words couldn’t mean anything else. Adam wasn’t the sort to flee fromsomething he deemed his duty. He was the sort to face the barrel of a pistol at dawn without flinching. He was going to duel. For her. The thought hit her like a hard slap, setting her pacing anew.
He could be hurt.
Or worse…
She read on, her pulse quickening.
Before tomorrow morning, I must give you something I have so long owed you.
The meaning eluded her, leaving her in a tangle of uncertainty. What did he owe her? Her mind raced, but it latched onto nothing. Even her orchids provided no foothold for her thoughts. That was the strangest thing of all. Normally, she would find solace in the soft pearly hues of her slipper orchids or the speckled gold of her smoothed blooms. But now, they sat like silent spectators to her failing composure.
“Dash it all!” she muttered, startling the gardener’s boy sweeping near the door. He scurried out without a word, leaving her alone with her turmoil.
The sound of footsteps snapped her upright, and her father appeared beneath the greenhouse archway, his frame silhouetted by the bright light beyond. “Has a villain attacked your precious plants? Or do you aim to frighten the poor boy into tending them better?” Lord Fielding crossed the threshold with his usual air of unshakable calm, his spectacles slipping slightly down his nose.
“Father,” Charlene said breathlessly, clutching the letter. “When have you returned from your tours of the estates?”
“Just now.” He peered at her closely, taking her in, and arched a brow. “My darling Charlene, you look ready to swoon.”
“No.”
