Taken by the Duke (20 page)

And much of it was not very far from the mark.

She shivered. Oh yes, this was exactly what Christian had hoped for when he snatched her, and what she had expected. But to see her fall in black and white as the first story on the Society page still made her stomach quiver with humiliation.

“What is that expression?” Christian asked.

She started. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were watching me.”

He arched a brow. “I am always watching. And normally you do not have such a mournful appearance. What is in the paper that distracts you?”

She swallowed, uncertain how he would react. If he was angry, that would be terrible. If he took glee in her fall…that might be worse.

“It seems,” she began, pushing her unwanted food away and rising to move closer to him, “that your hopes for creating further scandal for my family have worked.”

She set the article in front of him and then walked to the fire. She faced the flames, silent as she thought of the fallout when she returned to London. She could very well never be invited out again. Any remaining friends, beyond dearest Portia, of course, would finally abandon her. Her aunt would rail and scream.

And her brother…well, Liam would only see this as another reason to hate and fight to destroy Christian.

“Great God,” he murmured behind her.

She turned and saw his face was paper pale as he set the article away.

“You needn’t look so mournful,” she whispered. “This is everything you wanted, is it not? And everything I knew would happen when I agreed to your bargain.”

“But seeing it—” he began, then broke off.

She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. “Yes. Seeing it is a bit different.”

The door to the dining room opened, and a servant stepped in with wine and to clear the dishes. Christian waved him off and they were left alone again. He pushed to his feet and leaned heavily on his cane as he moved toward her.

“Ava…” He lifted his free hand.

She shook her head. “Oh please, let us not begin the apologies for something that was planned. What has happened is your revenge. It is the price for my brother’s safety. I was willing to pay it or I would not have stayed here with you.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He then nodded, gave her a small bow and said, “Then I will not speak of it further. Excuse me.”

To her shock, he pivoted on his heel and stepped from the room, leaving her alone with the full weight of both Society’s judgment and the knowledge that what Christian had done now weighed heavily on both of them.

And thanks to it, neither of them would ever be the same again.

Chapter Eighteen

Ava paced her room the next day, her emotions a riot she could not fully comprehend. She was still embarrassed by the Society article she had seen about herself. But she was also taken aback by Christian’s reaction to it.

He had not spoken to her again after he left the room the night before. As far as she knew, he had gone to his chamber, locked the door and not come out at all since.

His pain, which she had guessed fed his anger for so long, was more palpable than ever now. And she was driven by a strange and powerful urge to ease it. Perhaps that was the only gift she could give him now.

Her door opened, and she turned to find Laura there with a tray.

“Good morning,” Ava said as the maid placed the tray on the table by her fire and poured her tea.

“Good morning, Lady Ava.” Laura glanced at her as she arranged Ava’s breakfast carefully. “Are you well this morning?”

Ava tensed at the worry in her tone. “After so short a time, it seems you know me very well judging by the way you phrase that question.”

Laura shrugged. “You only appear tired, my lady. Is there any way I can offer assistance?”

Ava stared at the food, unwanted with her stomach fluttering from everything that had happened in the past few days.

“How long have you served this house?” she asked, watching Laura carefully.

The maid drew back a little and folded her arms in front of her. “I—well, I became Lady Matilda’s personal maid a year before she came out. Before that, I served for three years, so…ten years now.”

Ava’s heart leapt. “Then you must know a great deal about the family, about the duke himself, after working here for so long.”

Laura’s expression faltered a little. “Yes,” she whispered. “I have been privileged to know this family well.”

Ava felt for the girl. She could only imagine how close she had been to Matilda. And all servants feared being sacked on some level, even if they weren’t employed by a mercurial sort such as Christian.

And yet Ava asked her questions…

“I realize it puts you in a difficult position, but I truly only wish to…to help Christian,” Ava said, hoping and praying that this girl would see the truth in that statement. “And I fear he will not allow me to help him if I approach him directly.”

“How do you wish to help him?” Laura asked with a questioning tilt of her head.

Ava rubbed her eyes. “Surely you have seen the damage the battle between our families has done. I have as well.”

“You mean, I suppose, your brother’s injuries,” Laura asked, tone carefully neutral.

Ava nodded. “Yes, but the damage is much deeper than the physical. I see Christian’s pain beneath his anger. I would like to ease that pain if I can. I would like to leave him with some kind of legacy of healing before I go. But I simply don’t have access to the information that would help me.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Laura pressed.

“I have, and I have been surprised by how open he can be.” Ava wrung her hands. “But you know him. He fears pity. He fears betrayal. And I need more than he is ready to give at this time.”

Laura turned away from her, and Ava could see the struggle on the maid’s face.

“I hate to do this, I hate to ask you to betray any confidences. But I assure you, I would do everything in my power to protect you should you be so kind as to help me,” Ava insisted.

Laura bit her lip as she looked at Ava, and then she slowly dipped a hand into a pocket in her dress. She withdrew a key there and held it up.

“This…this is the key to my lady Matilda’s chamber. The duke keeps it locked, but I am allowed to go in once every fortnight and tidy it, clear it of dust. Perhaps if you were to visit there, you might find the information you seek.”

Ava’s heart leapt as Laura held out the key to the room. Certainly a visit into the private sanctum of Christian’s beloved sister would give her more information.

“If the duke finds you there, he will be furious!” Laura insisted. “And I could be—probably
would
be—dismissed.”

“I promise you, I will be discreet,” Ava swore as she took the key and pressed it to her heart with her palm. “And if I am caught, I will say the key fell from your apron. I will accept full blame for anything that happens.”

Laura nodded, but her face was still pale. “Give it back to me once you have finished your search.”

“I will.” Ava stepped forward and enveloped the girl in a brief hug. Laura remained stiff in her arms, so Ava stepped back to give the girl space. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Laura said and took the empty tray. “Good morning, Lady Ava.”

She slipped from the room, leaving Ava alone. Ava looked again at the tea and light pastries that had been left for her and could not bear the thought of sitting to eat rather than racing off immediately to conduct her investigation. She took one sip of tea, then stepped from the room and moved down the hall to the locked door that hid the chamber where Matilda had once led her life.

Ava stared at the door. If Christian found out what she was doing, Laura was probably right that he would be enraged. And yet she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t
want
to stop herself. Because she knew whatever was behind that door would tell her even more about Christian than she knew already.

She slid the key home into the lock and heard the telltale click. She drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the room.

Stepped into a shrine was a truer statement.

The room looked as if someone still lived in it. The curtains had been drawn back, letting in glorious light throughout and revealing how the bed was neatly made with what were obviously clean sheets. A freshly pressed gown hung on the outside of a wardrobe, as if the occupant of the chamber would be back to dress at any moment.

On the dressing table, lines of lotions and powders were arranged, along with a few brushes and pretty, decorative combs. There was even a book open on the end table next to the bed and a half-used candle.

Ava shivered and forced herself to step farther into the room and shut the door firmly behind her. The room was so silent, so still that it felt a bit tomb-like. It actually took courage to continue her journey inside.

“You are here for a reason,” she murmured to herself, as much to hear something in the silence of the room as to remind herself. “Don’t lose your nerve now—look around.”

With a shiver, she moved to the dressing table first, where she sat down. The chair was very comfortable. She looked in the mirror where Matilda had spent time every day, probably multiple times a day, as she readied herself for her life. Ava saw her own reflection and tried to picture what that other girl’s thoughts might have been as she looked at her face each day.

Was she afraid of the future? Lonely? Did she approve of her brother’s continuation of the family war? Or did she hate it with every fiber of her being?

There were two miniatures in frames along one part of her dressing table, and Ava lifted one. It was of a woman, probably Christian and Matilda’s mother, judging from the eyes, the expression. The other was of Christian, but not the angry, broken Christian of today. This portrait was of a young man with a wicked half smile and eyes that were bright with promise. He looked young enough that it was probably painted before his father’s death.

Before he had been duke, before he had taken over for all his family’s important matters, including their wars.

“How I wish I’d known him then,” she whispered and knew how very true it was. If they had met then, if they had never known each other’s names…well, things might be very different.

She started at the thought. Started at the notion that they could…
be together
, even in a universe that did not and could not exist.

She set the miniature aside and placed a hand on one of Matilda’s drawers. What she was about to do was a terrible invasion, but it was necessary. She opened the drawer and looked inside. There were a few pieces of jewelry and a selection of blank paper, but nothing else of interest.

She sighed as she closed the drawer and got up. Laura had said she might find something she sought by coming to this room, but so far there was nothing of great interest to catch her eye or teach her anything about a lady lost or a gentleman wrapped in a cocoon of anguish.

She paced to the wardrobe and opened it, but there were only clothes within, even as she pushed them around to be certain they weren’t hiding more. The drawers below were the same, only stockings and underthings there.

With a sigh, Ava moved over to the bed. The book that was open there was a volume of Byron. She lifted it to see which poem Matilda had last been reading but was distracted by what she found beneath the book. Hidden there was a small bound notebook, a pencil tucked into its pages.

Ava’s heart began to pound as she set the Byron aside and picked up the other volume. Slowly, she opened it, praying it wasn’t merely lists of things to buy or people to whom to write letters.

But the moment she turned the first page, she sank down to sit on Matilda’s bed, utterly engrossed. It was a journal and the very first line read,
I have often lamented the fact that I am not allowed to fight my family’s battles simply because I am a woman.

Christian paced his office, restless. In truth, he was beginning to feel like a prisoner in the room, locked away because he did not want to see Ava.

Or…he wanted to see her too much.

After seeing how hurt she was by the blurb about her kidnapping in the Society pages, after recognizing that he needed to begin to distance himself from her because their time together was so limited… Well, all those facts addled his mind.

The most discomfiting thing was how he wanted find her, to wrap her in his arms and tell her all would be well. That he would find a way to protect her, to save her, to make up for what had been done.

Only there was only one way to do that…marriage. And that was utterly out of the question, considering her name and family. And, of course, his own feelings on the matter.

Whatever those were.

He cursed and slammed the tip of his cane against the floor. If she had come here to make his life a dizzy frustration, she had certainly succeeded! He might think she had done it on purpose, only she had been the one kidnapped and ruined and had no part in orchestrating the time that she had been in his control.

He scowled as he moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He tipped it back, but as he swallowed he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.