Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (35 page)

and Cook served him a double portion of mutton. Teresa

promised to tend to his wounds once he’d finished his

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meal, and Henrietta looked at him as if he were an

avenging warrior returning home.

The delicious food was tinged with both acceptance

and bitterness.

He’d found his place only to have to leave it behind.

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Twenty- Eight

Leah was limp. There was no strength left in her

body. It had all been wrenched away by a euphoric glee

that stemmed from not being tied up and smothered by

a burlap bag anymore. When the duke had removed

that barrier between her and the world, she’d been so

overcome that she’d hugged him.

He’d patted her back, comforting her. He really was

a good man.

“Thank you so much for saving me,” she said. “I don’t

know why they took me, but I’m so grateful you came.”

“It is my fault, dearest Miss Ram.” He patted her

hand. “I should never have allowed you to wander the

paths alone. It was foolishness.”

“Yeah, it was pretty stupid of me.” She rubbed at her

wrists, taking in her surroundings. “Granville, what men

do you have with you?”

His brows arched curiously, but he answered. “My

driver, the tiger, and two footmen.”

She couldn’t help but be disappointed. Where the hell

was Avery? “I’m sorry, I’m feeling a little faint. Can you

take me back to Lady Chesterfield’s?”

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“Of course,” Granville said tenderly, and snapped his

fingers. A man leapt forward and fetched the carriage,

which had been parked just out of sight.

Granville handed her into the carriage, and she

rested her head against the seat. As soon as the convey-

ance rumbled to a start, she lay her head back against

the cushions.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right. Why had

these guys taken her? She didn’t have anything they

could want.

Avery’s absence wasn’t the only thing that smelled

funny. That Scottish accent had been really familiar. She

frowned. Wasn’t the stable master Scottish? The one that

had tried to get fresh with her that time?

Mackenzie—

that was his name. Could his have

been the voice that had stopped the jerks from

violating her? On the one hand, she was really grateful

he’d stopped them. But on the other, what was he

doing there at all?

The carriage’s sudden stop scared the crap out of her.

She jumped, clutching at her thundering heart to keep it

from leaping out of her chest. Sunlight streamed through

the carriage windows.

Oh. She’d been asleep.

“Why have we arrived at Granville Place?” The

duke’s expression was cross as he called up to the driver.

“My apologies, Your Grace. I had thought…”

“We must return Miss Ram to Lady Chesterfield’s.”

Granville turned back to Leah. “I do apologize, my

dear. However, since we’ve arrived at my home, is there

anything that you require?”

Leah shook her head quickly. “No, thank you,

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Granville. I need to get back to Lady Chesterfield. I’m

sure she’s really worried.”

Granville nodded. “Of course. But allow me to fetch

a horse for the return journey. I must go and speak with

the magistrate as soon as possible regarding this matter.

Those responsible will be punished.”

“O…kay.” He had descended the carriage before she

could get the whole word out.

She watched as he entered the house. A glimpse down

the street caught an unexpected sight.

Avery, wearing a coat and hat and bearing a leather

bag similar to the one he’d given her, was walking away

from Granville House.

She’d hit the pavement before her brain caught up.

Hauling her wrinkled and dirty skirts up, she took off

running toward him.

“Avery,” she called, heart pounding with more than

exertion. She hadn’t realized how desperate she was to

see him. He was her sanity in this freaking crazy world.

“Avery, wait!”

He didn’t turn, only walked quicker away from her.

“Oh the hell you are,” she snarled and put on

a burst of speed. She caught him as he rounded

the corner, grabbing his arm and pulling until

he stopped.

“What is wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me?”

He didn’t look her in the eyes, just kept staring

straight ahead.

“My apologies, Miss Ramsey.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Her heart thumped

even louder now. Something was wrong—

horribly,

horribly wrong.

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“That is none of your concern.” His soft reply pierced

her through.

She stared up into his face, trying to understand what

was going on. But no matter how she framed it, it didn’t

make any sense.

“You owe me an explanation.”

He laughed bitterly. “I have done enough to you.

You have made your decision, and I was a fool to ever

think otherwise. I wish you a wonderful marriage.”

He bowed curtly and walked away before she had a

chance to form a reply.

“Avery,” she whispered. No, no, NO! What was she

doing? How could she let him walk away?

She picked up her skirts to run after him again. “Avery!”

Her shout was drowned out by the hoof beats of an

approaching horse. She glanced over her shoulder, and

the sight brought her to a halt.

The carriage and the duke were there behind her.

“Come, my dear. Amelia is beside herself with worry.”

With a reluctant glance toward Avery, Leah allowed

the duke to help her into the carriage.

i

Lady Chesterfield clucked like the chicken she’d prob-

ably murdered to have such a fluffy feathered gown. The

duke left after entrusting Leah to her doting chaperone’s

care, promising to call on them tomorrow.

“I have never been so worried in all my days, dear

Leah. Are you harmed in any way?” Genuine concern

threaded the woman’s words.

“I’m fine,” Leah sniffed. “I’m just tired. Do you mind

if I have a bath and go to bed?”

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Lady Chesterfield’s pudgy hand patted Leah’s cheek.

“Of course, my dear. But I must say how dashing the

duke appeared carrying you into the house!”

“Yup. Totes dashing.” Leah’s dry tone sailed right

over Lady Chesterfield’s head.

Leah trudged up the stairs, looking forward to no less

than thirty- six hours of total oblivion. And then she’d

figure out how the crap to get back into Granville House

and activate the mirror to get her home.

Man, she was going to need weeks of therapy to get

over this so- called adventure.

Hushed voices from inside Leah’s bedroom piqued

her interest. She slowed, reaching for the door handle

but hesitating as she tried to place the voices inside.

Muriel was there, but that other voice…so familiar…

“Ella!” Leah threw open the door and hugged her

friend tightly. “Oh my God, I am so incredibly happy

to see you.”

Ella pulled away way before Leah was ready to let

her go. But then Leah saw her face. Her cheeks were

tear- stained, her eyes red. Ella wasn’t a crier. Something

was bad.

Leah’s chest tightened to a near-

unbearable level.

“What’s wrong?”

She knew it before the words left Ella’s mouth.

“It’s your grandfather. He’s bad, Leah. It was a heart

attack, and they don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”

And with that, Leah crumbled inside. The last

reserves of strength that had held her upright, had dared

her to believe that she and Avery would reconcile,

that she could take him home and they’d be happy

and Pawpaw would feel better and not have to worry

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about her, melted away. The world shimmered, and

she stumbled.

Ella grabbed her shoulders and looked into Leah’s face.

“Come on, don’t do this. He needs you to be strong.”

“How?” Leah whispered, tears already burning her

cheeks. “How can I be without them both?”

Ella shook her head, confused. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We

have to get back to the mirror as soon as we can. Mrs.

Knightsbridge is having trouble keying into the right times

now, and if we don’t hurry, we might end up in ancient

Egypt or something.” Ella pressed her forehead to Leah’s.

“Come on. Keep it together for me, okay?”

Leah nodded numbly. Ella and Muriel flew around

the room, making preparations for their hasty departure.

How had things gotten so bad?

i

Avery’s heart, which had hardened over his last night in

Granville House, had grown cracks since he’d seen her

again. Even on the duke’s arm, she’d still been the most

beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She made him want to

believe he was wrong about what he’d seen.

His stride shortened, and he stopped. Tilting his chin

skyward, he searched the beautiful blue sky for answers.

There were none.

A nearby park beckoned, offering sanctuary from the

crowded street. Avery sank onto a bench not far from

the entrance.

He had bungled things. All of them. He’d not been there

for her when she’d needed him. He’d not protected her

from that blackguard, Prachett. And now he was running

away like a beaten dog with its tail between its legs.

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Anger stirred in his belly.

How could he be such a coward? How could he

abandon her with no word of apology? He loved her,

damn it! He loved her and he’d fought for her. He loved

her and he’d take revenge on the man who’d dared lay

a hand on her.

He shoved himself to his feet and took off for Granville

House at a dead run. The duke would help him. He must

help him. If he felt even half of what Avery did for Leah,

then he’d tear hell apart in his bare hands to get revenge

on Prachett.

The meek valet had disappeared, but Prachett had

finally woken the sleeping monster that had lain dormant

within Avery for so long.

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Twenty- Nine

Smythe answered Avery’s knock on the area door.

“Russell.” A smile stretched the butler’s lips. “You’ve

returned?”

“Only for a moment, Smythe.” Avery set his bag

down by the door and removed his coat. “I must speak

with His Grace. Is he at home?”

Smythe shook his head. “No, he has not yet returned

from Lady Chesterfield’s home. I have not yet informed

him of your decision to leave us.”

“Thank you, Smythe. I will speak with him myself.”

Avery mounted the stairs.

The door to His Grace’s bedchamber squeaked softly

as it opened. Avery stepped inside, his spine straight and

his heartbeat steady. He wasn’t surprised to see Prachett

rise from a seat by the fireside.

“You have ruined everything,” Prachett said in a

surprisingly calm voice.

Avery prowled closer to him, his knuckles tingling

with the need to plow themselves into the man’s jaw.

“You deserve to be ruined. How dare you lay a finger

on her?”

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The rage rushed over Avery, and this time he relished

the power it brought. He leapt onto Prachett’s back,

bringing the thin man to the ground with little effort.

His fist connected with the man’s head. He leapt free as

Prachett rolled to his back, snarling.

Avery ducked as Prachett threw a punch of his

own. From his lower position, Avery leapt forward,

his shoulder landing in the man’s midsection. The two

tumbled to the Aubusson carpet, trading blows. Avery’s

were practiced and punishing, Prachett’s were well

placed and cruel. Rolling to the side to avoid a vicious

right, Avery grunted as his lower back connected sharply

with the foot of the bureau. Pain rippled through him,

but he ignored it, pushing to his feet.

“I’ll have you killed,” Prachett snarled. His face was

a mask of crimson, a cut on his forehead seeping blood.

“You dare to touch me? I’ll see you gutted for this.”

“If I die for such a righteous cause, I have not

lived my life in vain.” His calm answer covered his

approach. Pulling back his arm, he smiled. “This is

for Leah.” Avery’s left fist met Prachett’s jaw with a