Page 69 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“Very well.” Althea’s emotions were in a swirl. She understood what Damon was saying but was disappointed, nonetheless.

“Lock the door behind me. I doubt Browning would be brazen enough to break into our homes, but we must remain vigilant.”

“I agree.”

Damon looped his arm around her waist and brought her close, causing her to squeak at the suddenness. “Remember all I said,” he whispered huskily. “About wanting you in my life. I meant every word. I want you in my arms. In my bed. But only when we can discuss and accept what is happening between us. No other woman. Ever. Only—you.”

And with that, he picked up the strong box, turned, and exited the room.

Althea ran to the window and watched as he stepped onto the sidewalk as his carriage drew near. Damon stopped and looked up as if knowing she was standing in the window. He gave her a smile, then blew her a kiss.

Without thinking, she made a gesture as if catching it, then held her fist to her heart. Oh, yes, she was tumbling head over ears, heels, or whatever body part was involved in whatever idiom fit the situation.

Say the word, Althea.

“Love,” she murmured as the carriage pulled away. “I love him.”

Admitting to herself was hard enough.

Would she be brave enough to say it aloud to Damon?

Chapter 20

Leaving Althea was one of the hardest things Damon had ever done. However, there was too much going on—particularly with her health emergency—to complicate it with powerful emotions and the subsequent discussion. At least for a short while. When he stepped onto the sidewalk, he said inwardly: When I turn around, look at me. And Althea was watching him intently from the window above.

His heart soared, and it was still spiraling.

They all but said the word. Love. His heart was in his hand, all but offering it to Althea. But the admission of intense feelings was enough—for now.

Althea asked for time. And frankly, he should take that time to come to terms with his various issues before committing to anything permanent with Althea. It wasn’t as if he were doubting his feelings for her, far from it. Damon was falling in love, no question.

But Althea was not a woman to be rushed, and he respected her for it. Truthfully, he rarely acted impulsively, either. At least when it comes to emotions. The first time he saw Althea, it was as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. His feelings toward her simmered for months, growing in intensity with each encounter. It was more than physical. Much more. Too much had happened to deny or ignore this strange but not unwelcome transformation taking place inside of him.

But beyond all that, and considering he could be pessimistic with the best of them, Damon had the distinct feeling Althea’s health dilemma would work out satisfactorily. Whatever the consequence, he would love and support her. They could have a future; why not indeed?

The carriage pulled up in front of Clarendon Place, and he hopped out, the ledger and strong box tucked under his arm.

Kingsley greeted him at the door. “Your Grace, there is a police inspector here to see you. He insisted on waiting. Detective Evercreech. I placed him in your study with a tea tray.”

Evercreech?

Funny about fate, for Damon had been planning to go and see the detective tomorrow. It’s the reason he had taken the ledger. “How long has he been here?”

“Close to an hour, Your Grace.”

“I will see him alone.”

“There is a number of correspondences on your desk, including a letter from the duchess.”

Damon handed Kingsley the iron case. “Thank you. I am not to be disturbed. Take this strong box and place it in my safe after the detective departs. Do not allow it to leave your sight.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Damon entered the study, closing the door behind him. Evercreech, holding a teacup in his hand, started to stand.

“Please, stay seated.” Damon strode over to the tea tray on the sideboard, placed the ledger next to it, then poured himself a cup of tea. The pot sat on a candle warmer, so the beverage was at least tepid. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

“You are a hard man to pin down, Your Grace. I have been by a few times the past ten days or so.”