“I’m sorry for embroiling you in this,” she said, “but it doesn’t give you the right to sabotage me--especially when my marriage will also free you of your obligation. From now on, I want you to stay out of my marital problems. I no longer require your help in finding a husband.” Her eyes burned into his. “Is that clear?”
He said nothing, and she turned to go. Only when she was at the steps up that led back up to the house that he spoke.
“Lady Leah, please don’t--”
“Just leave me alone,” she interrupted, without turning to look at him. And then she hurried up the stairs and disappeared into the house, leaving Dorian awash in a strange combination of guilt and self-righteousness.
She’s wrong,Dorian thought furiously.I do have a right to interfere.But even he knew he was wrong, and he knew, even as he turned away and walked deeper into the garden, that he was going to have his work cut out for him making this up to her.
Chapter Six
“Ican’t believe him,” Leah said, not for the first time that night, as she sat on the edge of Celeste’s bed, willing herself to feel tired. It was past midnight, and she wasn’t able to sleep. All evening, she had been avoiding Nottington.
She was sure that if she spoke to him after what he’d done that she would end up screaming in front of all their house guests. But it had been difficult. Especially since they had been seated across from each other at dinner. She hadn’t been able to look at him, which was made worse by the fact she could see him trying to catch her eye.
“I know, it was awful,” Celeste said, sighing as she set down the book she was reading. “I can’t believe he ruined your chances with Trembley. He would have made a good match.”
Leah nodded, although the seed of doubt had now been planted. “Do you know Lady Claire Watson?” she asked. “Perhaps Trembley did treat her badly, if they really were almost engagedto be married until he thought I might be a better catch.” She bit her lip. “It’s true that I don’t want to marry a man who would jilt a young lady just because he enjoyed the challenge or wealth of another young lady better.”
“No, that’s true, you wouldn’t,” Celeste agreed. “And I do hope that Lady Claire wasn’t too hurt by his actions.”
Leah frowned. “But it’s not as if I can be choosy right now, right?”
“I suppose not,” Celeste said, and she studied Leah’s face for a long moment. “And of course, I am livid for you. Nottington should not have interfered--because of him, you might end up married to that dreadful Lord Dubois. Although I still believe that Lucien would do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen. But…”
“But what?” Leah asked, her heart leaping.
“Well… I don’t want to see you married to someone unworthy of you. And Lord Dubois isn’t the only gentleman who could make for a terrible husband. So if Nottington is watching out for you, well then… I can’t say I blame him. I would want to watch out for you as well, if I could.”
Leah swallowed. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and she couldn’t quite speak for fear that her voice would come out hoarse. It meant a lot to her to hear Celeste say that. And if Celeste was defending Nottington’s actions, or at least showingher there was some validity to him, it did make her a little bit less angry at him.
A little bit .
“I think I’m going to go downstairs and see if I can find anything to eat,” she said, sliding off of Celeste’s bed and stretching. “I’m starving and still not at all tired.”
“Alright,” Celeste said, lifting her book again. “I’m going to read a little longer and then put out the candle. I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back up.”
“Don’t worry, get some sleep.” Leah kissed her sister’s cheek, then quietly slipped out the door and tiptoed her way along the corridor to the stairs, then down them, along the entrance hall to the servants’ staircase, and down again, to the kitchen. She wasn’t worried about getting caught--no one would mind if she was up and going to the kitchen--but she didn’t want to wake anyone. It was so late.
Which is why she was surprised, when she pushed open the door to the kitchen, to find she wasn’t the only person awake.
Standing at the large table in the center of the kitchen, cutting up several onions as if he were a cook, was the Duke of Nottington.
Leah froze in the doorway just as Nottington looked up. For a moment, neither of them said anything. He also froze, the knife he was holding suspended in mid-air. Leah was tempted toturn and walk away, to give him the cut direct. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a tentative step into the kitchen and looked around.
“Is it just you in here?” she asked.
“Just me,” he said. “I was hungry.”
“So was I.”
“I could have guessed that,” he said, grinning.
She gave him an exasperated look. “What are you even doing here?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be back at your own townhouse?”
“Your brother let me stay the night in one of the guestrooms. Why not? You have so many, and my house is so empty. It’s much more fun to stay here.”
“I feel as if I can’t be rid of you,” Leah complained, even as she came over to sit at the table. “I didn’t see you for years, and now you’re everywhere.”
