Page 13 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
“Maybe it’s best we go home, Tilly,” she said softly.
Tilly glanced around at the dispersing guests, then nodded.
“Thank you for defending us, Your Grace,” Edith whispered, before leading Tilly out of the ballroom.
The carriage came to a halt before the front door of their townhouse. With a grateful sigh, Edith disembarked and helped Tilly out of the carriage, her shoulders sagging with relief when the door opened and they stepped into their home.
“I think we both need some warm milk after that,” Edith suggested softly.
“Lady Nealton,” Tilly murmured as Edith led her to the parlor, “those people were so rude. Was it because of me?”
Edith hesitated, then shook her head. “Of course not, Tilly. They were rude because that was their choice. It was not anything you caused.”
“If you say so,” Tilly mumbled, her face downcast.
A discreet throat-clearing at the parlor door drew their attention.
The butler stood in the doorway, his expression grave. “My Lady, the Duke of Alderbourne wishes to speak to you.”
“He’s here?” Edith asked.
The butler nodded. “He arrived only a moment after you, my lady.”
“Is he the man who defended us?” Tilly asked.
“Why don’t you go to bed, Tilly? You’ve had a long night. I’ll send one of the maids up with your milk,” Edith said gently.
Tilly frowned, but then nodded and stepped toward the stairs.
Edith watched her climb the stairs, then braced herself for the Duke’s appearance. After a few moments, the butler led him into the parlor. As soon as their eyes met, she felt her pulse quicken.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said carefully.
Laurence nodded and walked toward her. “Good evening, indeed,” he returned softly.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. He was watching her, appraising her. Not like a handler judging a show horse, but like a predator assessing its prey, deciding whether the chase was worth it.
Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he turned away and settled into a nearby chair.
Edith drew a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. His proximity and his piercing gaze had rattled her, and her cheeks felt unnaturally warm.
“Your Grace, if I may inquire, why are you here?” Edith asked as she seated herself across from him.
“How old is Tilly?”
Edith frowned. “Why do you care to know?”
“I am simply interested in the girl’s welfare.”
Edith bristled slightly. “Her welfare is my responsibility, and it is one I take seriously, Your Grace.”
The Duke frowned, rose from his seat, and walked over to her. He leaned in and locked eyes with her.
The retort she had intended to deliver died in her throat. No one had ever looked at her like that, so intent and unrelenting. His gaze could consume her, and perhaps she would let it.
“I can see you are protective of your young ward,” he murmured. “I am not here to cause either of you problems. In fact, I am here to offer my assistance.”
“Assistance?” Her breath hitched.
