“Close the door.” My words sound rushed. “Do not wake her but have Mr. Steele do so after he brings breakfast for two. He will bring her to me.”
“The games you two play.” Scarlett folds her arms. “Please make peace with her. That’s the best for your health, Lydia’s, and my sister’s, too.”
Carew picks up his wife and puts her over his shoulder. “Come, my lady, let the peers play their games. We can go play ours.”
If I had my balance, I’d wake Katherine myself, but Mr. Steele will work a better plan. “Go through the closet, through the adjoining suite. Send Steele to me the same way.”
The two laugh and shush each other as Carew tiptoes into my closet, and the chambers which would belong to the Duchess of Torrance—or the Duke of Torrance’s mistress.
Steele will enjoy following up on a few things, a few Tavis-related things. An astute woman like Katherine would know if her sloppy husband went to brothels or paid for mistresses. Herdenials don’t align with what I know. “Tavis, if I save your reputation for Katia, you shall owe me … again.”
I sit back against my carved headboard. I must think things through and come up with the right strategy since I promised a smart Wilcox woman a deal.
Chapter 18
KATHERINE—DAWNISSTILLDARK FOR THEOUTCAST
Soft purring awakens me. Then, the smell of bacon hits my nostrils. I feel warm. Sunlight from the large window pours over me. It’s morning.
My anxious heart remembers Stephen saying that the duke’s fever broke. I smile.
“Lady Hampton, please wake up.” The voice belongs to Mr. Steele. No black armband; in fact, I don’t see one hanging from his pocket at all. He sounds too chipper for something bad to have happened.
“Is the duke well?”
“Yes, ma’am. His Grace is better. He’s up.” Mr. Steele puts Lada and her basket down and lends me support off the floor. Then he says, “The duke wishes you to join him for breakfast in his chambers.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I lean down and greet Lada.
The steward’s groomed her again. Her coat shines and looks trimmed, but a bandage and splint wrap her back right leg. “What happened?”
“The little thing was in bad shape. Some care will make her better. It’s good you rescued her. She wouldn’t have made it.”
“Mr. Steele, I think you are attached to my kitten. I’m glad for it. I know Lada will benefit. Would you mind continuing to help care for her from time to time?”
A smile appears on his solemn face. “Yes, ma’am. Lada is a sweet creature.”
Maids pass us. They stare at me. In privacy, they may joke at my reduced status. I don’t care. This is what I deserve. I must serve the duke to repay a portion of my debt.
“Ma’am. The duke awaits. He will explain some new arrangements.”
Wrinkled, still in the jet maid costume I wore yesterday, I pick up Lada’s basket. “Perhaps I should go change and—”
Mr. Steele knocks on Jahleel’s door. “Your Grace, Lady Hampton’s here.”
The steward opens the door and allows Lada and me to go inside.
One glimpse of an empty bed makes my pulse explode—but then I see Jahleel sitting at a small table near the copper tub. I finally breathe.
“Beautiful morning, Lady Hampton.”
He taps his cane, an ornately decorated ebony stick. Carved with laurel leaves, it’s capped with malachite marble. “I am here past dawn. I’m ready to dicker.”
He uses the cane to lift himself. The strain on his face shows the effort. I rush to the table, put down Lada, then offer my support. “No rushing, Jasha. Recovery takes time.”
His cheek twitches. “Lady Hampton. Thank you, but I don’t need your assistance.” He stands erect. “It will take a while to gather my full strength. But be of great cheer. Death will still win.”
“No, Jahleel.” I throw my arms about him. He still smells of lavender and coconut. “We are not doing this. No venom. No hate. Just gratitude that we are both here, and it’s dawn. You have a deal for me.”
