Page 53 of The Dueling Duchess

They could live like vagabonds, happy and free, just the two of them in their caravan.

Of course, he’d never made such a foolish suggestion.

But, in retrospect, it would have been better if he’d proffered that option, rather than the one he had ended up making to Cecile.

God. What a bloody mess he’d made of something beautiful.

And now, ironically, it seemed that he’d destroyed what they had for nothing.

Wasn’t life grand?

* * *

Cecile was wading through the endless paperwork that went with managing a theatrical company when the door to her office swung open.

Before she could chide the intruder for not knocking, she saw it was Blade and her raven, Angus, holding a copy of the Times.

Blade was holding the newspaper—not Angus. Although the bird could do almost everything else, so Cecile wouldn’t have been surprised if he read the newspaper, too.

The other woman’s unusual colorless eyes dropped to the newspaper that lay on the desk in front of Cecile. “Oh, I see you’ve already read it.” She turned to leave.

“Did you just come to say that and then leave?”

“Yes.”

Cecile sputtered.

“Why, what else am I supposed to do?” Blade asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

“You are supposed to comfort me! That is what friends do.”

“We’re friends?”

Cecile could only laugh. “Sit down.”

Blade shrugged and obeyed, tossing the newspaper onto the small end table before lowering herself into a chair.

Once she was seated, she reached up and scratched her raven’s head in a habitual gesture. The big black bird ruffled his neck feathers to allow better access, making cat-like purring noises as she stroked him.

“What do you want me to do?” Blade asked.

“I want you to comfort me,” she said, amused by Blade’s blank expression. “Surely you’ve heard of the word? I’m not a native English speaker and even I know it.”

“I don’t have any experience in that area,” she said, as if Cecile couldn’t have guessed as much.

“It is time for you to learn new skills.”

“I think you’d have better luck getting comfort from Angus.”

The raven quorked softly at the sound of his name.

“Besides, why should you need comforting?” Blade asked. “I thought you were done with Guy after we returned from France last year. What do you care if he is betrothed or not?”

“Pffft! You English have all the passion of a biscuit. You should comfort me because our love affair has now entered the ranks of true tragedy.”

“How is that?” Blade dropped her hand and Angus fluffed his feathers before settling them into a tight, glossy black shield. And then he tucked his huge head beneath his wing and went to sleep.

“Because it has transpired that Guy could have offered me an honorable arrangement, after all. But because he insulted me, we are forever separated instead.”