Page 56 of A Duke But No Gentleman
“I cannot go home,” she said, her shadowed gaze following his movements as he lit a candle and then moved to the wardrobe to search the drawers for a cloak.“I have little skill for deception, and besides, my dress—”
“I have a plan.”Tristan’s mind was racing as he weighed their options against the risks.
Where is that damn cloak?
He opened and shut drawers, revealing his frustration and impatience.He needed Imogene covered from head to toe.She was trembling as if she was cold so she would likely welcome the warmth of a thick cloth.It would also conceal her identity.If luck was on their side, no one would see them leave the house.
“If not my home, where will we go?Your private residence?”she said in disbelief.
Tristan had considered bringing her to his house.She would be safe there, but the risk of her being recognized increased.“Not that I would mind settling you in my residence, but I thought our goal was to avoid a scandal.”
“Then where?”
“My aunt’s house,” Tristan said decisively.He grunted with satisfaction when he pulled a cloak from one of the drawers.Draping the fabric over his arm, he picked up the candleholder and returned to her side.
Imogene was clutching one of the pillows to her chest.“Do you think it is wise to involve her?”
“She will be discreet,” he promised.“We could do worse for an ally.”
Tristan set the candle down, and shook out the cloak and wrapped the fabric around her.He refrained from telling her that his aunt would also insist that Imogene be examined by a physician to assess her injuries.There was no reason to heighten her fears.
Norgrave would have to be dealt with.Imogene was vehemently against having him hauled in front of a magistrate for his crimes, but there were other ways to punish the bastard, and Tristan was personally going to deliver the message.
Chapter Seventeen
Imogene was lost in a sea of misery and pain.
How amazing that it was Tristan, her beautiful and strong reluctant knight, who had emerged out of the darkness and wrapped his arms around her to stop her from slipping under the surface of the dark waters of despair, her mouth and lungs filling with the warm, salty liquid of her tears.He had kept her from drowning.
She loved him, and she hated him.Distrust twisted her wounded heart, but as he cradled her in his arms within the shadowed interior of the coach, she knew he was determined to save her.Her knight might be tarnished and his honor in shreds, but he understood duty.The need to protect her from further harm burned in him as brightly as his thirst for vengeance.He blamed himself for Lord Norgrave’s attack.Whether it was fair or not, a part of her blamed him, too.
“Are you still with me?”Tristan murmured into her hair.
“Y-yes,” she stammered, slipping her hand underneath his waistcoat until it splayed over his chest.In spite of his calm demeanor, his heart was pounding in his chest.
“Good.Hold on to the fact that you are strong—and brave.You’ll be in good hands under my aunt’s care.She’ll know what to do,” he vowed.
She did not know which one of them he was trying to convince.
Imogene closed her eyes, letting Tristan’s warmth sink into her body.She was so cold and there was a deep ache that seemed to radiate from her bones.Flashes of color exploded beneath her eyelids.At first the patterns were indistinct, and nonthreatening.Suddenly, the Marquess of Norgrave’s face came into focus.His normally genial expression hardened and twisted until she no longer recognized him.
“Will you tell Blackbern the truth?I wonder.Are you that brave?”
Imogene gasped and straightened, pushing the man holding her away.
“What is it?”Tristan demanded, his tone harsh because she had startled him.
“I…” She brought her hands to her face and took a few deep breaths.“I must have fallen asleep.It was just a dream.”
Tristan tentatively reached out and placed his hand on her back.When she didn’t flinch from his touch, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner.“More like a nightmare, I think.”He fell silent as he carefully chose his next words.“Darling, can you tell me about it?The dream.I do not expect that you are ready to talk about what happened in the house.Not yet anyway.”
Imogene wasn’t certain she would ever be able to speak of it.Her hands fell away from her face, revealing that her cheeks were dry.She had cried for so many hours, she did not know if she had any tears left.“I do not recall much.I was not even aware I was dreaming.I just sawhim.”
His hand rubbing her back froze.Tristan cleared his throat as if it was dry.“Norgrave?”
Imogene nodded.“I felt his breath on my face and I opened my eyes.He asked me a question and then I awoke.”She pulled the edges of the cloak together to banish the cold, but it didn’t help.
“What did the bastard say to you?”
