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He looked at his duchess. “You should not wait for me. I’ll need to deal with something tonight, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He saw her disappointment. “Are we to dine separately tonight again?”
Regret twinged in his gut. He liked the newly established peace between them. He wanted to know more about her ambition for painting and about her childhood, and anything about her. But if this was about Lord Beckett, it may take a long while.
He stood up and went to her. Taking her hands in his, he had her stand and looked deep into her eyes. “Yes. But if you don’t mind, I might come to see you after dinner.”
“See me?” She frowned.
“Yes. In your chamber.”
“Oh…” Delicious color filled her cheeks.
He stepped closer to her and did what he’d ached to do since her father left. He brushed his knuckles against her jaw.
“You don’t mind…do you?” he asked.
Their eyes locked. Heavens, he could get lost in the depths of her blue-gray eyes, like the sea in a storm. Eternity passed before she answered, “I don’t mind.”
Lightness filled his stomach. He nodded, three of the most common words in the English language making his blood seethe and boil. Only because they came from her.
With Porter, he left the sitting room and went through the servants’ door, downstairs into the servants’ quarters. At the back door, he saw Noah, the servant from Tyche who had signed the testimony against Lord Beckett. He was a tall, scrawny young man with large eyes and an acute sense of honor. Preston guessed that was why the man had come to him; he couldn’t stand to see injustice done to an innocent man.
Only, Preston didn’t want justice. He wanted revenge.
“Your Grace,” said Noah by way of greeting.
“Are you all right?” asked Preston, looking the man over.
“I am, yes, Your Grace. Only, Lord Beckett went to see Mr. Eastbourne last night and told him one of his employees must be spying on the guests. Mr. Eastbourne started questioning us one by one. It won’t be long until he finds out I helped you. I don’t know how, but he will. He’s a dangerous man.”
Preston nodded. One of the most important principles of Tyche was secrecy, and Noah had broken it by coming to Preston. Eastbourne might punish him himself or he might go to court and have Noah tried for petty treason because he had betrayed his employer—a possible hanging offense.
Preston said, “Do not worry, Noah. I’ll protect you. Don’t return to Tyche.” He reached into his pocket and gave the man several bank notes. “I’ll arrange for a carriage, which will take you to Grandhampton. You will start working for me as a footman there. I’ll write to Mrs. Liddle, the housekeeper, and Harney, my butler there.”
Noah nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. I’m most grateful.”
“It’s quite all right. We knew it might come to this, but I will see that nothing happens to you.”
Preston nodded to man and turned to go and look for Porter, to ask him to arrange a carriage for Noah, when a figure came out from behind the corner of the servants’ hall.
His wife…pale, wide-eyed, and furious.
“What did that mean? Why does my papa search for a servant who spied on the guests of Tyche? And why did that man come to you?”
Anger hit him like a blast. She’d snooped after him! “Don’t you dare get into my private affairs. This does not concern you,” he said as he brushed past her.
“It’s my papa!” she cried after him. “Of course it concerns me!”
Part of him wanted to tell her everything. But he had to protect her from the truth. Her father was a bad man who had gotten Spencer killed.
“Trust me, Duchess,” he said. “It is best you don’t know. Not from me.”
“You know what, Your Grace?” she said with a bitter grimace on her face. “Do not come to my room tonight. Or ever.”
Her rejection stung him like a whip. Furious with her and yet unable to stop wanting her, he turned and marched back, glaring down at her. But she didn’t retreat.
“Ever, madam?” he said through gritted teeth. “May I remind you, the seven days I gave you are up. You will be mine tonight, however disconcerted you may be with me.”
