Page 64 of The Courtship Dance

He stepped away and walked to the door, then turned to look back at her. She was standing in the middle of the room, watching him forlornly. Her dark blue eyes were huge in her pale face.

Rochford muttered an oath beneath his breath and strode back to her, sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her. Startled, she did not move for an instant, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body up into his. He kissed her thoroughly, taking his time, and when at last he set her down, she was breathless, her heart beating like a wild thing.

Then he was gone, striding out into the hall, calling for Cranston. Francesca sank down into a chair, dazed. She heard Rochford and his butler talking in low voices in the hallway, but she could not understand what they were saying. A short while later, Cranston appeared in the doorway and bowed.

“My lady, the carriage is at the door to take you home.”

“Thank you, Cranston.” She summoned up a smile, though she suspected that it was not a very successful effort.

He held out her cloak, and she slipped into it, tying it in the front. Pulling the hood up to conceal her, she followed the butler to the front door. As promised, Rochford’s carriage waited outside, and Cranston handed her up into it. She wondered what he must think about these peculiar goings-on, but his face, of course, revealed none of his thoughts.

She had hoped to see the duke again before she left, but she thought that he must have gone straight out after giving his butler instructions. Nerves jittered in her stomach, and she drew a deep breath, trying to calm them.

Sinclair would be perfectly all right, she told herself. She had heard Dominic say that Rochford “showed to advantage” and was one he would want to have on his side in a “mill,” both of which statements Francesca took to be compliments to Sinclair’s fighting skill.

But she could not help but worry. Perkins would not hesitate to shoot an unarmed man. If Sinclair were killed trying to help her, she would never forgive herself. She wished that she had never taken it into her head to go to Lilles House. Better by far to lose her house than to bring about injury or even death to Rochford.

And yet, beneath the guilt and the worry, there was another feeling, a giddy uprush of emotion—gratitude, yes, but more than that. Certainly there was elation at the thought that she might not have to leave her home, but it was greater than that, as well. It was a deep, sweet warmth, an inner satisfaction at the realization that Sinclair still cared what happened to her.

THE DUKE OF ROCHFORD wasted little time finding Galen Perkins. He went first to a gambling hall on Pall Mall that he had known Lord Haughston to frequent years ago. It was still in business, but there was no sign of Perkins. A quick inquiry to the proprietor brought the news that Perkins was no longer welcome at his club, having left the country owing a substantial sum of money. He usually could be found, however, a few doors down on Pall Mall or at a club on Bennett.

Perkins was, in fact, at the second place, so happily engaged in a game of Hazard that he did not even glance up when Rochford entered the room. The duke quietly left and, giving the doorman a gold coin to bring Perkins to him, took up a post outside.

It was ten minutes later that the burly doorman opened the door and ushered Perkins out. Perkins glanced around, saying plaintively, “What the devil are you talking about? I don’t see anyone.”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said he had a debt to pay you.”

Rochford stepped out of the shadows. “It is I.”

Perkins’ eyes widened, and he started to turn to go back inside, but Rochford clamped his hand around the man’s upper arm and steered him firmly into the street.

“You and I are going to have a talk.”

Perkins tried to pull away. “The devil we are. I am not going with you.”

“You think not?”

Rochford released Perkins’ arm and planted his fist in the other man’s stomach instead. Perkins doubled over as the air went out of him in a whoosh, and Rochford finished him off with an uppercut to the chin that left his lip bleeding. Perkins staggered and landed hard on the sidewalk.

The doorman had been watching them with great interest, and the duke gestured to him now. “Help me get this fellow up and into a cab. I believe it’s time for him to go home.”

The corner of the doorman’s mouth quirked up for an instant, and he came forward, reaching down to grab Perkins’ arm and haul him to his feet. Rochford signaled a hackney, and the two men bundled the pale and wheezing Perkins into it.

Rochford settled down in the seat across from Perkins. “Where are you rooming?”

Perkins regarded him in baleful silence.

Rochford sighed. “Do you really wish to have another go? I have no problem continuing, of course, but I fear you might tire of it before long.”

This time Perkins muttered an address. Rochford relayed it to the driver and sat back in his seat, arms crossed, regarding the other man steadily. Perkins, his arm still wrapped protectively across his stomach, leaned in the corner of the coach, avoiding the duke’s gaze.

When the hack pulled to a stop in front of a narrow, brown brick building, Rochford leaned across and took Perkins’ arm, jerking him out of the coach. He released the other man for a moment to pay for the ride, and Perkins took the opportunity to bolt.

Almost casually, Rochford stretched out his foot, catching Perkins at the ankles, and he went sprawling. Rochford handed the driver his money and bent down to pull Perkins to his feet. Now bleeding from a fresh cut to his cheek, as well as the old one to his lip, Perkins offered no more resistance as Rochford steered him up the stairs and into the building.

There was another flight of stairs to climb once they were inside, and Perkins spent a few moments fumbling through his pockets for his key, but finally they were inside the room. With a contemptuous shove, the duke sent the other man sprawling onto his bed.

“Bloody hell!” Perkins burst out. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?” He struggled to an upright position.