She pouted her lips, tempting fate, but he did not close the gap between them. Instead, he hooked his fingers under her chin and brushed his thumb over the corner of her lip.
“You have sugar on your face,” he chuckled darkly, before turning and walking away.
Adelaide stared down the empty lane long after he had gone. Then, she quickly wiped her mouth, certain that he cheeks were scarlet.
“Are you all right, My Lady?” Rose asked. “That was awful.”
“It was positively dreadful, yet I cannot help but feel as though it could have been far worse.”
“I dare say that it would have been, had His Grace not appeared. He is certainly… well, he has a presence about him.”
“Dukes often do. Come, we ought to return home. Do we have everything?”
Miraculously, they did, so they hurried home.
Adelaide tried to blame her racing pulse on their quick pace, but she knew the truth. Her heart was racing in part because of her unfortunate encounter with Mr. Hargrave, but mostly because she was thinking about her rescuer.
The Duke had saved her, and he had ensured that Mr. Hargrave would not trouble her again. He had made her return to London even easier.
She could not believe her good fortune.
At last, she would be able to re-enter society and be herself, and if Mr. Hargrave dared to harass her, she would simply write to the Duke just as he had told her to. He was her savior, and she could not thank him enough.
Then, she realized just what a spectacle it had been, and she turned pale.
CHAPTER 3
Cassian did not intend to become a hero.
The last thing he wanted was to become notorious for being a valorant gentleman, for the expectations were too high for him to reach. He preferred a quiet life, one where he did not have to answer to anyone. He was a duke, and he wanted to make the most of that by being left alone.
And yet, when he saw how terrified the young lady was, he could not help himself.
He knew, as he waited at the Home Office the following day, that it was not a reasonable excuse for collaring Mr. Hargrave the way he had. They would not care that she was in danger, nor that Cassian had not had time to think. He had been aggressive, and that meant he was in the wrong.
Mr. Hargrave’s smarmy look when they entered the room was proof enough that he reveled in it, even if his face was bruised.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” the officer greeted.
“Might we get this over with? I have affairs to attend to.”
“Be that as it may, Your Grace, this gentleman claims you have attacked him unprovoked, and as you can see, he is injured.”
“I did not cause those injuries,” Cassian insisted. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“You were seen chasing him yesterday. You followed him down a darkened lane.”
“Yes, but I did not—” Cassian stopped himself.
He knew his reputation preceded him and that he was not the most respected man. His stature certainly did little to dispel the claims that he was violent and volatile, and faced with a man who was perceived to be the exact opposite, he did not stand a chance.
“Might we discuss this in private?” the officer asked.
Cassian nodded, following him into another room.
“Sir, if I may, that man is a liar. He was the one chasing a young lady, and I merely collared him so that he would release her. I did not cause those injuries.”
“And I am inclined to believe you, but I am in a difficult position. With everything that’s being said about you, we need to launch a formal inquiry.”
