“Where to, Miss Dowell?”
Theodora took a deep breath in before she answered. “To Hawthorne House.”
* * *
“If you do not mind waiting in the parlor, I will let His Grace know you are here.”
Theodora and Mrs. Bellfry were led by a dainty older woman who she assumed was his housemaid into the Duke’s study to wait. Theodora looked around the room, taking in her surroundings. She always believed the devil was in the details and one could tell a lot about someone when they looked at their trappings.
“Good afternoon, Miss Dowell.” The Duke’s voice suddenly surrounded her.
She turned in surprise, not by his entrance, but because he didn’t use his normal nickname for her.
Since when do I appreciate the nickname?
Shaking the thought from her mind she looked past him. “Good afternoon, Your Grace. Is your sister coming?”
He grimaced and looked at Theodora’s maid. “If you would not mind, my cook is preparing a light meal for us. Would you go check to see when that will be ready?”
Theodora and her maid exchanged a look. Etiquette said this was highly inappropriate, but so was questioning a duke. With a slight bob, Mrs. Bellfry exited the room, leaving her alone with the Scarlet Duke.
Theodora was suddenly aware of her appearance, and she tried to stop wringing her hands in front of her. Her only solace was that the Duke’s sister should be joining them at any moment.
“Please have a seat.” He pointed to a chaise.
She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Where is your sister?”
He sighed, which seemed to pain him as his hand jolted to his side.
“She will not be joining us today.”
“I knew it!” Theodora said, her eyes widening. “You brought me here for nefarious reasons!” She proclaimed as she marched towards the door.
But the Duke blocked her exit. “No one is being nefarious,” he said, reaching out to stop her.
She gasped at the movement and he dropped his hands. His face drained of color from the apparent pain at his side.
Theodora stopped and looked at him. “What is wrong with you? You look hurt.” Concern washed over her.
A smile spread across his wicked face. “If I am, will you be my nurse?”
“It is quite impressive how you can go from diseased to rakish in a split second. Someone should study that.”
“Perhaps you—” He winced.
“Let me help?—”
“No!” He almost shouted and she flinched at the sound of his booming voice.
“I apologize, Miss Dowell. I do need your help, but it is not anything to do with me.”
Theodora stopped as she considered the man in front of her. He did look pained, but she was supposed to be meeting his sister, not playing his nursemaid.
“I am not a surgeon; I am not sure how I could be of service to you or your sister.” She sniffed.
Theodora watched as the Duke’s cravat bounced while he undoubtedly swallowed a scandalous remark.
“I assure you my physical health is fine, just a bruised rib that does not want to heal.”
