Gerard lifted his face from the depths of her skirt and looked up at her. “How did that feel?”
“Oh, Gerard! That was the most incredible sensation I have ever felt!” Ellen panted.
“I only aim to please, My Lady,” Gerard grinned. “And in good time too. We have almost arrived at your home.”
“Oh—” Ellen replied, looking outside. In truth, the house was only a few yards away.
“You should adjust your clothing,” Gerard said.
“Yes,” Ellen replied and began to adjust her chemise. The carriage rolled to a stop.
“Have we arrived already?” Ellen asked.
“No, I do not know why we stopped. Let me check on—”
The door flung open before the Earl could complete his statement. The Duke of Grant peered in with shock — his sister’s disheveled appearance told him all he needed to know.
“Andrew!” Ellen gasped. “I can explain.”
The Duke clenched his jaw painfully. “Save it for the wedding.”
ChapterThirteen
Andrew had contemplated a lot to say on his way to see Ellen at Marjorie’s. He thought of the best way to approach her, so she would not shun him, but nothing came to mind. To be candid, the Duke dreaded visiting her. His relationship with Marjorie had been strained for a while. She had been acting strangely, refusing to see him when he called on her and sending servants to inform him that she was ill and was not taking visitors.
Regardless, Andrew rushed quickly to the door of Conolly Manor and knocked. The butler, Matthew, answered the door and promptly informed him that Lady Marjorie was still sick and bedridden, and once again, she was not receiving any visitors.
“What of my sister?” Andrew asked. “She should have arrived a few minutes ago.”
The butler looked confused. “Lady Ellen?”
“Yes,” Andrew said urgently.
“The lady has not been here for a while, Your Grace,” Matthew replied.
“You mean Lady Ellen has not come here today?”
“That is correct, Your Grace.”
Andrew contemplated the fact that Ellen and Marjorie could have conspired to not let him know of her whereabouts, but the butler looked genuinely confused.
Which left him with only one option as to her whereabouts. An option that made him uneasy. Andrew immediately jumped on his horse again, and this time, he rode in the direction that led outside London. If he was right, then his sister would be ruined forever. Although he considered Gerard to be an honorable man, he would be damned if he left the Earl of Ridlington and his naïve sister unchaperoned for so long that members of thetongot wind of it.
As Andrew spurred his horse on to run faster, he sighted the Ridlington carriage in the distance heading toward his Manor.
“Bloody hell,” Andrew cursed and chased after the carriage. He drew up next to the carriage and hailed the driver to stop before hurriedly dismounting from his horse and running to the side to fling the carriage door open.
Nothing could have prepared Andrew for the sight he met. He watched his sister trying to adjust her clothing, her eyes unfocused — the eyes of a woman who had just experienced the throes of passion. The Earl just sat there looking so smug. Andrew felt his blood boiling with fury.
“You bastard!” he charged for the Earl, but Ellen put herself in the middle.
“Andrew!” she gasped. “I can explain.”
“Save it for the wedding,” he replied.
“Nothing happened, Andrew. My honor is intact,” Ellen insisted.
Turning to face his sister, Andrew sneered, “Do you truly take me for a fool?”
