Page 147 of Ironvine

“Your Grace, may I ask—” said Georgina. “Would you truly take her as your mistress?”

A guttural sound vibrated from Oakley’s chest, a beast anticipating his favorite meal. He took his wife’s hand in his. “I have something infinitely more appealing in mind for the lady.”

ChapterSixty-Four

Charles

Charles sentword to Amanda to meet him at the north edge of Crestdown, her brother’s estate, where there was a riding path they’d often use in their youth.

He brought his horse to a stop at the head of the path. How long ago that seemed to him now—he and Brandon and William and Thomas waiting for her to appear brilliantly dressed on her mare along with her brother at her side.

Amanda arrived. She said nothing. Only waited.

“I arranged for a meeting with His Grace as you requested.”

Her eyes flared. “He agreed?”

“He agreed. He is most intrigued to see what you have to offer.”

Her back straightened. “And her? His wife? Does she know?”

“I only know what the Duke has asked of me to relay to you in the strictest of confidence.”

“Very good. When? Where?”

“You must come to my house in two hours’ time where he will meet you. You shall do as he asks.”

“Of course.”

“And if all goes well, tonight you will leave for his estate in the north. You cannot tell anyone where you are going. Not a soul. Not Andrew, not your son, not your maid. No one. This is absolute.”

“There, you see...” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She sat higher in her saddle, her cheeks a deep pink in the cool morning winds.

She was pleased with herself. Her dreams were coming true.

* * *

Through the windowof the royal parlour on the upper floor of Ironvine, the Duchess, Georgina, and Charles watched as Amanda stood alone on the front steps of his home. The sacrifice awaiting the mysterious all-powerful beast. Only Amanda was no innocent maiden.

A sleek black coach, polished and sturdy, raced down the tree-lined road to the house. Not the Duke’s standard coach emblazoned with his coat of arms. It was…discreet. Dark curtains covered the windows. Amanda seemed to stand taller as it came to a stop before her.

The footman darted down and approached her. It was the Duke’s man, the same one who Charles had felt was a spy of some sort, who’d delivered the Duchess’s letters to Hugh in London. He led her to the coach, and the door swung open. A ringed hand reached out.

Amanda bowed her head, took the hand, and climbed into the coach. The footman entered after her and shut the door behind him.”

“Oh my,” said Georgina.

The driver called out and with a crack of his whip, the horses charged forward.

“Do you think she will do what he asks of her?” whispered Georgina. “Whatever he asks?”

“She has too much at stake. Furthermore, she feels she’s already won since she’s caught his interest. She is all zest and zeal now,” replied Charles.

“When the coach returns, we shall go outside to meet it,” the Duchess murmured. “Now, we wait.”

* * *

Poundinghorses hooves had him putting down his second glass of brandy and shooting up from his chair. An hour exactly had passed. The black coach headed up his drive.

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