Mandeville pushed to his feet. “Not letting you carry me either, Price. I’ll walk my damn self.”
“You’re here to apologize to my sister and beg her damn forgiveness,” Zachary growled. “You’re not walking anywhere.”
“Zachary!”
She glanced over her shoulder at her friends.
Isadora nodded. “Understood.”
“Don’t you dare turn your friends on me,” Zachary commanded, already looking half-panicked.
Elowyn glared at her brother. “Since you brought this mess to my feet, I shall be the one to handle it from here on out.”
“I deserve that,” Mandeville muttered.
Elowyn ignored the man for now, pointing a finger at her brother. “Give us a moment. I’ll clean his face and Isadora and Persephone can decide what to do with you in the morning room.”
She shot Mandeville a pointed look before sweeping into the drawing room and, really, let him follow if he was determined to apologize. Of course, he followed. The footman came at once with the medicine box and a bowl of water, setting it on the table with an air of frightened haste.
“Shut the door,” Elowyn called after him.
The footman complied, much to the chagrin of Zachary, who let out several foul curses but didn’t object further. Elowyn waited until she heard her friends usher her brother away before crossing her arms, staring into those amber eyes which seemedneither hot nor cold at the moment, but rather, in pain. Her unfaithful heart clenched. He looked a sight. Besides the bruises and blood, his hair was in disarray, his clothes rumpled, and a few days of stubble coated his jaw. He looked nothing like the cold duke from before. What had he gone through these past few days? A war?
She gritted her teeth against softening.
“There is nothing you need apologize for,” she said. “So why are you here? I don’t believe my brother is strong enough to make the mighty, ruthless Mandeville do something he didn’t want to do.”
Mandeville groaned. “I have a lot to apologize for.”
Elowyn shook her head. “I was the one to ask we keep our distance and you agreed. Like I said, you have nothing to apologize for.” She had played her own part in all the encounters between them. Only, she hadn’t been able to guard her heart. “I still have your jacket. Do you wish it returned?” That was the last piece she was still holding onto.
“Yes.”
She nodded, her heart throbbing all over again.
“But only because you wore it, so I want to wear it every day for the rest of my life.”
Elowyn blinked at the man, her cheeks growing hot. What was he even saying? “That’s . . . Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m being entirely serious.”
Her breath caught, which she was determined to ignore. She didn’t want to ask why even though her entire being burned to know. What if the answer was just as ridiculous as his statement and she gained a sliver of hope only for it to be snatched away? She retrieved a cloth from the medicine chest,wet it in the bowl, and tossed it at his chest. “Clean the blood of your face.”
Obediently, he wiped his face, and her heart nearly did melt there and then. His eyes met hers again when he finished.
Elowyn sighed and reached for a clean cloth and the small bottle of spirits, then crossed to him with unsteady legs. The nearer she came, the stronger the reek of alcohol grew, and she wrinkled her nose when she stopped in front of him. “What did you do? Drink all the liquor in London?”
“I certainly tried.”
She scoffed, dabbing the cloth in spirits and then at the cut on his cheek. He didn’t so much as flinch. “Just how foxed are you?”
“Sadly, not a whit.”
“Then why did you taunt Zachary?” The duke she knew was too distant to provoke anyone needlessly. Not without gain. “What did you hope to achieve?”
“To see you again.”
She paused, frowning at the man before pressing on the cut harder, causing him to hiss. “You could have just called on me if you wanted to see me.” Why did he have to go through all that trouble? And why did her heart feel absurdly pleased? The throb all but disappeared.
