Page 94 of The Duke of a Thousand Desires

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Ravenna had not losther head. It would be dangerous to scream and risk arousing Kieran’s anger. He could take her life before anyone in the house came to her rescue. At least as long as he was here, he could not threaten Simon. He was desperate. She would not go into hysterics.

On the contrary, she resolved to conduct herself as would a well-trained duchess when faced with an unprecedented dilemma. After all, Simon had prepared her for this eventuality. His abundance of caution had been justified. He had done everything in his considerable power to guard her. As he had stated, she was not without resources.

Time was her friend. Time was her enemy. Surely Griffin would grow suspicious when she did not meet him for their reunion. Unless he had fallen asleep in Simon’s office. He had been traveling on and off for weeks, with an ailing infant, a chattering aunt, a wife and a dukedom of his own to maintain. Who could fault him for stealing a wink?

It was up to her to save herself.

“What do you want of me?” she coolly asked the man who had moved into the center of the room.

“Forgiveness,” he said and knelt unexpectedly at her feet. “I shot at your husband in London. You recognize me, don’t you?”

She concealed her alarm. “Not really.”

“I followed you when you were shopping with your manservant. I tried to work up the courage to talk to you then. But there were too many people about.”

“That was my maid,” she said. “You frightened her.”

“Then I regret that, too.” His eyes searched the room. “Where can I find his grace?”

She wasn’t about to admit that Simon might be gone until late tomorrow morning.

“This is a large estate,” she said, backing another step toward the bed. “I have not explored it myself in its entirety. I am not alone. My husband could be in one of the outbuildings. He isn’t in this room, obviously. Shall I call a servant to search for him?”

“The duke’s horse is gone from the stables.” He raised his head. “He is in imminent danger.”

“From you?” Make him explain, she thought. Maintain the conversation. Pretend he is an offensive dowager one had to cosset. Someone had to come. “You meant to kill him in my cousin’s garden. And tonight you will try again.”

“Your grace, you do not understand. I have no reason to harm you or your husband. I loved his sister even though I brought about her death. It is the earl who has sworn to kill your husband. Lord Bruxton has threatened to obtain a warrant for my arrest. As an Irish servant, I will not make it to gaol alive. But if I can save the duke’s life, I’ll have begun to repay my debt to Susannah. May I explain?”

She heard a footstep outside the room. Had Kieran noticed it? Yes. He glanced briefly to the door. “Explain,” she said, reaching back across the coverlet. She raised the pistol steadily to his head. “Tell me your story, but lift your hands slowly to your shoulders and do not move again. I believe that I am a better shot than you are.”

Home.

At last.

No sooner had Simon and Rhys slowed their lathered horses in the darkened yard than Timpkins flew out of the stables, his hair askew.

“He is here, your grace,” he said, gasping between each word of his outburst. “The duchess has asked that you not panic. She is safe in her brother’s care. Or perhaps it is the other way around. I do not quite know the chain of events.”

Simon slid to the ground, ignoring the stiffness in his back. She is safe. Those were the three words that counted most. “Who is here?”

Timpkins caught the reins in his hand. “The earl’s groom.”

Before the harried steward could offer further reassurance, Rhys had dismounted behind Simon. Together they broke into a hard run for the house.

Simon reached the front steps first and charged into the hall. He was frantic, furious at himself for leaving Ravenna alone. In his haste he narrowly averted knocking a housemaid to her knees. She was agile and in better control of her senses than was her master. She straightened her frilled cap, curtsied at his distracted apology, and gestured past him to the door of the gold drawing room.

“They’re having tea in there, your grace. Would you like a fresh pot?” She dropped another curtsy as Rhys strode into her view, his blue eyes wild.

Simon shook his head in confoundment. Had the maid misunderstood the danger to her mistress? “Tea? At this hour?” Then he realized he had no idea of the time. Was it still dark outside? Was that the moon or the sun that illuminated the hall? It was an enormous lamp.

“Your grace?” the maid prompted, backing away as if his disquietude embarrassed her.

He didn’t respond as he proceeded down the hall. Indeed, he needed several moments to collect his thoughts as he burst into the room. Even then he had to curb his impulse for physical violence at the sight of Kieran propped up in a chair as if he were an invited guest.

Ravenna did not clear up the misperception. She sat beside Griffin on the sofa. She appeared self-contained, serene in contrast to Simon’s internal turmoil. A tinge of rose touched her cheeks. Her curls looked uncombed. Aside from those becoming flaws and the pistol discreetly propped on her lap, she might have been holding a party for the local gentry, and not holding off an intruder, the very man who had threatened Simon’s life.