“Your Grace.”
He looked up to find Mr. Carrington standing on the back step, hands neatly clasped behind his back. The butler’s tone was as dry as a well-aged sherry. “Would you care to come inside for some… tea?”
At that moment, Lancelot bounded past the butler, his short legs working furiously, tongue lolling from one side of his mouth. The dog’s eyes were bright with welcome, tail wagging in an enthusiastic blur.
“Mais oui. I should be delighted.” Dash brushed the dirt from his trousers, crouched to give Lancelot a quick scratch behind the ears, then followed him inside.
The man had once been his father’s butler, and after the previous duke’s death had served Dash with the same discreet efficiency. Dash had rewarded that loyalty with a considerable raise when he’d asked Carrington to take on the position in Mrs. Bloomington’s household.
“My condolences on the passing of your duchess,” Carrington said as he ushered Dash into his small, immaculate office. The brandy he poured for them both came from his own supply—a mark of respect, perhaps, or a subtle reminder that this was his domain now.
Two years ago, Dash hadn’t given the man much of an explanation when he’d arrived in London after leaving Ambrosia behind. He’d only instructed Carrington to ensure she believed all the improvements to the house were part of her inheritance—and to see that she was neither cheated nor left too long to her own company.
Carrington, being English to the bone, hadn’t pressed for reasons. Instead, he’d discreetly suggested a few of the grand dames of Mayfair of whom Dash might enlist for assistance in that regard. Dash had scarcely had time to make his visits before duty had drawn him to Margate.
“She is doing well?” Dash dropped into the wooden chair opposite the butler’s desk. It wasn’t truly a question—but he wanted to hear the details from the man who’d been watching over her.
Carrington’s brows drew together, just slightly. “She is, Your Grace.”
The hesitation told Dash everything—the man was weighing loyalty to his current mistress against loyalty to the duke who still paid the larger portion of his wages.
“I won’t press you for anything I couldn’t discover myself by asking around town,” Dash said evenly. “But tell me—does she… entertain anyone? Is there an attachment?”
Carrington rolled his lips together, placing his clasped hands on his desk.
“There have been callers. Several so-called proper gentlemen, all of them appearing to have honorable intentions.” His pause was deliberate. “The only one to have held her interest…” His mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. “Is the Earl of Grimstead.”
Dash should not have been surprised. Mon dieu, he’d seen them. “Grimm.”
Carrington gave the smallest of nods. “Indeed, Your Grace. I needn’t remind you… his intentions are seldom what one would call honorable.”
Dash took a sharp inhale through his nostrils. The thought of Ashbourne Covington touching Dash’s princesse…
It made his gut churn.
He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and gestured toward the pen and inkwell on Carrington’s desk.
“May I?”
Carrington inclined his head, stepping aside.
A few minutes later, Dash blew lightly on the page before folding it again. “You’ll see that she gets this?”
The butler pressed his lips together, then gave a single, grave nod. “I will make sure it reaches her, Your Grace.”
Dash inclined his own head in thanks. She needed to know he was here—for her. That he wasn’t going to vanish this time.
You’re going to have to talk with me if you ever want to get rid of me, he’d written, signing it simply Dash, and beneath that, his house number and street.
It would hardly raise eyebrows for a widow to call upon a widower now, but would she?
At least she could find him. When she was ready.
He knew her. In all the time they’d been together, she’d not once played games with him. She’d been up front as to her feelings. Even when she’d told him she just wanted physical pleasure, he’d seen the sincerity in her face.
Dash had known that she would need more. He’d seen the love in her eyes, a love he’d ultimately denied them both.
But if she had once loved him, she would eventually talk with him.
