The Duke of Morewether’s Secret (28 page)

“… since Thursday.”

“Hmmm?” He gave himself a quick scrub. He was anxious and excited to get to the wooing portion of the afternoon.

“With her young brothers.” Morris held out a warm towel.

“Are they settling into a routine until the school term starts?” Christian asked while he ruffled dry his hair with more toweling. Morris was a great valet, but he was a better gossip. The man knew everything, not only about Christian’s own house, but all the best houses in town. He knew who was flush and who was hiding from the money lenders. He knew who was sneaking in and out of which bedrooms and which spouses pretended not to know about it. Christian hoped his man would have an inkling of his wife’s mood so Christian would know how to expect their reunion to go.

“Not as much as the staff would hope. A bit excitable, but you know how boys are.” Morris whipped shaving soap to a froth while Christian put on his robe. “Still, her staff is settling in together nicely. Greene, you know the tall footman —” Morris was scraping his chin with a razor so he wisely didn’t nod his head. “— is sweet on her maid. Completely understandable as Hudson is a pretty little thing, if a bit skittish.”

Christian grabbed Morris’s wrist. “Sweet on her maid? Did they know each other before?”

“I don’t believe so. Still, I’ve seen them together below stairs, and Greene gets a mighty blush every time she’s near.”

He was confused, and he must have looked it. “Below whose stairs?”

“Yours, Your Grace. No need to worry, though, nothing out of line has occurred. Old Cranston would never allow that, you know.”

“Why is the duchess’s maid below stairs often enough to engender a crush in my footman and worry the housekeeper?”

Morris’s forehead crinkled together around his gathered eyebrows. “Well not alone, of course. The entire staff is there.”

He stared at the valet for a beat before saying, “I’m not following.”

“Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but what aren’t you following?”

Obviously, at some point, he’d missed Morris explain that Thea and her brothers were living in his house, no longer letting the townhouse she had been in before. “She’s here?” Christian asked, to clarify.

“Yes, Your Grace, since Thursday past.”

Well, this is certainly going to simplify things.

What surprised her most about her return to London, was how the minute the title Duchess of Morewether was tossed about, things happened. Carriages arrived at her whim. Shop girls fawned over her. That was not to say she had ever been treated rudely as Miss Ashbrook, but put duchess or Your Grace in there and all manner of doors opened. Still, hoping to get settled in town before having to deal with her presumably furious husband, Thea and her brothers were back in residence at the same leased townhouse exactly one day before her mother-in-law appeared at her doorstep. Thea squared her shoulders and managed a smile having no idea what to expect.

“Your Grace,” Thea said as she glided into the front sitting room where Collins had placed her.

“That’s what I should say to you.” The dowager duchess’ smile was real and generous. “How are you, darling?”

That was unexpected. Thea blinked. “I am well.” She indicated they should sit. The other woman kept her hand clasped in her own and poised next to her on the settee.

“And your voyage?”

“Calm,” Thea answered. “Mostly.” There had been nothing calm about anything once Hektor and Georgios were on board.

The dowager duchess nodded. “And how is my son?”

“I … I … I don’t know. I should think you’d know better than I. I’ve not seen him since I’ve returned.”

“Oh, my.” Her mother-in-law’s free hand flew to her mouth. “You did not see him in Greece then?” When Thea didn’t answer, the woman explained. “He intended to catch up to you in Greece. He left on the first ship he could force to sail after you. His daughter sneaked after him, leaving poor Miss Honeysett and me a note saying she was tagging along to help him. We haven’t heard from either since.”

Oh, no. No. No. No.
“I never saw or heard anything from him. I left for the return voyage to England as soon as I could gather my brothers. Collins,” Thea called to the butler. “Send up tea immediately. And maybe something a little stronger as well.” Her mother-in-law did not look well. Thea clasped both hands in hers and squeezed gently. “What do we do?”

The lady shook her head and gave a slight shrug. “More waiting, I presume.”

Thea had so many weeks to convince herself she was in control, that she would take the reins of her life — as she’d always intended — the unexpected news caught her unprepared. Her stomach clenched, and she couldn’t decide if it was more from fear or anger. As angry as she was at Christian, and she was still furious for being made a fool of, she also couldn’t ignore the fact she still loved the scoundrel. But now he was missing, in pursuit of her no less. If anything happened to him, it would be her fault.

“I’m so sorry,” she told the dowager duchess. “If anything happens —”

“No.” Her mother-in-law pulled her hands from the comforting embrace. “We’re not to think anything will happen. There has been no news of catastrophe at sea, no storms. He’ll be home shortly.” She gave a short decisive nod. “Then you may chastise him repeatedly for his misdeeds. We’ll speak no doom and gloom, do you hear?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” A small smile chased away Thea’s fear.

“Come, come.” The older lady stood with a determined air. “Get your things.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home, of course.”

Within minutes her rented house was in a frenzy, the tea cart she’d summoned sitting abandoned in the front parlor. Hudson was repacking her clothes and a battery of footmen were collecting Hektor and Georgios and all the belongings that had accumulated around them.

Anna squealed upon her arrival. Even though her mother-in-law had expressed no disfavor to her, Thea was grateful to have an ally.

“Oh, will your husband be furious he missed you,” Anna said as she embraced her.

Thea pulled her friend into a quiet sitting room. “What am I to do?”

“What do you mean?”

She was still trying to digest the unexpected fact that her stupid husband had chased after her. And the even more distressing detail that he hadn’t returned yet. “How can I possibly stay angry with Christian?” She gripped Anna’s hand in her own, squeezing hard. “What if he never comes back?”

Anna pulled her back into her arms and patted her back the way her mother had done when there were no easy answers. “Everything will work out. I’m certain he’s fine.” She pulled back and saw Thea’s tears. “Really, this is the famous Duke of Morewether we’re talking about. The man was born with a lucky charm in his pocket.”

Thea blinked back the tears. “But —”

“No, we can’t panic.”

“If he dies, then I can’t kill him.” The tears came in abundance then.

Anna laughed and hugged her tighter.

“If he comes back dead,” Thea said, “it better be because a Kraken got him.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He was both nervous and giddy to see his wife. Christian couldn’t decide if it would be better to go out looking for her or wait until Thea got home from her errands. He had no idea how military men did it, going for months or years at a time with nothing but letters from their loved ones.

Damn, he missed his wife.

He couldn’t wait to get her in his arms, kiss her beautiful face, close his eyes and listen to her murmur to him with that lovely accent. The last two months had been miserable. Tonight they would have the honeymoon night they should have had before.

In the absence of his beloved, he would have appreciated some motherly attention, but all the women in his life were away from home, probably on their visiting rounds. Even if he wanted to hit the streets of Mayfair to find his wife, he wouldn’t have any idea where to start.

His homecoming was dramatically less exciting with no one to come home to.

Lucy was probably upstairs with his mother’s cat. His daughter had spoken about that damn cat
ad nauseam
the last two days. He had no idea where Alexios was now, but he’d had enough conversations with his brother-in-law in the last weeks to hold him over for a while.

What Christian wanted was someone soft, someone who smelled sweet when you nuzzled her neck. He wanted someone to kiss. He wanted a wife who would ease the ever-present ache for a wedding night which had never happened. He’d made the epic mistake of going into Thea’s bedroom only to be awash in her scent, and now he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

He wandered the main floor of his townhouse, through the conservatory and around the ballroom. Outside the glass-paned doors, he stepped into the garden. The skeleton of the famous burned-out tree stood testimony to his life as a reprobate. All that time on a ship gave a man ample time to review his sins. Why had he left it there? Surely he hadn’t actually thought it funny, had he? In the past, he had gossiped about how that mistress had been a raving lunatic, he had even enjoyed the notoriety, but in reality hadn’t she actually been quite sad in her distraught, manic state? He found the gardener and instructed him to have the tree removed and a new one — something that flowered — planted in its place.

He was in the front hall willing the door to open when the knocker sounded, causing him to give an embarrassing little hop, which the footman was well-trained enough to ignore when he answered the summons. The grinning face attached to his best friend stood on the front step.

“Hi ho! So good to see you back whole,” Thomas said, as he strode confidently into the foyer. He grasped the hand Christian extended for a shake and yanked him in for a hug. After a hearty slap on the arm, Thomas stepped back and assessed him. “Let me see you. No eye patch. No signs of tentacle damage. Hearty and whole are you?”

This again.
“What in Hades is everyone talking about?”

Thomas chuckled. “When your wife returned without you, it started going around town that you were taken prisoner by pirates. Or fell overboard in the Mediterranean Sea, never to be seen from again.”

Christian narrowed his eyes. “But what the hell is with the tentacles?”

A great booming laugh filled the foyer, suggesting whatever Thomas told Christian was going to irritate him. He was intimately familiar with his friend’s many laughs and this one was definitely at his expense. “That would be the tale that the Kraken that dragged you off the ship into a watery grave.”

“Why would anyone get such preposterous ideas?”

With a dismissive wave, Thomas said, “Conversations may have been overheard and misinterpreted. You know how gossip spreads and grows.”

“What conversations were you people having?”

Thomas got a hold of his laughter and wiped the damn grin off his face. “Perhaps I’ll let you have that conversation with your wife.” He steered Christian towards his study. “I came as soon as my valet heard you were home — people talking, as I said. Your escapades have been a source of great amusement these last months. First, with a whirlwind marriage to a woman you’re so obviously mad for, who then runs off with you following close behind. The great Duke of Morewether brought low by a foreigner, no less. Things really went mad when she came home without you. Really, man, I think I can safely say old Lord Farley could take up an affair with a sheep and no one would notice.”

That idea didn’t please Christian one bit. Perhaps if the stories didn’t have him looking like such a buffoon … “I notice you didn’t list my daughter’s appearance in that list of my sins.”

Thomas’s expression grew serious. “She’s with you, isn’t she?” When Christian nodded, he continued. “We’ve managed to keep her out of it, but not because it would hurt your reputation.”

“Good. That’s a delicate topic I want handled carefully.” The decision made, he turned to the sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey. “She’s become important to me, and I don’t want her raked over the coals with nastiness from the
ton
.” Thomas nodded approvingly as he took the tumbler. They sat heavily into the deep leather chairs. “Where is my wife?”

Thomas shrugged. “I’ve certainly not been in charge of her while you were gone, but I suspect all the ladies are over at Dalton’s. You know how women are with babies.”

He’d forgotten all about Dalton’s coming heir. “Oh, yes.” He raised his glass. “To the wee baby.”

“What did you think of Hektor and Georgios?”

Thomas shook his head. “Not seen them either. No one is here.”

Then with perfect timing, the roar of hundreds of voices filled his home. Only the absence of the smell of trained animals kept the imagery of a traveling performing show at bay. Christian set his glass on the table and proceeded to the front of his house with swiftness just shy of a sprint.

Not a hundred people filled his foyer — only the ones he loved most and a few extra cast members he suspected were Thea’s youngest brothers. His mother and Francesca saw him first and screeched together, “Christian!”

The entire herd of them whipped around, and then the cacophony of voices was directed at him. First his mother, who was standing nearest him, pulled him in for a hug, then his sister. His arms were filled with soft, nice-smelling women, none of whom was his wife. Anna grinned at him from the back of the pack.

Thea’s expression was unreadable, a collection of swiftly changing emotions that had his gut clenching in an unpleasant, anxious way. He projected a new smile he’d been practicing, the Adoring Husband, but it didn’t get much of a response. Another screech filled the air accompanied by Lucy belting pell-mell down the stairs, an over-sized orange cat clutched in her arms. She flew into her grandmother’s arms.

Still with all the noise and Francesca and Anna’s rapid-fire questions peppering him, Thea remained rooted in place just inside the doorway.

“Your Grace,” Riley’s smooth voice penetrated the din.

“Oh.” Thea finally spoke only to acknowledge the butler’s wish to close the front door on their scene. One less event for the pedestrians of Mayfair to witness. She walked several steps into the house, but still not close enough for Christian to fold her hand in his and pull her in for the kiss he’d been planning on all day.