Page 10 of The Duke of My Desire

It wasn’t untrue, precisely. He truthfully wouldn’t mind a brief reprieve from his mother’s meddling.

“Why do you want to leave town?” She studied him over the rim of her tea cup, her expression still skeptical but curious, too.

Gregory hesitated, not wanting to lie. “It’s…complicated.”

A look of understanding crossed her face as she set down her cup. “Trouble with a woman?”

He huffed out a laugh. “You could say that.”

Of course, she didn’t know that the woman causing his trouble was not a lover but his mother, but Gregory saw no reason to volunteer that information.

Especially as his plan looked to be working.

She didn’t speak again for several seconds as she worked on her slice of toast, but she appeared to be giving his offer some serious thought, and when she met his gaze again, the suspicion in her eyes was gone.

“All right,” she said, a smile blooming on her lips. “In that case, Your Grace, I accept.”

Preparations for the trip took longer than Gregory would have liked, but there was much to do and the delay was unavoidable.

After breakfast, he ordered a bag packed and his plain black carriage readied for the trip then dashed off a note to his man of affairs letting him know their meeting would be postponed until his return.

Lady Dunne, of course, would need her own bag readied, but as she could not return to her townhouse for fear Lord Lovelace would be waiting there, they devised a plan to send one of his servants—dressed in plain garb—with a note for her maid, instructing her to pack a bag for her mistress.

The maid would then deliver the bag to a shop on Bond Street—which was apparently owned and operated by a friend of Lady Dunne’s—where it would be waiting for them to collect on their way out of London.

It was nearing the one o’clock hour when they finally set off, and as the carriage headed for Bond Street, Gregory wondered if they were perhaps being a trifle paranoid, but all he had to do was think of Lovelace’s hard eyes and he discarded the notion.

The man had looked capable of violence, and the last thing he wanted was a man like that following them.

The carriage wheels clattered noisily as they ambled up the street, though not noisy enough to drown out the wind whistling at the window, asking to come in.

Autumn had always been his favorite season. He loved the cool, crisp air, the changing leaves, the skies dotted with puffy clouds, buffeted by the wind like ships at sea.

His mother would not be pleased with him when she received the note he’d sent her. He’d told her he was going away for a few days, but he’d not said where.

He didn’t want her following them, either.

He knew what she’d say about all of this, that he was being foolish, that this wasn’t his concern, that he couldn’t help everyone who came to him with a problem. And perhaps she was right. Perhaps he should mind his own business. He was a duke with many responsibilities that kept him more than busy. He could have made arrangements for someone else to look after Lady Dunne. He could have ignored her altogether when he came upon her on the street that night.

But he hadn’t and he did not regret his decision. She’d needed his help that night and she needed his help now. He might be a duke, but he was also a man, a man with a conscience and the means and power to do some good in the world.

“Here we are,” Lady Dunne said as the carriage rolled to a stop outside a tidy little shop bearing a sign which read, in elegant script: Madame Adelasia’s Fashion Boutique.

Gregory passed his gaze over the storefront and surrounding pavement. There were carriages everywhere, and people, too, walking with packages, peering in windows, meeting on the pavement and pausing to chat.

“I do hope Betsy packed everything I’ll need,” Lady Dunne murmured. “My maid is a sweet girl, but she isn’t always the brightest penny in the purse. Perhaps I should have⁠—”

Her words cut off with a choking gasp and then she slumped low in her seat, dropping like an undercooked souffle.

“What are you doing?” Gregory asked.

“Get down,” she ordered in a hushed voice.

He did as she commanded, ducking beneath the window as best he could.

“What are we doing?” he tried again, this time in a whisper.

“We’re hiding, of course. I thought I saw Lord Lovelace.”