Despite the plans Rebecca made with Gabby for their escape out of London, she walked over the threshold of her apartments in her father’s home with a heavy heart and sank down on one of the wing-backed chairs. She threw her reticule at the table in a frustrated pique. The book and knife inside threatened to take a chunk out of the wood.
“Good heavens, what was that?” Serena leaned her head around the door of the wardrobe.
Rebecca hunched over, an elbow on her knee and rested her chin on her palm and met Serena’s concerned gaze. “Just my reticule.”
“Are you still carrying that dagger, or have you taken up a dueling pistol I didn’t know about?”
“There’s a book in there too,” she said glumly.
“Oh, my lady. Whatever is wrong?”
“The wedding is being slightly delayed,” she said.
Serena moved in front of her, holding a stack of brightly colored, if slightly outdated frocks. “I don’t understand. He’s on his way getting a special license, he is.”
“We are, um, going to Scotland instead.” Rebecca felt as if her heart would burst beneath the pressure binding her.
Serena’s mouth gaped. “Scotland?” she managed after a moment.
Rebecca straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “Yes,” she said firmly. “In fact, there may not be a wedding at all.”
“No wedding. Oh, dear.” Serena tossed the dresses on the settee and lowered to one knee before Rebecca. “You’re frightened, aren’t you?”
Rebecca’s hand squeezed into a fist, hating this vulnerability gripping her. She did not like being on the weak side of the wall. She was the proponent for change. For lifting others. She wasn’t the one who needed lifting. “What have I to be frightened of?” She shook off her melancholy mood. “I don’t wish to speak of this again.”
“No, I suppose not, but might I say one thing?”
“One. And then the subject is closed.”
“I think the duke cares for you very much.”
Rebecca snorted. “He cares for his honor.”
“As well he should, my lady. He’s a duke.” Her haughtiness matched Ryleigh’s, then her tone softened. “But I think it’s more,” Serena said with a rare stubbornness. “You didn’t see him, my lady. He wouldn’t let anyone near you when you were ill. Not even me.”
“What has that to do with anything?” Rebecca demanded.
“He slept with you twice! Three times if you count last night.”
“I don’t count last night. He was relegated to my sitting room.”
Serena came to her feet and paced with her hands at her back. “He changed, my lady. After you tossed that dog’s water in his face. He was shocked, he was, but he… he wasn’t angry. He laughed. You take my word for it. He changed that day.”
Her words infuriated Rebecca. “Changed? That day? Yes, you have the right of it. That was the day he told me I should consider a suit from his cousin, the squire.”
Serena’s hand flitted out. “He’s just not used to being in love is all,” she said.
Rebecca’s shock could not have been more profound. “L-love. You don’t know what you are—”
Someone tapped at the door and Serena hurried over to answer it.
“Two missives for Lady Rebecca—er, Her Grace,” Lars said.
“Thank you.” The door shut and Serena brought them over.
With a show of impatience, Rebecca snatched them from her. “I believe you’ve somehow forgotten your place.” Rebecca broke the seal on the first one. Bold strokes—it was from Ryleigh. My dearest—nice touch in the event someone intercepted, resentment flooding her—I’m away to Addington. I fear I shall be later than expected. I’ll return as quickly as possible.
Perhaps, perhaps not. She didn’t recognize the seal of the second note and, frowning, she opened it. The author’s hand was unsteady and barely legible. “What the devil?” As she scanned the page an icy chill whispered over her skin. Every instinct Rebecca possessed had her wishing Sebastian had not been delayed today after all. His formidable, controlling nature would serve her purposes right about now. Even as stark terror rippled through her, she was seized by a blinding rage. She ran through the words a second time, committing them to memory.
“Is something wrong, milady? You’ve lost all color in your cheeks.”
Rebecca looked up then dropped her eyes back to the second note and flipped it over. The hair at her nape stood on end.
Gabby would be here soon, and Rebecca had no doubt her friend would insist on accompanying Rebecca, and if some ill-begotten misfortune happened to her, the duke would have Rebecca’s head. Again. It wouldn’t hurt to check the corner to see if there truly was a rig waiting. She set the note on the table and donned her sturdiest pelisse. She snatched her reticule from the table, it never hurt to be armed. The missive fluttered to the floor. “I’ll only be a moment.”
She dashed through the door, leaving Serena gaping and any words of love, or the possibility, or hopes of love behind.