She did something to him, this woman. It did not seem to matter that she was Lord Holmwood’s daughter, the daughter of the very man he had every reason in the world to hate. He was still entranced by her.
He remained there for a short moment longer, indulging in the fantasy while he could. It had been several years since he last had a woman to himself. He wondered what it would be like tokiss her, to mold their lips together, to indulge and taste that pleasure—
There came a sharp rap at the door.
Seth took hold of Charity’s hand and brushed it off his lapel. She groaned in her sleep, then fell still once again. Seth smiled a little as he retreated from her, moving toward the door.
He opened it wide to find the butler standing there, nervously fidgeting with his hands again. On either side of him appeared Seth’s two loyal hounds, Rufus and Shelby. The latter, a greyhound, barked loudly and wagged his tail, excited to see Seth again.
“Shh,” Seth pleaded and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He led Shelby and Rufus down the corridor, petting them and urging them to stay quiet as Bates followed.
“He is growing most impatient, Your Grace,” Bates said restively. “He is calling on you every few minutes.”
“Luke? Well, he is not the most patient of men, I suppose.” Seth rather thought they were two of a kind. He was not patient either. Maybe at one time, he had been, when he was a child, but every good feeling, every virtue he may have once possessed came crashing down when he was just seventeen years old. “Well, rest easy, old man, I’ll go and see him now. Please ensure when Lady Charity wakes in the morning, she has everything she needs.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Yet Bates glanced toward the closed chamber door with even more agitation than earlier, wringing his hands together in concern.
“Come, boys,” Seth tugged on Shelby and Rufus’ collars, urging them to follow him down the corridor. At the top of the stairs, he hesitated and looked back in the direction of Lady Charity’s chamber one last time.
This was certainly not how I expected my day to conclude. A fruitless search, and returning with Holmwood’s daughter.
He did not want Luke to know. What would Luke say if he had seen Seth carry her inside?
“Monty.” Seth nodded at Luke’s right-hand man. The footman stood like some sort of sentry outside of Seth’s office, giving Shelby and Rufus a suspicious glare as they passed. The dogs grew interested in their guest though and stayed beside him, sniffing around his legs.
“Your Grace.” Monty bowed his head, his manner as surly and glum as it ordinarily was.
Seth opened the door of his study and stepped inside, leaving the dogs behind. Luke Baxter looked up from the wing-backed armchair where he sat, restlessly drumming his fingers across his thigh.
“There you are, good man!” he declared as he shot to his feet. “Where have you been then? I heard the carriage rolling down the drive almost half an hour ago. Even had to find some distractions in the meantime.”
“That I see.” Seth sighed heavily when he noticed some papers upturned on his escritoire. Luke had never considered there was much of a boundary between the pair of them. As old friends as they were, bonded over something tragic they both shared, Seth still occasionally was irked by the liberties Luke took.
He picked up one of the invitations on Seth’s desk now and raised it in the air.
“You are ignoring invitations.”
“You know I have done so for years.”
“Even from this old friend of yours? The Earl of… Lexham, was it?”
Oliver sent an invitation?
Curiosity piqued, Seth stepped forward and snatched the invitation from Luke, shuffling around the desk to read it better in the glowing light of the night sky. Much to his credit, Oliver still sent invitations, albeit once in a blue moon, despite how many years it had been since they had last spoken.
When they were children, they had grown up side by side, for their fathers owned neighboring estates in Axfordshire. Yet when Seth had inherited the dukedom early, far younger than any of them had expected, he and Oliver had gradually drifted apart.
In spite of it all, Seth continued to keep an eye on his friend. He knew through the gossip of the staff that Oliver was now happily married and fond of holding events. He was popular, adored by the ton, and from everything else Seth had heard, happy too. He was content for his friend, and even a little envious. It would have been a good life to be as comfortable as Oliver was now.
“You live like a hermit,” Luke continued as if reading his thoughts, perching back in the armchair. “You should accept some of these invitations. Leave this place more. Devil knows it would do you some good. ”
“Youknowwhy I cannot,” Seth murmured as he clapped the invite back down on the desk.
“And where have you been all night?”
“Where do you think?” Seth asked, jerking his chin up to connect his gaze with Luke’s. The dark eyes of Luke were rather intense at times, but then they would soften with easy laughter when tension would dissipate. “I attended Lord Holmwood’s ball myself, as you would not.”
“You know I could not go. I told you as much. I was sick.”
