“You deserve a woman who loves you, Marcus, and she does.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I saw the way she looks at you. It’s very much in the same manner that Althea looks at Trewlove and Kathryn looks at me. She would fight to the death for you. And considering our family history, that’s the sort of woman you want to hold close.”
Chapter 29
Christmas Eve was Esme’s favorite night of the year, when the carolers were out singing, filling the air with hope and joy and love. She always spent the evening in her small home with its small lawn and gardens near the park where she’d brought Marcus that lovely afternoon eons ago. She’d almost shared her dwelling with him then, but she’d known a time would come when their paths would diverge, and it would be easier if he didn’t know where to find her.
She liked this area of London that Mick Trewlove had refurbished. The less affluent lived in the nearby town homes but as their fortunes increased, they were often able to move in to the larger ones he built. The more affluent resided, as she did, in homes with no one else’s walls touching theirs. But even those houses ranged in size from small like hers to grand.
But because she lived alone, she had no use for the larger dwellings. Not quite alone. Laddie was with her. He enjoyed the carolers as well. He would begin barking as their voices grew louder and he could smell their approach.
She opened the door to greet the group of half a dozen children lifting their voices to the heavens. Laddie rushed out, sniffed around their feet, and rushed back in. Snow was lightly falling. An inch or so had already gathered, painting everything in pristine white and making it seem so peaceful.
Her life had been much the same since Scotland. Serene. O’s position couldn’t be offered to a woman and so it had gone to Brewster, in spite of his lamenting he would do better as a butler. Esme had taken a much-needed respite from working in the shadows and striving to uncover traitors or those who wished to undermine the government. Her superiors were toying with the idea of sending her abroad. She rather liked that idea. It removed all temptation of showing up at Marcus’s door late at night when she missed him the most.
She had clandestinely watched him a few times: leaving his residence, attending the opera, riding through Hyde Park. If the articles written about the man who’d saved the Queen were any indication, he was settling well into his role of duke. It would be more difficult to read about him during the upcoming Season when the ladies would be vying for his attention in the hopes of becoming his duchess.
The carolers finished their song. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a handful of half crowns, gave one to each of the children, and wished them a happy Christmas. Murmuring joyfully, they began wandering over to the next house.
Closing the door, she picked up Laddie and walked into her parlor where only an hour earlier she’d finished decorating the small tree that sat on a table near the window. No gifts beneath the boughs, but then she’d already received the best gift of all: knowing that Marcus was back where he rightfully belonged.
She heard the next set of carolers coming up the street, their voices growing louder as they neared. She lowered Laddie to the floor. He scrambled to the front door, barking exuberantly. “These voices are a bit deeper, probably adults. I’m not certain they’ll be as happy with you sniffing about.”
Still, she opened the door and gave him his freedom. He bounded out and headed to one of the men at the back, who crouched and gave attention to her spaniel as he deserved. But there was something about the fellow that caused her heart to beat erratically. His head was bent, his beaver hat hiding his face, but the breadth of his shoulders, the size of his gloved hands, the grace with which he’d lowered himself—
Then he looked up, captured her gaze, and slowly straightened to his full height. Her heart nearly stammered to a stop and her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to draw in air. His blackouter coat molded perfectly over his broad shoulders. He wasn’t singing but she imagined his voice, deep and rich—
No one was singing. After reaching into her pocket, she began dispensing the half crowns. “That was lovely. Thank you. Happy Christmas.”
And then she waited, waited until the carolers wandered away and he remained. Waited as he strode forward until he was so close that she could smell the bergamot and spicy scent of him. Waited as he swept his hat from his head. “Hello, Esme.”
She curtsied. “Your Grace.”I expected you sooner.When she’d tried not to expect him at all. “It’s a bit nippy out here. Would you care for a bit of scotch to warm you before you go on your way caroling?”
“I wasn’t caroling. I just didn’t know if you’d open the door if you saw it was only me waiting out here.”
“I’ve never been a coward.”
“I beg to differ. You left without saying goodbye.”
“I thought it would be less painful.”
“You were wrong.” As though she didn’t bloody well know that. “But, yes, I’ll take that scotch.”
She led him into the parlor and carried on to the sideboard with its assortment of decanters, wishing her hands weren’t trembling as she poured them each a glass of the amber liquid.
“The Queen indicated you thought being a duke would suit me.”
Damn Victoria for not keeping secret that Esme had asked for the dukedom to be returned to him. “Based on what I’ve been able to gather from the articles that have appeared in the newspapers, I had the right of it, and it does suit you.”
He glanced around. “Was this residence a gift from Victoria?”
“No, I actually purchased it some time back. I reside here when I’m not needed elsewhere. How did you find me?”
“I have my ways.” He set down his glass on a table, removed his coat, and tossed it onto the sofa. She did wish he hadn’t done that. His clothes were perfectly tailored, a black jacket, white shirt, pristine white cravat, and a silk waistcoat of emerald green, no doubt a nod to the season. From inside his jacket, he retrieved what appeared to be a missive. “Something the Home Office needs to see. I was hoping you might be good enough to deliver it for me.”
So he was here because of her occupation. She was relieved. Immensely.Liar.
