“Lydia, I would not want to see you…hurt,” he said.
She paused with her back toward him, and there was tension in her body language that he didn’t understand. Was she upset at his confession? Was she fearful of consequences she would face, ones she didn’t want to share with him?
She looked at him at last and she had a smile so false that he almost flinched away from it. She leaned in and kissed him once more. “It isn’t your responsibility, Your Grace,” she said softly. “Good night.”
She left then, without so much as a backward glance. He did nothing to stop her, partly because he realized he couldn’t. Partly because he wasn’t exactly certain what he would do if he did. What would he say? She was not asking for help. He wasn’t even certain she needed it. And yet he was left with an uneasiness in his chest.
Like he’d just missed an opportunity that might never come again.
Chapter Nine
“Did you know that I heard a racket last night?”
Adelaide jerked her head up from the pretty pair of gloves she had been eyeing on the table in the dressmaker’s shop and stared at her aunt. Opal was worrying a necklace around her neck, her gaze wide and troubled.
“A racket?” she asked, and tried to sound nonchalant.
The racket, of course, had been her sneaking back into her aunt’s home after her wild and wonderful night with Graham. Normally her maid, one of the few people who knew the truth about her, greeted her at a set time after her shows. But since she had returned so late the girl had been forced to sit in the kitchen and had fallen asleep as she waited. When Adelaide had knocked, poor Rebecca had awoken with a start and toppled over a broom. The two had been forced to scurry away before they were caught.
“Yes, a crash in the kitchen after two in the morning,” Opal said. “I thought it was an intruder and I rang for Smith.”
“You woke Smith up?” Adelaide said, feeling very guilty for that fact. The kindly butler was already so put upon with Opal’s odd moods and occasional outbursts, she hated to think she’d caused him more grief.
“Of course I did. What was I to do, go down myself and be…” Opal dropped her voice so the shopkeep wouldn’t hear her. “…accostedin my kitchen?”
“No, Smith is better suited for that, isn’t he?” Adelaide muttered, and her aunt glared.
“It is what I pay him for, isn’t it?” Opal snapped.
Technically that was true, so Adelaide shrugged. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with her aunt at any rate. Digging deeper might only lead to trouble. “I assume he found nothing?”
Opal sighed, almost as if she were disappointed they hadn’t all been murdered in their beds by robbers. “No. A fallen broom, he thought, perhaps turned over by a mouse.”
“Then there is nothing to fear, is there?” Adelaide said with a false smile as relief washed over her. Once again she had somehow escaped detection. “The mystery is solved and all is well.”
Her aunt looked less than convinced, but before she could continue the conversation, a voice called out from across the shop. “Lady Adelaide!”
Adelaide turned toward it, but any happiness she had at being interrupted dissolved when she saw the owner of the voice that said her name. The Duchess of Crestwood was coming across the shop, her smile wide and her eyes locked on Adelaide.
Adelaide found herself shifting as the woman reached her, setting her shoulders back, widening her stance a little. Like they were going to battle. Ridiculous.
“Your Grace,” she said as calmly as she could. “How unexpected.”
The duchess tilted her head slightly and then turned her attention toward Adelaide’s chaperone. “Good afternoon. Lady Opal, isn’t it? What a lovely name.”
Opal actually looked impressed as she looked the duchess up and down, not that Adelaide could blame her. The woman exuded such confidence and grace, and it was well-known how much she was liked and respected in Society. Her marriage to Crestwood had changed that somewhat—people whispered, of course, but if anyone could overcome that, it would be this woman.
Graham was another story, though, and that made Adelaide push away any unexpected respect she felt for the duchess and harden herself.
“Lady Opal?” the shopkeeper said, motioning to the fabric her aunt had demanded he fetch from the back.
“Excuse me, won’t you?” Opal said, and Adelaide’s heart sank. Normally she did not mourn when her aunt walked away, but today she wanted to race after her.
Instead she turned back to find the duchess watching her, an appraising look on her face. “I’m so happy to see you again.”
Adelaide cleared her throat, uncertain how to proceed. “Thank you, Your Grace. Though I don’t know why.”
“Meg, truly you must call me Meg,” the duchess said. “And I’m pleased because I know you are a great friend of Emma’s and I adore her almost beyond reason. So wemustbe friends, mustn’t we?”
