Page 13 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

How had she disappeared so quickly without a trace?

Roderick refused to allow a sense of disheartening hopelessness to fill him once more. He’d lived too long with that weight upon him.

He’d seen no marked path leading to the townhouse drive and around to the street in front of the row of Mayfair homes, but there must be. Perhaps Lucianna had found it and fled the ball entirely.

It was time he returned, gave his good tidings to the betrothed pair, and departed.

There was time to find her on the morrow. He’d send his man to keep watch on her, and Roderick would approach her then.

He turned back toward the well-lit house set high above the gardens below, wishing it were possible to slip out of the party without notice; however, the growing crowd on the terrace told him his entrance had gained much attention.

Sighing, he started back, taking the same paths he’d taken when entering the gardens.

A wisp of midnight blue caught his eye as he passed by the cherub fountain.

Roderick didn’t think, didn’t pause. He took off after the figure as it fled back in the direction of the house. Catching her was not an option. He pushed faster, but she was more familiar with the paths as she turned and crisscrossed across the garden, her skirts gathered high to avoid tripping.

Triumph flooded him at the same time his irritation flared at having to chase the woman.

Roderick was knocked in the side of the head when he failed to duck under a low-hanging branch. He only allowed it to slow him for a mere second before pushing on.

Lady Lucianna was a few paces ahead of him now, her strides as long as his.

Not much farther, and the glow from the townhouse would light his way once more and he could increase his pace without threat of injury.

Exiting the garden path, Lady Lucianna veered sharply to the left and onto a walkway he hadn’t noticed when he stepped from the terrace.

He lunged forward and grabbed her arm, halting her.

A quick tug brought her round to face him, and Roderick took her in his arms to keep her from breaking away.

Damn it, but she fit perfectly in his embrace. Lucianna’s height nearly matched his, though she kept her eyes trained on his chest. Her silky, black hair was piled high atop her head, but Roderick longed to see it flow down her back.

He loosened his hold enough to bring his hand to her chin, nudging it upward, coaxing her to meet his glare.

She tried to pull her face from his hand.

“Look at me,” Roderick sighed. The fight drained from him when a shiver went down her spine. Was she afraid—of him? “Lucianna?”

Reluctantly, she lifted her narrowed, moss-green eyes to him. They fairly glowed in the darkness.

“Why did you run?” he asked.

“I am not one to linger in the path of an angry man.” She scowled up at him before turning to gaze at the terrace with disinterest.

She’d seen him, knew he was angry and looking for her, and so she’d run as opposed to facing the consequences of her actions. If she’d been a man, Roderick would have suggested they meet at dawn on the expansive lawns of Hyde Park to settle the matter between them. He would not have had to resort to chasing a female down during the middle of a social gathering.

His temper rose once more at her deception from that morning.

And her part in his ruinous fall from grace.

Not that his position as a duke was in jeopardy; however, there was a certain stigma that clung to a man who had been accused of unbecoming behavior with a woman not his wife or betrothed. It was easy, less complicated, to look the other way when a gentleman visited his mistress in private, but it was another thing entirely for the couple to be seen in public together.

Roderick had made the mistake of meeting his informant in a very public place.

He had caused the gossip; however, no one had thought to ask whom the woman was he consorted with, or what his relationship with her entailed. They would have learned that she was the wife of his father’s dear friend—not a common harlot, nor his mistress.

The ill-advised meeting, and the gossip it had caused, would have lessened with time; talk of it replaced as another scandal occurred. But Lady Lucianna had decided to post it in the London Daily Gazette under the ludicrous guise of the Mayfair Confidential.