Lucy Hunt smiled a little. Her unusually colored eyes flashed.
“May I offer you a drink, Your Grace?” he continued, sweeping an arm wide toward the sideboard.
“No, thank you, Captain.”
“More for me then,” he said. Blast. Had he just hiccupped? Bad form. “Tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Pleasure might have come out a bit more likepleather,but no matter. She knew what he meant. He stumbled over to the sideboard and splashed the last of the brandy into his glass. Bloody hell. The bottle was empty. He tipped it upside down and shook it, then tossed the empty bottle into the air. He tried to catch it but missed. It thudded on the carpet and rolled under the sideboard. Julian kicked it into the corner and continued back to the sofa where the duchess was getting settled.
“I came to apologize,” she said softly. “And to give you this.” She pulled a letter from her reticule.
“Apologize for what?” Julian tried to focus his gaze on the duchess. At the moment there appeared to be two of her sitting there, weaving back and forth in a foggy haze like little duchess twins. “It is I who must apologize to you, Your Grace, for I am deeply in my cups.”
A small smile twitched across her lips. “Not to worry, Captain. I completely understand. I should have warned you I was coming, but I came to apologize for my part in the duplicity played upon you at the house party. I was not certain you would see me.”
“I wouldn’t turn away my closest friend’s wife.”
“I see that I was worried needlessly.” She glanced down at the letter in her hand. “But I’ve come to tell you something.”
He clenched his jaw. “If it’s an excuse for Cassie, I’d rather not hear it.”
The duchess leaned forward on the sofa and spoke rapidly and earnestly. “You must listen. The entire thing was all my idea, truly. Though Cass insists you won’t believe me telling you that, it’s true. I swear it.”
He pointed a shaky finger in the air. “With all due respect, Your Grace,” pronouncedgrath,“even if it is true and it was entirely your idea,youwere not my friend, a person whom I’d known for years and traded countless letters with. Your lying to me was far different from Cassandra lying to me.”
“I completely understand, Captain,” the duchess replied. “I do hope you’ll believe it was all my idea, however. I am known for my schemes, as I’m certain my husband will tell you when next you meet. However, be that as it may, I can only hope you’ll reconsider your feelings for Cass and that you’ll—”
“That I’ll what?” He took another drink and nearly missed his mouth.
“That you’ll read this,” she finished, offering him the letter.
He snatched the letter from her outstretched hand. “What is it?”
“It’s from Cass.”
Julian tossed the letter onto the couch where it slipped between the cushions. “Bah. I already spoke to her. I don’t need any more of her excuses or her apologies.”
“No. It’s something far, far different, Captain Swift. Cass wrote it months ago when she thought you were dying.”
He closed one eye, the two duchesses appearing more like one that way. “And she asked you to bring it to me now?”
“No. Quite the contrary. She’d have my head if she knew I’d brought it to you.”
“If she didn’t ask you to bring it, how did you get it?”
The duchess took a deep breath. “She had it with her at the house party. She brings all her letters from you with her. It was in the same box. I sneaked into her room. I know I shouldn’t have, but I truly think… Read the letter, Captain. Please.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “If you think Cassandra will be displeased that you brought it to me, then why have you?”
“Because I think it will make a difference. And I think it’s important. And”—she sighed—“the truth is that Cass already wants my head so I’m not risking much in coming here.” She smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The duchess stood and smoothed her skirts. “I’ll leave you, Captain. I hope you’ll read the letter.”
Julian stood, too, and watched the duchess go in a blurry haze. “Read the letter,” he mumbled. “No more excuses.”
And then he fell face-first onto the sofa.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
