Page 27

Duncan was just about ready to turn in for the night when he heard a knock on the door to his study. Typically, he assumed it to be a butler or servants, so he simply called out.

“It’s open,” he said without standing or looking up; too transfixed on what he was doing. He noticed the figure move through the door, and he heard the door close softly behind them.

That set him to frowning, which had him glancing up, which had him pausing on the figure as his frowned deepened.

The figure was dressed in a hooded cloak that covered them from head to toe. Standing by the closed door, they were hesitant and clearly nervous but focused on Duncan in a way that suggested their reason for being here was not one that either would enjoy.

Duncan was quick to act.

Sensing danger, he was up from his chair and throwing open the desk draw as quickly as he could move. Inside the drawer sat a loaded pistol, which he snatched up and had pointed at the figure before having taken so much as a single breath.

The pistol cocked and --

“Your Grace!” the cloaked figure cried out and threw their hands up in surrender. “Please! I did not mean to startle you! I only wished to talk! Please!”

He recognized the voice immediately. Not that this brought with it any comfort. If anything, he felt a sudden desire to turn the gun on himself.

“Miss Gouldsmith?” He could not believe it! Anger flooded Duncan, for he did not like being made to look like a fool. “I hope that you have a darn good explanation for --!”

“We need to talk,” she said again, stepping further into the room, face still covered. “And I could think of no other way.”

“Be that as it may...” The side of his mouth twitched, and he realized that he was still pointing the gun at her. He was quick to put it down on the table, holding her in his glare as he did. “This is beyond inappropriate – this is myhome!Who are you here with? How did you get inside?”

“I came with my maid, Martha. She is waiting just outside for me. As to getting in...” She shrugged. “It was rather easy, to be fair.”

“I had not thought to lock it against troublesome woman intent on harassing me at all hours. I knew you to be an incorrigible sort, but this is...” He scoffed derisively. “You should not be here.”

“As I said, I had no choice.”

“Does your mother know of this?”

She shook her head. “I snuck out. Martha is the only one who knows my whereabouts, and she will not tell. You have my word.”

“Your word,” he scoffed again. “Forgive me for saying but that means little to me. I would rather trust a broke bookie than yourself.”

Duncan might have been utterly shocked to find Miss Gouldsmith in his private study at this hour of night but based on everything that he knew of the woman thus far, he probably should not have been.

In fact, this right here was perhaps the most logical transgression yet.

She had been at him these past weeks like a hound nipping an escaped hare’s tail. Needling him. Antagonizing him. Doing exactly as she had promised not to do because she thought it was her only chance to put a stop to this marriage.

She mustn’t have taken my warning seriously either. Dammit how I wish that she had... for both of our sakes.

And now she was here!

Duncan remembered too well the warning he had given her. The way he had straddled her, held her down, and whispered in her ear that she was to stop this andbehaveherself. Now, she either hadn’t believed him or she was doing it on purpose because she wanted what he promised --

No! Don’t even think about that...

“As I said,” Miss Gouldsmith continued. “We need to talk, and this was the only way that I could think to do it without the presence of my mother. We need to speak freely -- I need to speak freely.”

“You could have sent word and requested such a meeting.”

She shook her head. “You would have refused.”

“I would not have.”

“Or my mother would have been present – I needed to speak with you alone.” She was still wearing the hood of her cloak, making it impossible to see where she was looking.