Page 81 of The Duke Says I Do
Portia sagged against Alaric in what she hoped was a convincing display of weakness. “I think…I think I’d rather just leave. Will you please make my apologies to Mrs. Bilson?”
“Of course,” Leighton said.
“Shall I request your carriage, Lady Portia?” Alaric asked.
Kate came up beside Portia and took her arm. “She came with us, so please ask for our coach.”
Alaric released Portia and bowed. “I hope you soon feel more the thing, my lady. I’ll call tomorrow afternoon to check on your welfare.”
“That’s very kind,” Portia stammered, performing a shaky curtsy. It might be kind, but it wasn’t a good idea. He’d never called on her before. After their dance tonight, it would cause talk. Everything that they did risked unwelcome notice. She hated it. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
“Nonetheless I’d like to reassure myself.” Alaric bowed to the Shelburns. “My lady. My lord.”
Portia struggled not to watch him stride away through the crowd. “I’m sorry to be a nuisance,” she said to Kate.
Kate put her arm around her and helped her toward the double doors leading to the stairs. People assembled for the next dance, so nobody paid attention to two ladies making for the exit. “You’ll be yourself in no time. Send me a note in the morning and tell me how you are.”
Alaric waited downstairs. “The coach should be here soon. One of Mrs. Bilson’s maids will accompany you, Lady Portia.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Portia said. “You’re very thoughtful.”
He was. She’d learned to appreciate his attention to detail when he’d spent three glorious days making love to her. He bowed again and left them alone in the foyer, apart from two silent footmen at the door.
“Shall I come home with you?” Kate asked. “You’re looking rather flushed.”
Without doubt, she was. She was in a flurry of anticipation at the prospect of seeing Alaric. “No need to spoil your evening. It’s just across the square. The maid is chaperone enough for such a short trip.”
“Very well.”
To Portia’s relief, Kate only spoke about trivialities before the carriage rolled up. How pretty and happy Lily looked. The extravagant ruby ring that Alexander had given his fiancée. Lady Colville’s daring gown. The massed lilies adorning the room, a compliment to the daughter of the house.
Portia had feared that Kate might subject her to another inquisition about the Duke of Granville. Only when she settled into the carriage, a shy Irish maid sitting opposite, did it occur to her that Kate’s silence on the subject of Alaric made a stronger statement than a barrage of questions.
Chapter 20
The Duke of Granville’s early departure from the ball would rouse little curiosity. A man of his rank often called on several different events over any night to lend his consequence to more than one hostess.
But if the duke followed Portia too quickly, some sharp-eyed observer might note the coincidence. Despite his blood rushing at the thought of seeing Portia alone, he lingered to chat to a few political cronies, he partnered an incandescently happy Lily Bilson in a contredanse, and he made sure to appear in no particular hurry when he strolled out of the Bilsons’ house half an hour after Portia’s exit.
Behind him, the ball continued, a triumph for Mrs. Bilson and a memorable celebration for the engaged couple. Ahead was a rendezvous with the woman who occupied his every thought. He knew that he’d got the better end of the deal.
It wouldn’t do for anyone to see the dignified Duke of Granville running through the streets of Mayfair. Once he was outside, and only with difficulty, he restrained himself to a swift, purposeful walk, even as his heart thundered like a whole battalion of drummers.
When he reached Dempster House, he even realized that he had the perfect excuse for staying out as long as he liked.
“Your…Your Grace,” Matty said in shock, as Granville loomed out of the lamplit gloom. Jupiter let out a joyful yip and strained at the leash clutched in the lad’s hand.
“Good evening, Matty.” Two streetlamps stood near the front door, so it was easy to read the expressions on both the boy’s and the dog’s faces.
The boy performed a shaky bow. He wasn’t quite as overawed in his employer’s presence as he used to be, but he wasn’t yet at ease. “Sir.”
Granville gestured to Jupiter. “Sit.”
Jupiter sat, his attention riveted on Granville. He’d been in alt ever since Granville’s return to London this afternoon. He put up with Matty because he had to, but his heart was set on his master. Despite that master not taking any nonsense. Granville remained surprised at how fast he and his unconventional pet had established a perfect understanding.
“I’ll walk him tonight. I feel like a stroll.” Granville extended a gloved hand. “You get off to bed.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Matty passed the lead across. “It’s a fine evening.”
