“Shall I draw you a bath?”
The very image of soaking in a steaming tub was too heavenly to resist. “Yes, please.”
In short order, several footmen were summoned to bring steaming pails of water to her chamber where a copper tub was filled to the brim. As the housemaid helped her to undress, she began to show off all the wonderful accoutrements that the duke had purchased for her use. From a new dressing table set with silver combs and shiny new pins and perfume from Floris, she had never felt like such a princess. Too much of this luxury and she could get used to it.
What made it more special was knowing that Dominic did it all out of devotion. He might not have told her he loved her, buthis actions bespoke of a man besotted and she would take that offering and run with it.
As a long-sleeved lilac gown with embroidered yellow flowers was brought forth from the wardrobe, Lexie gasped at the beauty of such a garment. It was so much nicer than the bland shades that her aunt insisted that she wear. But she supposed as a betrothed woman, she had more freedoms than before.
Eagerly donning the soft, cotton undergarments and the silk stockings, she slid her feet into a new pair of leather slippers. Once the maid had pulled her hair back into a simple chignon, Lexie was shocked at the difference in the mirror. After trudging about in the wilderness and pretending to be a woman of the cloth in the East End, it was nice to be reminded of her true identity. If Dominic was nothing but a poor church mouse, she would not have cared in the least, but neither was she going to take such fine things for granted ever again.
At precisely half past ten, she was heading down the stairs.
Dominic was already waiting in the foyer in a three-caped greatcoat and a beaver hat in his grasp. She could tell by his movements that he was anxious to be on the move, but when he glanced up and spied her, all of that seemed to dissipate.
“I shall have to give the modiste a sizeable donation for her wonderful choice.” His gaze swept her from head to toe and she suddenly wished they had more time to be somewhere in private.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She offered a slight curtsy. “You are too kind.”
“Trust me, my reasons are purely selfish.” He leaned closer to whisper for her ears alone. “I will enjoy removing every stitch from your delectable body.”
Lexie’s breath caught as a footman came over and handed her a new fur lined cloak. As she walked out into the dreary, gray day, she hardly even noticed that rain still hung heavily in the air. She barely felt the cold as she threaded her arm through Dominic’s and he led her to his coach. But then the driver tipped his hat toher, as well as the familiar Runner sitting beside him. “It’s good to see you again, miss.”
Her mouth fell open slightly as she nodded in reply. She didn’t find her voice until Dominic joined her in the carriage and they set into motion. “So much has happened that I completely forgot to inquire if they made it safely away from the bandits.”
“Yes. All is well, although they have not yet forgiven their lack of duty where you were concerned.”
“It was not their fault they were outnumbered and caught by surprise. We all were.”
He tilted his head to the side. “It is good of you to be so forgiving.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she returned. “They are not to blame for the earl’s actions.”
Dominic inclined his head as they made the short journey to the private investigator’s office. As he helped her down, she asked, “Was there a reason he didn’t meet you at your townhouse?”
“I requested that we adjourn here,” he replied. “Thus far, all of our conversations have been by private messenger to ensure he wasn’t suspected of working with me. However, he wrote that it was necessary that we meet in person for what he had to share.”
“Oh, my. It must be rather imperative.”
His focus was intent as he said, “Let us hope so.”
Dominic had donnedhis best attire, ensuring that he looked the part of the duke as he entered the investigator’s office. It seemed to work, because the secretary behind the desk before a closed door looked up in near alarm. “Might I help you, sir?” the young man asked with a slight tremble to his tone.
“I am here to see Mr. Martin. I’m the Duke of Cuthbert. He is expecting me.”
“Oh… Of course. Go right in, Y-Your Grace.” He added a light bow for good measure and Dominic snorted at the action. It was the one thing he hadn’t missed while playing the part of Avalon. True, he was revered in the East End for his exploits with the Blue Boys, but he found it easier for people to talk to him on a singular level, to express their anger and frustrations when they believed he was one of them. As a duke, most people made a clear path for him and barely made eye contact, let alone carry on a normal conversation.
He took a breath and opened the door to the investigator’s office, hoping that the reception he received here would be different.
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
His mouth quirked upward when a hand lifted as a wiry haired man with gray hair hastily wrote something on a sheet of paper. When he was finished, he glanced up and set his wire rimmed spectacles to the side. His clothes were rumpled and he looked as though he had seen the bottom of a bottle one too many times, but his focus was clear when he welcomed Dominic. “Your Grace. Thank you for coming to see me. I realize your time is valuable, but I vow I will make it worth your while.” He waved a hand. “Please.” He seemed to come to his senses and realize that Dominic wasn’t alone because he added, “Good day, miss.”
She murmured an equal greeting in return. Dominic could read the question in the other man’s eyes as they sat down across from his cluttered desk and he shut the door behind them. In some sense, this office nearly mirrored the one Avalon used and it made him want to smile, because it proved that Mr. Martin might know what he was doing after all. “Feel free to speak freely in front of Miss Givenwald. She is soon to be my duchess, although we have not yet had time to properly announce our betrothal.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Ah, my felicitations to you both.” As he resettled himself at his desk, his wooden chair squeaked withprotest, as though it had witnessed many days such as this in the past. Dominic waited patiently for him to return his spectacles to his face and gather the information he needed. “Yes, yes. Here we are.” He handed a paper to Dominic, which he accepted. Glancing at the paper, he had no need to read it because Mr. Martin explained everything in great detail. “That is the official death record of the previous Earl of Lindley in the private care of an asylum by the name of?—”
“I am aware of the previous earl’s madness,” Dominic interrupted. “His personal trials are not what I asked you to investigate.”
