Page 5 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

Diana would have hissed at her and dragged her out the door had she been there.

My curiosity would definitely be the death of me one day.

“Who…” A kind-looking old man hurried down the steps, looking at her with wary eyes. “Who are you?”

She recognized him at once as the butler. His uniform and the air of importance around him gave that much away.

“I…” She paused, realizing that she had almost given away her identity. “Your master asked for me.”

She wasn’t exactly lying, but that wasn’t the truth of the matter.

The importance of the difference between the two didn’t seem to matter to the butler, who beamed with excitement.

“You are welcome, then.” He bowed his head. “His Grace is in his study. I shall inform him of your arrival. Would you like some tea while you wait?”

“There is no need, thank you.” She smiled. “I am sure he is already aware of my arrival.”

“In that case, I will show you to the study,” he offered. “I am sorry no one was present to welcome you. I hope you haven’t waited long?”

Her eyes had been busy taking in the décor in Colborne House, and she couldn’t help but admire the paintings—which, in their prime, would have been resplendent.

When she noticed the butler raising his eyebrows at her in question, she reddened.

“Forgive me,” she offered. “I am just intrigued by the Duke’s home.”

“You should see it once it is fully restored,” he said. “Watch your step here. The stairs still require some work.”

When they stopped outside the study, the smell of paper and ink wafted to her from the doors even before they were opened, and when they finally were, her eyes went wide at the imposing figure of the black-clad man standing by the window, facing away from them.

“Your Grace, you have a visitor,” the butler announced.

“I see that,” the Duke replied, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge their presence.

The butler bowed and stepped out of the room, leaving Louisa with the Duke, who radiated so much power that all her senses were warning her to flee.

She ran her eyes over the desk piled high with unopened correspondence, trying to spot her letter among the pile, but she was disappointed when she didn’t glimpse the coloured paper.

Could he have read it already?

She sincerely hoped not. She had already been embarrassed at the thought of Lord Pemberton reading it, and he hadn’t done it in front of her, where she could gauge his reaction. Considering how his ego had been bruised, she was sure he wouldn’t even bring it up again. If the Duke had read it, she didn’t dare to imagine just how embarrassed she would feel.

He had yet to acknowledge her presence, and she was irked. Curiosity gnawed at her. She itched to put a face to the mystery surrounding him, but he seemed perfectly content to wait.

Diana would no doubt be worried that some horrible fate had befallen her, and Louisa could already see a light drizzle starting through the window. She would have to leave soon if she were to arrive home before the storm gained strength.

She cleared her throat, as he still made no move to acknowledge her presence.

“I wonder what could have brought a gently bred lady to this dark part of London,” he mused. “I do not recall trespassing on private property being part of the lessons in etiquette.”

“I didn’t know anyone would be here,” she explained, knowing how weak her argument sounded.

“Surely the open gates were indication enough.”

“I shall be on my way, then,” she said stubbornly.

If the Duke had read her letter, he wouldn’t be inquiring about her presence in his home. Perhaps he thought her a brave gossipmonger looking to feed the flames. She would play ignorant if it was what it took for him to toss the letter into the fire, where she was sure the other correspondence would go if the ashes by the fireplace were any indication of his hobbies.

“Without this?” he said, holding her letter proudly in his hand.

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