Page 18 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
With the driver’s assistance, he managed to get into the carriage. She heard their low voices, no doubt as they discussed where he was to be taken. She was grateful that she couldn’t make out the words, couldn’t be tempted to stroll through his neighborhood and past his residence in the hopes of running into him. The coachman slammed the door shut, doffed his hat at her, and climbed up onto his seat. With a flick of his wrist, a slap of the reins, he urged the horses into a steady clip that had the conveyance disappearing quickly into the fog, leaving her with an unsettling sensation that it was taking a part of her with it.
“So who was that?”
With a low groan, she swung around and glared at Mick. “You were supposed to go home hours ago.”
“Did you think I couldn’t tell you were hiding something, Gil? I couldn’t see him clearly, but he looked to be a beggar. How did he come to be with you?”
She wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but her brother wasn’t one to give up easily. “He was attacked a few nights ago. Injured. I ran the ruffians off. I was only caring for him until he was strong enough to be on his way.”
“And you felt a need to keep that from me?”
Sighing, she rolled her eyes. “A man in my quarters. I thought you might force me to marry him. He feared you might.”
“He should be so lucky.”
Stepping nearer, he placed his arm around her shoulders, drew her in close. She was only an inch or so shorter than he, which made it easy to press his head to hers. “Gil, you never have to keep secrets from me. There is nothing you can do, nothing you can say that I would judge harshly. And I would certainly never insist, under any circumstances, you marry a bloke you had no wish to marry.”
Deep inside, she’d known that, of course. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“Any idea who he is?”
She shook her head. “He goes by Thorne. That’s all I know. You’re not to ask your driver where he delivered him and you most certainly are not to pay him a visit.”
“I gave you my word earlier I wouldn’t make inquiries of my driver. I’m not a man who goes back on his word.”
“I know, but I can tell you’re tempted.”
“I am, but I won’t. Do you know where he’s going?”
“I don’t want to know. He seemed pleasant enough. Spoke like a toff. But it really doesn’t matter. I’m certain I’ll never see him again.”
Chapter 6
He was grateful to have arrived in the dead of night. The only person about was a young footman who’d no doubt been charged with being on hand to assist him when he returned from his adventures and, based upon the rubbing of his eyes, had seen fit to fall asleep in a chair in the foyer.
When fully awake, the man dropped his jaw and widened his eyes, obviously unprepared for the sight of his master’s disheveled appearance and lack of footwear. “Your Grace.” He sounded positively appalled.
“Alert my valet I’m need of his assistance, then fetch my physician. Be quick and quiet. Awaken only those needed to see to your task. There is no reason to alarm the entire household.”
“Yes, sir.” He bolted down a hallway that would eventually lead him to the servants’ quarters.
Thorne began the slow, arduous climb up the grand sweeping stairs, using the banister to pull himself up one step at a time, recalling another night when he’d done the same, only a woman had been tucked beneath his arm, providing him with support and words of encouragement. He found himself running those same words through his mind now. The pain was not as great, but the discomfort was still there. He was far more weakened than he would have liked, but he was regaining his strength. A few more days and he’d be as good as new.
At the top of the stairs, he turned down a corridor that took him away from the bedchamber and suite of rooms designated as belonging to the duke and duchess. He had yet to be able to bring himself to claim those rooms as his since it would mean casting his mother from hers and he had no desire to sleep in a bedchamber next to hers. As long as she resided in his residence, those rooms remained her domain.
By the time he arrived at his bedchamber, he was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. His stubborn nature had refused to allow him to rest until he’d reached his destination—the same stubbornness he’d employed the night he met Gillie, who had demonstrated an equal stubbornness. Gingerly he lowered himself into a plush brown chair near the fireplace. It was an odd thing to sit there wishing his rescuer had witnessed his accomplishment.
“Your Grace.”
He wasn’t surprised he hadn’t heard his valet enter. The man had the good manners to walk about without making a sound. However, he did hear the concern etched in his voice. “Speight. It seems I got into a spot of bother. Help me undress. The physician should be here soon.”
“Your absence had us most worried.” His valet went to work.
“I was not in a position to send word.”
“So it would appear,” Speight said slowly once he’d removed the shirt and encountered the bandages. “The duchess will be most distressed.”
He very much doubted that. “We’re not going to tell the duchess. I’m on the mend.”
