Page 18 of If the Duke Dares
He shrugged. “Since they were lying about where you were—and why—I determined something was afoot. It occurred to me that you may be running away from them. And that they didn’t seem overly concerned.” He frowned. That bothered him, and while he knew what it was like to have a parent who didn’t seem to care for him, he’d had one, his father, who had.
“I traveled with them to Cirencester. I’d intended to accompany them to Loxley Court, however, I realized I just couldn’t be forced into marriage, so I left. The earliest coach leaving Cirencester came here to Gloucester.”
“But you hadn’t even yet determined if we would suit.”
She looked at him as if he were a slug sliming its way across her beloved garden. “I know enough about you to bequite certainwe will not. In any case, I left them a note that I was returning home.”
“But you did not.”
“No,” she said hesitantly. “I had some…mishaps.”
“I see.” He didn’t, but decided pressing her about those now would be a mishap of its own.
What he did see was that her parents had continued on to Loxley Court after she’d departed their company. They likely expected her to do what she’d said and return home. Even so, they ought to have followed her there. One just didn’t let an unaccompanied young woman travel about alone. Which was why Acton had come looking for her.
She abruptly pivoted and started walking once more. “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. It’s none of your affair.”
“I maintain itismy concern since my mother asked me to consider taking you as my duchess.”
She snorted. “I amnotconsidering you as anything other than an unpleasant memory.”
“I gathered that after you doused me with Madeira,” he said wryly. He looked about as they walked. “Where are we going?”
“Also none of your business.”
“I’ll just accompany you, so I’ll find out eventually.” He watched her jaw clench.
“You’re a tyrant.” She turned the corner onto a street with several older, run-down buildings.
“I’m not demanding you marry anyone,” he said affably.
“No, only that I suffer your company.” She stopped again and gave him a weary look. “Can you please leave me alone?”
Without waiting for him to answer, she looked up and down the street, then crossed. Acton hurried to join her on the other side. “No, I cannot. You may not believe that bad things can happen to you, but what if they did?”
She cast him a hooded glance. “Bad things such as a rogue trying to seduce me at an inn?”
“Worse. A degenerate assaulting you and not taking no for an answer.”
She walked a few more feet, then stopped in front of a dilapidated inn. A sign with black ivy hung crookedly over the door.
He wrinkled his nose. “Is this where you’re staying?”
“Not all of us are wealthy dukes.”
“The New Inn on the High Street where we met is very nice. You were able to afford it before.”
She bristled. “Well, I can’t now.”
Now he was more curious than ever about her “mishaps.” “I’ll pay for your room there—yourownroom.” He was fairly certain she would have accused him of trying to compromise her. Wasn’t that what rakes did?
Not Acton. At least he hadn’t yet. Hell, perhaps he really did need to stop being so forward with women. Most of his interactions were harmless—stolen kisses or touches and nothing more. That didn’t include his escapades at the Rogue’s Den. Which weren’t the best-kept secret.
Could his reputation prevent him from obtaining a bride? Perhaps he should reconsider his behavior.
He recalled the first time he’d heard someone mention his rakish reputation. He’d been in London for the Season when he was twenty-two. When he’d asked his father if he should try to curb his behavior, the duke had laughed and said, “You’re the heir to a dukedom. No one can dictate your behavior except me, and I see no problem with your activities, provided you arediscreet.” The message had been clear: do what you like, just don’t let anyone catch you doing anything untoward.
Acton suspected his father would tell him to stop worrying about Miss Barclay, that she wasn’t his responsibility. While that might be true, he couldn’t just turn his back on her. Perhaps that was because he understood what it was like to have a parent who didn’t seem to care.
