Page 66 of To Dare a Duke

Oh, my word, did you read today’s chapter? I can’t believe it. I never saw it coming!

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Bonnie Campbell to Miss Alice Dowd.

***

May 4th Mrs Charlton’s musical Soiree. Berkeley Square. London. 1814

Robert stiffened as he saw Minerva Butler moving towards him. His instinct was to cut her, to move away and concentrate on finding Prue among the hordes, but he wasn’t that cruel. Besides, Minerva might lead him to Prue, if her blasted mother wasn’t nearby.

“Good evening, your grace,” Minerva said, dipping an elegant curtsey.

“Miss Butler,” he said, his tone cautious. “Are you here with your family tonight?”

The young woman’s lips twitched a little. “My mother is deep in conversation with some old friends, as she didn’t know to expect you this evening. You are safe for the time being,” she said, making him smile at her honesty. “Prue isn’t with me, but… she is here, and I can take you to her.”

Robert let out a breath. “I would appreciate that.”

Minerva nodded and then hesitated, surprising him by reaching out and laying a hand on his arm. He forced himself not to snatch it away, realising at the last moment it was not a flirtatious move, but rather one of sympathy.

“I’m sorry for what I did. It was unfair of me to do that to you, and to Prue. I ought to have given her the chance to explain it herself but… I was angry.”

He shrugged, returning a twisted smile. “So was I.”

“She got it wrong,” she said, squeezing his arm. “She knows it, and she’s sorry. Sorrier than you perhaps realise. Did you know she’s….”

Robert’s breath seemed to catch as she hesitated, wishing she’d say the words he hoped for, but she shook her head and smiled.

“I think I’d better let her tell you. After all, she’s better with words than I am.”

“Very well,” he said, a drum beating in his chest, harder and faster than it should, sounding in his ears.

“You will give her a chance?” Minerva pressed, searching his face. “You’ll not… you’ll not be unkind to her?”

Robert shook his head, wondering if he was being a fool all over again. He’d let a woman destroy his life once before, forgiven her, and given her the chance to repeat her destruction, over and again. Was he about to fall into the same trap, to forgive a woman for rubbing his name into the dirt, and lay his heart on the line for her to trample in the same fashion?

There was no way to be certain. No guarantee. He could only follow his heart, even though he was no longer sure he could trust it, and even though he was scared to death.

“I just want to speak to her,” he said, surprised that his voice was steady when he was certain his hands were shaking. “I want to understand, but I’ll not make a scene, you have my word.”

Minerva nodded, and led him through the crowds. Everyone was staring and whispering, too many eyes full of condemnation. People parted before him as though a tiger prowled in their midst, liable to strike out at any moment. She’d done this, he reminded himself, only to deny it again. She had not. Lavinia had begun it; he’d made it worse. Prue had only raked over the coals of his dark past. She’d not caused it, only encouraged the flames to burn hot again.

He didn’t care about that. Not now. The only thing he cared about was the future, and if there was the possibility he had one. With her.

They crossed from the entrance hall into a room as crowded as all the others: too full, too much chatter, the entire house stuffy and too hot. It was claustrophobic and he longed to escape, longed to get away from all these bloody people and their judgement. Perhaps, if the conversation with Prue went the way he hoped….

Perhaps she’d escape with him?

To his amusement, Minerva hesitated beside a potted palm.

“Wait here a moment,” she said, and ducked behind it. A second later she reappeared, looking a little perplexed. “She was here a moment ago.”

Robert’s heart sank. “Did she know you were coming to speak to me?”

Minerva nodded, her hands clasped tightly together. “Please, don’t think she didn’t want to see you, but….”

“But?” Robert repeated, willing her to speak before his nerves gave his heart cause to stop from exhaustion.

“She’s drowning in guilt,” Minerva said with a little shrug. “I think I underestimated how badly. She might be too afraid to face you.” He watched as she scanned the crowds of people crammed about them with a sigh. “We must split up if we’re to have a chance of finding her.”