Page 11 of Bound to a Wicked Duke

“Wonderful news,” he murmured, nudging his knuckle just beneath her chin before he turned away. “Just don’t keep such secrets so long to yourself, hmm?”

Madeleine quickly nodded, even though she knew he could not see it.

Whistling a merry tune, the Earl disappeared into his study, closing the doors behind him.

Madeleine turned and grabbed ahold of the umbrella stand for support as she gathered her thoughts, breathing heavily in her anxiety.

“My Lady?” the butler, Gerald Greeves, questioned from behind her with concern in his voice. “Did your breakfast not agree with you?”

Madeleine shook her head as she steadied her breathing and her emotions, regaining her composure. “My apologies, Mr. Greeves. I appear to have taken a turn. Please do not make a fuss or tell anyone what you have seen here. I will be well momentarily.”

Greeves’ face creased further in concern, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “If it pleases you, My Lady, do go and lie down. I will have your lady’s maid bring you some tea. Do not fear. I will speak of it to no one.”

Appreciation for their longtime family servant swelled in her.

“Thank you, Mr. Greeves. You are a better man than most.”

Greeves smiled softly at the compliment. “We do try, My Lady.”

Madeleine returned his smile as best she could before retiring to her room. Lucy met her at the door of her bedchamber, having heard Madeleine coming down the hallway. “My Lady, did you change your mind about reading in the library?”

Madeleine had completely forgotten about her original destination when her father had stopped her to deliver his news. “I did,” Madeleine nodded. “I have decided to rest before this evening’s dinner.”

Lucy nodded, but her face said that she knew there was more to the statement than met the eye. “As you wish, My Lady.”

She helped Madeleine to disrobe and turned down the bedcovers for her to slip beneath the sheets. Madeleine crawled into bed and laid down on her side, staring out of the window. A flock of pigeons flew past at high speed. Shortly thereafter, a peregrine falcon followed. Seeing the falcon’s speed and strength reminded her of Percy.

“Percy!” she gasped, realizing she had never actually accepted his invitation. She sat up and scurried out of bed, running over to her writing desk to pull out a sheaf of parchment and dab her quill in ink.

“My Lady?” Lucy inquired; her eyes filled with concern.

“I must write to Percy and tell him of our courtship.”

“Your courtship?” Lucy’s tone heralded her confusion.

“Yes, Percival Hardy, the Duke of Greyhall and I are courting.”

“Does he not know of this, My Lady, that you must write to tell him so?” Her confusion was clear in her voice.

“He asked to court me. I did not give him an answer. I am answering him now.”

“I see,” Lucy’s tone stated that she did not actually understand anything that was going on, but she accepted her mistress’ word.

Madeleine hurriedly scribbled out a missive and sealed it with wax. She handed the letter to Lucy. “See that this is delivered to His Grace with all haste. Do not allow it to fall into anyone else’s hands. It must be placed by you into the hands of the Duke of Greyhall without delay. Return to me only when you have an answer. Do you understand?”

Lucy nodded her head, but there was a look of apprehension on her face.

“Are you certain that this is wise, My Lady?”

Madeleine shook her head. “No, I am not certain at all, but please do as I say.”

“Yes, My Lady,” Lucy replied nervously at the intrigue of it all, curtsied, then left the room with the missive clutched firmly in her hand.

Percy was returning to the stables after a long ride outside of the city when a young girl with hair and eyes the color of a mouse came running up beside him.

“Who might you be? You are not one of mine,” he said warily, noting immediately that she was not a member of his staff.

He took a wary look around, always on edge. It had been years since he had seen Laura, but he was no fool to think that hecould hide forever. The young woman before him was harmless, obviously, but if she were a distraction…

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