Page 43 of A Murder in Trinity Lane
“No fight, I promise,” he said gently. “Just a bit of pugilism. Practice, not battle.”
Petunia’s little face scrunched into a stern frown. “Youmustn’tget into fisticuffs. It’s undignified. And dangerous. What if something happened to you?” Her voice wobbled, and her lip began to tremble. Tears welled in her eyes.
Steele’s own softened at once. “Nothing will happen to me, little one,” he said, and this time, his voice dropped to a murmur meant only for her. “Not if I can help it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She sniffed. “Good. Because Rosie would besosad if you got hurt.”
His glance shifted toward me. “She would, would she?”
When our gazes locked across the room, I struggled to keep my expression composed and lifted my teacup to mask the heat rising in my cheeks.
Claire, who had been watching with a knowing sparkle in her eye, must have noticed my valiant attempt. Without missing a beat, she swept in to rescue me.
“Well, that settles it,” she said brightly. “His Grace must take greater care of himself, if only to avoid being scolded by a seven-year-old.”
Petunia puffed up with pride, clearly delighted to be included in such sweeping authority.
“Truly, Your Grace,” Claire continued, turning to Steele with a charming smile, “we cannot have you stumbling about London with bruised knuckles. What would the gossip columns say?”
Steele gave the faintest smile as he rose to his feet. “Something inaccurate, I imagine.”
Laughter rippled lightly through the room, and the attention shifted—just as Claire had intended—giving me enough time for my blush to recede.
Catching Claire’s eye, I offered the barest nod of gratitude. She returned it with a subtle smile and turned back to her tea as if nothing at all had happened. It was time to bring the charade to an end.
I rose, smoothing my skirts. “If you’ll excuse us, the Duke and I have some matters to attend to.”
Grandmother’s eyes sharpened. “Yes, so it would seem.”
Claire lifted her teacup with a grin. “Enjoy yourselves. Or at the very least—have a productive discussion.”
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for the gentle deflection.
I crossed the room to Steele’s side. Without a word, he offered his arm.
“Ladies. Rosehaven,” he said with a polite nod to the room.
In the next instant, we stepped into the corridor and out of sight.
Chapter
Seventeen
THE WEIGHT BENEATH THE SILENCE
The moment the door to the sitting room closed behind us, I turned to face him. “I’d appreciate the truth, please. And don’t fob me off with some nonsense like you did Petunia.”
Steele said nothing at first. He flexed his bruised hand once, then drew it behind his back as if to hide it. As if I hadn’t already seen it. “It’s nothing.”
I arched a brow. “I think I deserve more than ‘it’s nothing.’ What happened?”
His jaw ticked. “It wasn’t related to the investigation.”
Clearly, he would not speak of what caused such damage. “Fine,” I said, gathering myself. “Then let’s speak of something thatis. Please take a seat.”
