Vincent’s blood froze—and his breath caught in his throat. “Do you remember what kind of horse this person was riding?”
“Of course, milord. It was a lovely animal. White and gray.”
Pegasus!His chest tightened and he couldn’t breathe. Elliehadbeen here.
Vincent swore and raked his fingers through his hair. “Dalton, I have to leave for a few hours. I’ll be back afterward, and we can work on cleaning up the ashes.”
He didn’t wait for a reply from the servant, and flew back into the house to quickly change his clothes. He couldn’t present himself to Ellie wearing these old rags.
Frantically, he rushed through everything as his mind scrambled to think of a way to convince Ellie nothing had happened between him and Candace. But how could he do that when she hadn’t stayed to watch him usher Candace out—and quite roughly, in fact?
The more he tried to think of the words, the more dread washed over him. Would she call off the wedding? Was that even an option since the duke had found them in a compromising situation? Vincent prayed the duke would still force his daughter to marry. Yet…he didn’t want to push Ellie to do anything she didn’t want to do. This must be her decision. Not her father’s.
Vincent dressed in a black coat and trousers with a gray vest over a pristine white shirt and cravat. He thought about taking his hat, but at the last minute decided against it. He didn’t want to have to worry about how to hold his hat when his main purpose was to use his hands—and lips, of course—when he begged Ellie to forgive him for not kicking Candace out of the house sooner.
The ride to the duke’s estate was tedious. He imagined the worst…and his heart couldn’t take it. He prayed she would give him the chance to explain what had really happened.
Just as he’d thought, the house was still. The windows still had drapes covering them, and none of the servants were out in the yard. When he took his horse to their stables, nobody greeted him.
Vincent dismounted and tied the reins of his horse around a post before taking long strides toward the manor. His first thought was to sneak in through one of the back doors, but he worried about being caught, so he made his way to the front door instead.
First, he tested the doorknob, but it was locked. Taking a deep breath for strength, he knocked. Several seconds turned into minutes, and he heard nothing from inside. Apparently, he’d come too early.
Grumbling, he walked away from the house to peer up at the windows again. Which one belonged to Ellie? If he had to scale a wall just to see her, he would.
A shadow crossed by one of the windows. Stepping closer, he studied that section of the manor. The drapes were open slightly, and as he watched, a woman’s form moved from inside. His heart skipped a beat.Ellie!
He counted the windows from the west side of the house before darting toward one of the side doors. Good fortune was on his side now, because it opened. Cautiously, he stepped inside the house and listened. The inside was just as silent as outside.
Vincent took soft steps toward the servants’ stairs and climbed up to the second level. If the servants were awake, he didn’t see them, thankfully. He counted doors until he reached the one that was Ellie’s room. Softly, he knocked.
From inside, footsteps padded on the floor, growing louder as they came toward the door. His heartbeat quickened. Vincent prayed he’d gotten the right room. He didn’t know how he would explain this to her stepmother if she happened to open the door instead.
Chapter Fifteen
Ellie’s eyes wereraw from crying, and although she hadn’t peered into a mirror lately, she would bet good money that they were also very red. She couldn’t sleep, but she didn’t want to stay awake, either. Her mind was full, and her soul had been shredded to pieces. All of this was too much to handle, but she didn’t have any other choice.
Once she’d reached her bedchambers last night—and after crying more—she thought about talking to her father. She didn’t know what to do. But she hesitated, because she didn’t know if Adam—Lord Calvin—wanted others to know his secret. Was he still a spy for the Crown? But she needed to tellsomeone, if only just to get it off her chest.
The knock at her door startled her. She’d been pacing most of the night, and nobody had come to check on her. Who could be coming to her room now? After last night’s party had continued until the wee hours of the morning, who could possibly be awake besides her? If it was her stepmother—which Ellie highly doubted—she wouldn’t allow her entrance into the room. That was a face she didn’t want to see, especially since Ellie was out of sorts.
She walked to the door and opened it slowly, wanting to see who was standing on the other side before she could open it fully. After all, she was still in her nightdress.
Vincent’s handsome, but deceitful, face came into her vision. Not believing she was seeing correctly, she blinked. His face had been in her mind most of the night, and apparently, it hadn’t left as she had wanted.
Inhaling sharply, she shook her head. Now was not the time—or the place—to speak with Vincent. “No—”
Panic sparked in his eyes, and he quickly pushed the door open and stepped inside. Anger replaced her sadness.
“How dare you?” she snapped.
“Shh…” He closed the door with his foot. “Ellie, I know I shouldn’t be here, but I had to come see you. This is an urgent matter. Forgive me for not waiting.”
“No, Vincent.” She swung away from him and folded her arms across her bosom. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “My precious, please talk to me. There has been a misunderstanding, and we need to discuss it.”
“Misunderstanding?” she shrieked, and spun around, facing him. She wanted to pummel his chest but refrained. “What is there to misunderstand? I saw you with Lady Livingston last night—the same night, let me remind you, thatweplanned to be together. The same night we had planned to give ourselves to each other. Or had you forgotten about that?”
