Page 42 of The Hero

Harry’s heart stuttered. “For what purpose?”

Her father shrugged. “I presumed he was taking the time and trouble to come here in person so that he might tell us what more, if anything, they have discovered concerning the mystery surrounding the death of the previous Duke of Plymouth. I assumed that was the reason, because one really does not question too deeply the actions of a man as toplofty as Oxford,” he added ruefully.

Harry intended doing so.

At the first opportunity.

* * *

Gideon had deliberately chosen to travel by carriage to Dunhill Manor. Not to delay his arrival there, although there was no denying it had done that, with him having had to stay overnight at a coaching inn rather than ride directly into Gloucestershire.

No, he had chosen to travel in his most prestigious ducal carriage because he had wished to arrive with all the pomp and splendor of the Oxford title on display. Literally, because the Oxford coat of arms was painted on the black lacquered doors of the carriage.

The display was for Henry Church, not his daughter, because Gideon knew Harry well enough to know she would not be impressed by the opulence of a carriage, even a ducal one.

As she had never been impressed by anything to do with him being a duke, he recalled with an affectionate smile.

From the first, Harry had teased and mocked him in a way no one else ever had.

It was both refreshing and unique.

It was, he acknowledged, Harry.

Gideon’s chest tightened at the thought of seeing her again, these past three weeks having passed with the speed of a snail. Moreover, a snail that had stopped to examine every leaf and blade of grass along its way.

But he would very shortly see her again. Be with her again. Hopefully hold her and kiss her.

His anticipation grew when, an hour later, his carriage turned onto the long driveway leading to Dunhill Manor.

That anticipation dimmed somewhat when, having been admitted to Dunhill Manor by the butler, a virago rushed down the wide staircase without a care for her own safety.

“Where have you been?” Harry demanded once she stood in front of him, without a care for the presence of the butler who had just taken Gideon’s hat and cane.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fierce with accusation, her breasts quickly rising and falling above the curved neckline of her pretty peach-colored gown.

It was not the greeting Gideon had been hoping for or imagined during these long weeks they had been apart. “Could we perhaps take this conversation somewhere more…private?”

Her eyes narrowed to sparkling blue slits, her hands resting on her hips as she continued to glare at him. “I have no intention of being ‘somewhere more private’ with you ever again!”

“I am sorry to hear that.” He reached out to grasp her arm. “Because I have every intention of the two of us talking together without an audience,” he added in warning.

“I will inform the earl of your arrival, Your Grace,” the butler told him smoothly before leaving Gideon and Harry alone in the vast entrance hall.

“A good fellow, that,” Gideon admired. “Your father should give him a raise in his wages.”

“You… He…” Harry spluttered with obvious outrage. “I have not seen nor heard from you for a full three weeks, and all you have to say to me is my father should increase Kilby’s wages!”

“I have much more to say to you than that,” Gideon assured her mildly. “But I would prefer to say it as I spank your bottom in the privacy of either your private parlor or bedchamber.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Spank my bottom?” Harry repeated, outraged. “How dare you even suggest such a thing? I will not allow…” The rest of what she would “not allow” was replaced by a squeak of surprise as she found herself thrown over one of Gideon’s wide shoulders.

“Direct me to your bedchamber,” he instructed. He held her in place as he walked up the stairs.

“I will not—”

“It is the third bedchamber on the left along the hallway at the top of the stairs,” her father called from down below.

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