“What is that?” Nicholas asked, coming down the steps.
“Something your friend George Elston asked me to fetch him when he learned I would be returning to London. It seems safer to send it back to Oxfordshire with you than by carrier.”
He launched the box in the air, and Nicholas caught it.
“Wedding bands,” Samuel tittered. “If I were a betting man—and Lord knows I am—I would wager he is planning on taking his giantess to wed.”
“He said no such thing to me.”
Nicholas flicked the box open.
Two gold bands. One larger than the other. On the inside, they bore the Elston name.
“But that seems the most natural progression of their courtship. Good for him.”
His brother arched a brow.
“The duchess really has changed you,” he quipped, before averting his eyes to the ground. “Am I to understand your rendezvous with Lady Harrow this afternoon was entirely innocent? I will castrate you if the duchess asks it.”
A laugh escaped Nicholas. “Entirely.”
“Good. How boring London has been without you.” Samuel clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. “Return to Oxford and fetch the duchess for me. Bring her to London. My sister-in-law should see Portman Square at least once in her life.”
Nicholas nodded, unsure what would happen once he arrived in Oxford.
He glanced down at George’s ring box.
I will know when I see her.
Arriving in Oxford the next day, Nicholas peered out of the carriage window as the town came into view. He stretched his legs in the footwell, weary from the long morning of travel. Their stop at the inn that night had been too short—but he wanted to return to Amelia as soon as possible.
The road to Riverside Court ran the length of the River Thames. It glittered in the pale evening light as they drove alongside it. The pines at the border of the property appeared on the horizon.
It was a strange homecoming. In essence, he was no different than when he had left.
And yet, something has changed within me,he thought, letting the velvet curtains fall shut again.The future seems uncertain… but hopeful.
The carriage parked in front of the manor’s entrance. Footmen exited immediately to retrieve the few belongings Nicholas had brought with him. He patted George’s ring box in his vest pocket as he hurried up the front steps.
The house was oddly quiet.
Nicholas turned as the butler approached. Beneath his mask of decorum, something flickered across the old man’s face.
“What?” Nicholas asked. “Has something happened? Is it Amelia?”
Panicked, he made for the stairs.
“Your Grace,” the butler called. “The duchess is not in residence.”
The words chilled him to the bone.
“Well, where is she?”
“Her Grace is paying a house call to Baron Spencer. She asked…” His lips formed a hard white line. “Shebeggedthat His Grace did not disturb her.”
“Disturb her?” he repeated, aghast. “What the devil has happened? Why was she allowed to leave?”
“I know why,” a voice came from behind them.
