“Why? I’ve never even met Lord Damon.”
“Because, unless I’m entirely incorrect, you will soon be a member of this family.” She tilted her head. “Damon won’t like that. Waters things down, you see, much like Alexander’s wine.”
“We haven’t discussed the future.” Helen clasped her hands. The duke might even now be advising his brother on how he must go forward now that Fletcher was a lord.
A quarter of an hour later, Sophia bid her to sleep well, and Helen was now ensconced in this lovely room full of pale creams and yellow. She wasn’t to return to Galway, which was assuring, but neither did Helen know what would become of her.
The door was suddenly flung open and she shrieked.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Fletcher?” Helen laughed and came closer. “I thought for just a moment…you were Roxboro, but you’ve this lovely freckle.” She gently thumped the edge of his nose, pleased he’d come to her.
“He’s a prick. I’m not. Has good taste in clothes but a bit somber for my tastes.” He held out his arms. “Not a perfect fit, a little tight in the shoulders. Barstow said he’d have some things altered. Grand of him. I could make a small fortune just selling this coat.”
“You look like…a lord.” Had Roxboro spoken to his brother about taking up with a lady’s companion? The duchess didn’t seem appalled at the idea, but—
“What’s bothering you, my little gnat?” Fletcher pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then her neck. “You smell wonderful. I admired you more than the roast while we supped.”
Helen swatted at his arm playfully. “Your face never looked up from your plate.”
“Can you blame me? Quite delicious. I’ve only had roast one other time in my life.” He cupped her face and brushed her mouth with his. “What worries you? You’re chewin’ at your lip.” Cocking his head, he pressed his forehead to hers. “You think Roxboro, the big ducal prick, told me to toss you out.”
“He’s well within his rights.”
“Well, he didn’t. Especially after I told him I intended to wed you. Which I do.” He watched her. “Have you nothin’ to say to that, Helen?”
“You are the son of a duke.”
Fletcher shrugged. “I was raised by a brothel owner. What of it? I love you.” He held her close. “You love me. Why would I want to wed some cabbage head instead of Helen Cosgrove?”
Helen made a happy sound.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms about him, too happy for words.
“Good, that’s settled. I’m glad you said yes ’cause I wasn’t going to allow you to refuse. Now, I know this is all…” he waved a hand. “A bit much. We were going to have a quiet life in the country, and we still mean to. But first, we’ll wed. Galway won’t dare touch you once we’re married, or I’ll take off a finger.” He frowned slightly. “There’s also the matter of the culprit. The murderer of my parents. Roxboro’s parents. We cannot allow it to go unanswered. The duke and I agree on that much.”
Helen tried to push aside the foreboding his words caused. “The duchess has a theory, though she didn’t share it with me.”
“Clever. That woman is insanely clever. Would have all The Devil’s Acre under her thumb in a heartbeat if she weren’t a duchess.”
“I’m sure she’d be flattered to know.” Helen curled into him, feeling something hard in his trousers. “Fletcher. What is in your pocket?”
“Naughty thing.”
“No.” She pulled away and pointed at the rectangular shape protruding from his waistband. “Hand it over. All of this is yours anyway. You’re attempting to steal from yourself.”
Reluctantly he pulled out the snuffbox he’d been eyeing earlier in the drawing room. “Fine. I only wanted to seeRoxboro’s face when he noticed it missing.” He tossed it aside and picked up Helen, tossing her on the bed.
She looked into those glorious eyes and whispered, “Are you sure?”
“I am. You’re my home, Helen Cosgrove. Where I go, you go. We will get through this together.”
Epilogue
Lark tugged atthe sleeves of his coat before strutting into the small, dank tavern on the edge of the wharf. He’d hoped to be invited to the toff’s home, as he’d never once ventured into the finer neighborhoods of London, but he surmised it was best not to be seen in such a place.
