Page 34 of The Duchess in His Bed
“Thank you. May I escort you to the residence?”
“I suppose I’ve abandoned my guests long enough.” She slipped her arm around the one he offered.
“It’ll get easier,” he assured her.
“One can only hope.”
Chapter 10
He knew the moment she walked in that something was amiss, even with the damn mask keeping her expression from him. He could see it in the set of her jaw, the dimpling of her chin. When he reached her, before he could even touch her, she shook her head.
“I shouldn’t have come. I can’t do this tonight, and yet I wanted to see you.”
“What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.” Although he had his suspicions.
A quivering smile. “Would you come somewhere with me?”
“To the ends of the earth.” His immediate response took him off guard. It was not delivered in a flirtatious manner, but because he meant the words. He would contemplate that unsettling thought later.
A little huff of breath that might have passed for a laugh in other circumstances escaped her lips. “Not nearly that far. My carriage is down the street, waiting.”
“Then lead the way.”
He escorted her through the grand foyer, out the door, and onto the bricked walkway. Even with a destination in mind, she ambled slowly, her heels barely making a sound while they traversed as though she hadn’t the energy to lift her feet properly. She was saddened, melancholy, a woman quite possibly only a few days into her mourning period.
Either that or she was embarrassed and ashamed for falling apart in his arms the night before. But if that were the case, would she have returned?
When they neared the familiar black coach, the driver opened the door and she whispered something as he handed her up. Aiden resisted the urge to snap the man’s fingers in two. He was merely doing his job, but Aiden didn’t much like the notion of anyone touching her, which he knew was not at all rational. Following her inside, he settled on the seat opposite her, where he would remain until she indicated she wanted him beside her, holding her. Black curtains were drawn at the windows. A lit lamp inside provided him with the light by which to see her.
With a lurch the vehicle took off. Reaching up, she removed the mask and set it beside her on the seat. “No one is likely to see us where we are going.”
“Where would that be?”
“A cemetery. I do hope you’re not afraid of ghosts or hauntings.”
“I fear very little, sweetheart.” Not giving her what she required to be happy came to mind. “I’m going to take a wild guess here that you’re the Duchess of Lushing and the sorrow I sense coming from you has to do with the duke being laid to rest today.”
“How clever you are. Although I’m relieved that you figured it out because now you understand why it’s imperative no one else learn I’ve been to your club. I suppose you saw his obituary in theTimes.”
“No, actually. I went to see my sister, who told me her husband was spending the day engaged in somber business.”
“Of course. Thornley came to show his respect. You should know that I’d have welcomed your sister into my home had she come, although I was not at my best. I didn’t expect it all to hit me so hard. Lushing had always made it a point to be at my side when guests arrived, to greet them and make them feel welcome, and today I felt his absence keenly. It struck me that he would never be there again. For some reason tonight, I had an overwhelming urge to go to the cemetery. Naturally, Kit would accompany me tomorrow—”
“Kit?” Another man who might need his fingers broken.
Her smile was brief but soft. “Viscount Kittridge. He and Lushing were close. He oversaw matters today, the procession to the church, the service, the burial. Since women are discouraged from attending funerals—we are too delicate, you see—I sat in the parlor while ladies tried to comfort me, mostly by talking about your establishment.”
It might have been inappropriate but still he grinned. “All good, I hope.”
“Oh yes. Apparently, the relaxation room is just the thing. You’ve not shared that one with me.”
“I’ll put it on the list, although I suspect you’ll find it a trifle boring. Ladies lounge around while men rub their feet or brush their hair or massage their shoulders.”
He didn’t think she was really listening, as her attention was concentrated on her knotted hands, and he suspected that if he removed her gloves, he’d find her knuckles had turned white.
“My attire is entirely inappropriate for visiting my dead husband, but I couldn’t very well walk into your place in mourning black—it would have given me away. For some reason I can’t explain, once I left the residence, I had an immediate need to go see Lushing and decided to disturb you and take you from your work.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You’re grieving. I doubt you’re thinking at all, but I’m glad you came to me tonight.” More than he cared to admit.
