Page 49 of His Stolen Duchess

He still had some work to do. “Bring it to my study, then your work is done for the evening.”

Dottie curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She ran off to complete the task.

Lysander continued through his townhouse, happy with the sense of quiet that hummed through it. He walked the long hallway from the front door and entered the sitting room, where he found Georgina lounging on the settee with her legs folded beneath her and a book in her hands.

She looked up when she noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Is your business done for the day?” she asked.

“The meetings have concluded, but I still have some contracts to review. How was the visit with your sister?”

“I was surprised by allthreeof my sisters,” she replied. The smile she wore was small and tight. “Their husbands were there, too. They asked after you, Your Grace. Perhaps we could all come together sometime.”

“Perhaps,” the Duke said. “If I find a time when I’m not busy.”

“Yes, of course.”

“But it was a good visit?”

“Yes, it was nice. Although…”

“What?”

Georgina shifted in her spot, laying the book down on the cushion beside her. “I don’t know. They were all paired off, and they looked so happy together, and I suppose it felt like… like I was the odd one out.”

“The odd one out.”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Because I was there by myself and not with you. It was fine, really.”

“Good.” Lysander looked around the room. He noticed the cage with a blanket thrown over it. Mr. Squawksby must be inside, and if he was being that quiet, he was likely sleeping. “I should go. I still have work to do.”

“Yes, of course.” Georgina didn’t move to pick up her book and watched Lysander as he turned around to leave.

“Goodnight,” he said over his shoulder.

“Goodnight,” she replied.

He could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Lysander was seated in the dining room when he heard people talking outside. It sounded as if they were in his garden.

His mind went back to an occasion a few years earlier. He had been staying at the townhouse when a drunk gentleman had climbed the back wall and was stumbling around in his garden. Lysander had managed to shepherd him out without too much trouble.

It was far too early for drunk men to be stumbling around his garden. He left his half-eaten breakfast and went outside to see what was going on.

There, he found three laborers assembling what appeared to be a folly, a useless building only meant for decoration.

“What is going on?” Lysander shouted. “Stop this instant. You have the wrong garden.”

“Beg your pardon, Your Grace. We’ve spoken to Her Grace, and she assured us the structure was to be completed.”

Lysander sighed. It was far too early to be dealing with such things.

“And might I ask what is being built in my garden?”

“An aviary pavilion, Your Grace,” the man said.

That blasted parrot. I should have known.