Page 21 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
Her actions spoke of a desperation that worried Thorne. “I’ve had a letter from her, letting me know she is all right.”
“Yes, she sent us a rather terse note informing us she was safe and not to come looking for her,” Collinsworth said.
Thorne had a feeling there was a good deal Lavinia had not included in her letter. “Yet, you’ve hired men to find her.”
“She has an obligation. Our fathers signed a contract. You and I came to terms. She will be found and she will see to her duty.”
“I’m not going to force the girl into marriage.” He could envision nothing worse than taking to his bed a woman who had no wish to be there. “She told you she had misgivings.”
“Did she tell you that in her letter? Silly chit. She was going to become a duchess. Any misgivings she had were trite when compared with all she would gain.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t run off the night before.”
Collinsworth shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “She may have been locked in her bedchamber,” he said quietly.
Thorne was beginning to question his friendship with Collinsworth. “You imprisoned her?”
“Mother saw to that. I’d have not approved had I known, but she mentioned it only after Lavinia ran off.”
“She spoke to your mother about her doubts?”
“I suppose. There is power, prestige, position that comes with marriage to you. She is five and twenty. On the shelf. The truth is the two of you should have married years ago, before she became accustomed to being unwed and doing as she pleased.” He leaned forward earnestly. “Mother wants this match as much as Father did and is insistent she will marry you.”
“And if I no longer wish to marry her?” Lavinia had the right of it. Knowing she had doubts regarding him made it incredibly difficult to see a path toward an amicable marriage.
The earl downed his whisky, settled back, and studied Thorne. “I’ll add the estate of Foxglove to her dowry for the inconvenience her theatrics have caused if you’ll see your way clear to still marrying her once she is found. It will be less mortifying for all concerned if the marriage goes forward. You announced she was ill. Do you really want to now announce to the world that your bride abandoned you?”
“I’m thinking it might be preferable to marrying a woman who abandoned me.”
“Let’s not be rash. She had no reason not to marry you. She has a tendency to be flighty and overdramatic.”
He’d never noticed either of those particular traits in her. As a matter of fact, he’d always found her to be levelheaded, and had thought she’d manage his household with a great deal of aplomb.
“Besides, it could just be that she had doubts because your courting of her was lacking.”
He hated to admit that Collinsworth might have the right of it. He’d shown her attention, but in retrospect he’d been rather lazy in his pursuit of her because pursuit had not been required. The marriage had been arranged, and aware of her age, he’d realized he might be bringing her mortification by not taking her to wife as soon as he might have. He needed to speak with her, to understand fully what had sent her fleeing. “Why Whitechapel?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Collinsworth said.
“Who does she know there?”
The earl appeared completely flummoxed. “As far as I know, she’s never visited that area of London. It’s not as though there are any shops worth her while there.” He bent forward. “Look, old chap, I will see her found. I will see she understands her duty. She’s a spinster, well on her way to becoming an old maid. She should be groveling at your feet.”
Only Thorne didn’t want a woman who groveled, and an image of a woman who would never grovel flashed through his mind. “Let’s see what she has to say for herself once we find her. Since I announced only that the marriage was postponed, perhaps both our prides can be salvaged.”
“I promised Father I would see her well married. She’s gone and made a mess of things.”
And he’d promisedhisfather he would see Wood’s End annexed onto the Thornley Castle estate, bring only honor and no scandal to his title, and marry an upstanding noblewoman to carry on the untainted bloodline. He’d promised to make him proud. It was quite possible that promises made would prove to be the ruin of them all.
Chapter 7
She knew the moment Thorne strode through the door and into the tavern. It was as though every particle of air had become charged with his power, his confidence.
Mortified to admit it, since the carriage had carried him away two nights earlier, she’d imagined this moment, wished for it, yearned for his return. She’d missed him, which was bloody ridiculous. He was nothing to her. More importantly, she was nothing to him.
Now that he was here, she rather wished he wasn’t. The entire establishment had gone deathly quiet, as though each person knew someone significant had entered, something momentous was on the verge of taking place. Perhaps it was the way his gaze had latched onto hers, held her captive. Or the way he stood there, just waiting for God knew what, decked out in well-tailored clothing that fit him to perfection. A flawlessly knotted white cravat, a muted gray brocade waistcoat, a dark blue coat, tanned trousers, brown gloves. He’d removed his hat to reveal hair tamed into a style she doubted would allow the strands to wrap around her fingers. Very recently, he’d taken a razor to his jaw. And he carried a walking stick, much nicer than the one she’d given him.
He was so incredibly beautiful that it fairly hurt her eyes to gaze on him.
