Page 10 of The Wallflower and the Duke
Because she needed his help. Because his best friend, the man she admittedly loved, had been a cad and stolen her work. Because she knew he would help because he was still as hopelessly and recklessly in love with her as he had been as a schoolboy.
Alfie folded his arms and turned his attention to the rear park of Hollyvale Manor. “What is this grand scheme of yours?” he asked at last.
“I want to go to London and make a scene. I want everyone to know he stole my manuscript.”
“Doing that may mean your true identity will be revealed. Are you willing to risk everything for one book?”
By some miracle, he didn’t turn as he heard her step closer, didn’t reach for her when she stood beside him, didn’t dare draw the back of his fist against her soft as silk cheek, or stare overly long at her perfect rose lips.
He remained still, watching over his estate, pretending as if he weren’t a prisoner to his own mind, stuck in this room, and feet away from the one woman he would do anything for.
But could he help her now?
CHAPTER 3
Marjorie awoke the next morning in her bedchamber to the faint sound of tapping against glass. She smiled to herself, sprang out of bed, and threw open the window as her raven flew in and perched beside her desk.
“Hello, Benny. My handsome boy. It’s been some time.”
She had left out presents for him yesterday, hoping he would realize she had returned.
Just then, the door opened, and her twin sister walked in, leaning heavy on her cane.
Emily had nearly died of smallpox until a doctor arrived at their London home and escorted her to their country home. It was a long recovery, and she still had difficulty with her sight and feeling in the left side of her body.
Emily had never returned to London. Their parents thought it best, considering the scarring.
“Oh, you and that bird,” she snapped, then settled into the armchair by a large open trunk.
“Benny is an excellent companion.”
“Birds have no business being kept inside.”
“Good thing he doesn’t live inside, then.” Marjorie turned and cooed at the beautiful bird. “He only comes to visit because he loves me so.”
“So does the duke, but he hasn’t shown up since you arrived.”
Marjorie stiffened, pulling her wrapper tight, pretending such a casual mention of Alfie didn’t affect her.
But it did.
She swore the ground had just shook beneath her feet. Or maybe her knees wobbled. Or maybe she had just jumped from bed too quickly.
Either way, climbing into his bedchamber yesterday might have done more harm than good. And she wasn’t sure he could help her when he was so thoroughly convinced he couldn’t help himself.
“Where have you been?” she asked her sister instead.
Emily wagged her eyebrows, folding her arms across her chest. “Assisting the good doctor.”
“Mother and Father will not be happy to learn of that.”
“It’s a good thing they’re otherwise occupied in London then, isn’t it?”
Wasn’t that the truth? Their mother loved many things in life, but minding after her daughters wasn’t one of them luckily.
“Besides,” Emily continued, “I could ask you the same. Except I know the answer. You were over with the duke yesterday.”
No bother denying it. Marjorie strode to her desk and shuffled through a few papers before turning. “Have you seen him since he returned from France?”
