Page 28 of In Need of a Duke
“What’s happened?” he asked, his voice calm and icy.
“Stevens smelled smoke, investigated, and discovered your suits burning. We’ve put out the fire but your closet, Your Grace, is empty.”
“Why have my suits burned? Who did this?”
“No one has been up here, Your Grace. All the help has been accounted for.”
His stomach sank.
She wouldn’t.
The darling of London would never burn his suits.
“Where’s the duchess?”
The footman stood by the tub waving away the plumes of smoke. “No one has seen her since your brother left.”
“Where’s Susan?”
“She has been in the kitchen helping Cook, Your Grace.”
“Bring her to me. Now.”
His lip curled at the sight of the charred remains of his suits in the tub. The smoke burned his nostrils, and he strode to the window and opened it, letting in a large burst of cool February air.
The others stood around, staring at the duke expectantly. He drew in a breath before a slow exhale. “Clean the bathtub,” he barked at the footman. “Daniel, I want you to send word to the tailor in London and ask for a new wardrobe to be made immediately. Until then, find me what is here at Stonehurst that will be serviceable.”
“Your Grace?”
“I’ve no time to return to London, and it seems I’m in need of a new wardrobe.”
His valet nodded, bobbing his head several times as if working up the courage to speak. “Very well.”
Ian strode out of his washroom, through his bedroom, and banged on the door of the duchess’s dressing room. Instead of being locked, the door popped open under the force of his fist.
He stood at the threshold for a moment, surveying the room. Nothing seemed out of place, yet some…feelingtumbled around in his stomach.
Burned his suits.
Very well.
He scratched his jaw, inhaling once more, and instantly regrettedthe smell of her perfume. The sight of her things, the beautiful things she owned, turned his stomach.
For a long while, he had always considered Charlotte all sunshine, demure and innocent. And for a time after he left, he battled with himself, reckoning his love for her over her betrayal.
He clenched his fists before grabbing the chair beside her vanity and tossing it aside. Keeping her in his life was torture. She was like some secret, gnawing at his sanity, year after year.
Why did she seek to make this difficult? He only needed an heir.
Lie.
“Your Grace?” Susan’s voice called out. She rushed into the duchess’s room as Ian emerged.
“Where is she?”
“She is out riding.”
“Are you certain?”
