“Now, don’t you start blaming yourself. Markham had a reason other than his distrust of you. We’ll find what it is. We’ll get the proof, and we’ll prove it’s Markham who’s a danger to the baby, not you.”
When I found a way to hire a boat to take me and Lionel back to Demerara, would Jemina want to go? I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her unprotected. I caught her hand. “I know everything will work out, and I’ll take care of you always as you’ve cared for me.”
“Female bonding always seems like a conspiracy.”
The complaint came from a weighty baritone voice.
Glancing down, I saw the duke standing in the nook next to the marble gods. His bright scarlet regimentals contrasted the white marble like the striated petals of a lily.
Now the thought of the duke and beautiful flowers would stick in my head. I rubbed my temples. “Did you come from the catacombs?”
He pushed closed the secret door in the niche. It had been made to look like the wall with the same color paint and molding. “Yes. I need to see what else my nanny has spied down there.”
I bristled. The man knew how to goad me, yet his sunny smile, full and wide, dimmed my pique. “How long have you been standing there spying, sir?”
He leaned on his crutch. “Enough to know plotting.”
Jemina’s eyes went wide.
“He’s joking, Mrs. St. Maur. He doesn’t realize how much we need our employment and how unsettling his teasing is.”
I’d made my voice lofty and airy, and it seemed to do the two things I most wanted. My friend’s stance relaxed, and the duke’s countenance changed. It held a repentant dimpled frown.
“Sorry,” he said in a softer tone. “So, what have you two done while my troops drilled? Gossip?”
“Bedsheets, Your Grace,” I said. “We still have more to do. But you, you appear from nowhere. Perhaps you’re the conspirator trying to steal bedsheets or wanting to scare us like a ghost.”
“No thefts from me. That’s stealing from Lionel Jordan. It shan’t be done.” He thumbed his chin. “So you’ve heard the rumors of apparitions walking the property. You’re quite safe. I’ll protect you.”
Straightening from his hunched position, he chuckled, his laughter rich.
My pulse raced as I studied the man, the soldier.
His jacket hugged his body and tucked neatly into light gray breeches. Nice and snug about his muscular figure. Today, he wore a burgundy sash about his hips, contrasting the white satin one that I’d become used to seeing.
So coordinated, so orderly. Perfection, even if it was probably rule-based.
“Do I pass inspection, Mrs. LaCroy?”
My face fevered, but I offered a stiff nod. How long had I been staring?
“More cleaning,” Jemina said, and darted into a near bedchamber.
“Inspections are difficult things to pass, Mrs. LaCroy.”
“I’m . . .” I rubbed at my hot cheeks. But then I glanced back at the man I couldn’t deny admiring. “You pass, but why did you enter by the catacomb? I could’ve studied you much better if you’d entered by the front doors. What a sight for the Duke of Repington to arrive under the grand chandelier.”
I glanced at the wrought iron and crystals and noticed his men had raised it without the glass housing and candles. “Of course, I’d have to have a great deal of notice for the chandelier to be lit in your honor.”
His laughter was infectious. It pulled chuckles from me.
“Such an honest answer.”
He pushed to the first stair tread as if he waited for me to descend. “I hadn’t expected you to admit it. You keep surprising me.”
“Some days feel more liberating than others, sir. Perhaps widowhood coupled with your indecision on the length of my employment have given me a more care-for-none attitude.”
“More unexpected candor on top of an offer for a hero’s welcome, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
