Blame It on the Duke(98)
She’d left nothing behind but a book. Fitting for such a studious lady.
He slipped the leather-bound novel into the inner pocket of his coat and headed for the duke’s orchid conservatory.
March blocked his way as he attempted to leave the house.
“You’re still ’ere?” he asked, his wrinkled face filled with confusion. “Thought you would have gone after her by now.”
“I had to let her go,” Nick said, trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing.
“Won’t miss that furry rodent of hers,” March said, sticking out his lower lip. “Not one bit.”
Which was a very unconvincing lie.
Nick already missed her.
They would all miss her.
When he reached the front door, he saw Berthold walking down the pathway from the conservatory.
Bill came running downstairs behind Nick.
“Forgot I was supposed to give you this,” he said, handing an envelope to Nick. “It’s from the captain.”
“Open it,” March urged. “What does it say?”
Berthold joined them on the front steps, and the three men crowded around, closer and closer, waiting for him to open the letter.
Nick lifted the sheet into the sunlight.
Maybe Alice had been right. Maybe he needed spectacles.
Because he thought it said: There’s a special chamber for orchids on my new ship, The Huntress. And the duke’s already in it. If you want him back you’ll have to come and fetch him, you stubborn arse.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nick asked after he read it out loud to the group. “The duke’s in the conservatory, isn’t he?”
Berthold gave him a guilty look.
“Isn’t he?” Nick repeated.
Lear kidnapped the duke?
March grinned widely. “Bully for the captain!”
Nick couldn’t believe it. “Are you smiling, March?”
“I might be,” March replied sheepishly, the grin never leaving his face.
Then Bill’s lips curved upward slightly.
Now Nick had seen everything.
Berthold joined in the group mania, chuckling loudly.
“You’re all mad,” Nick said.
“That’s right,” March said proudly. “And you’re in love with that daft lady.”
He was in love with her. And he’d let her go. Why had he let her go?
Would she have him? The one thing that he never could have planned for in this convenient arrangement was Alice.
No one could plan for Alice.
She was so completely and utterly her own person, you never knew what she would do or say. And if he laid his heart at her feet, she could tell him that she didn’t want him with her on her voyage.
But he meant to convince her that he had his uses on long sea voyages.
“I have to pack,” Nick said urgently.
Bill indicated a small trunk sitting on the steps. “Here you are, my lord. All packed and ready to go.”
“I had one assignment, men,” Nick boomed. “Love and honor my wife. And I mucked everything up.”
“That you did,” Berthold said cheerfully. “That you did, my lord.”
“Well, don’t stand there gawking,” Nick cried. “Saddle Anvil!”
“Already saddled,” said March with another delighted grin.
They were all in on it, Nick realized.
Turncoats, he thought with affection.
You need someone to love. The duke’s words leapt to mind. Had it only been two months ago? He’d been such a blind, stubborn fool. Why had he let her go alone? He needed Alice. If she’d have him, he’d spend the rest of his days making her smile. And blush.
Within minutes, he was swinging onto Anvil’s back with his trunk strapped behind.
Anvil whinnied, ready to fly. “Trample anyone who stands in our way,” Nick instructed. “We’ve a ship to catch.”
Chapter 32
. . . happiness is secured by the possession of excellent qualities in her husband, joined to a love of enjoyment.
The Kama Sutra of Vātsyāyana
It had taken hours to reach the docks because of the snarl of carts and carriages blocking the road.
The afternoon was misty and so were her eyes.
“There’s no use crying like that!” said Alice to herself rather sharply. “I advise you to leave off this minute.” She always gave herself good advice but rarely followed it.
Captain Lear joined her at the ship’s railing. “Nice day for a voyage to India, isn’t it?”
Alice nodded, unable to muster the excitement she should be feeling at the fulfillment of her long-held desire.
“Watching for someone?” Lear asked with a sly smile.
“Of course not.”
She’d been watching for Nick. Hoping to see him galloping along the docks on his big, black stallion. Coming to beg her not to leave. Telling her he loved her madly.