Page 17 of The Phantom Duke

“Yes.”

“Do you have children of your own?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I thought recently that I soon would,” Maria did not explain further.

Rosie’s face softened with sympathy. “Men!” she huffed.

“The source of all our ills,” Maria said.

“And the cure for some of them. That nice young doctor helped Doctor Drayford for several hours.”

Maria’s lips twitched in amusement, for she knew well how infuriated her father would be if she elected to marry a physician. “Doctor Hale? He seems a decent man.”

“Are you going home now, my lady?” Rosie asked as they returned to the front door.

Maria hesitated. She disliked lying, even over little matters, but she knew that the truth was complicated. It would take so much time to explain.

“Yes, home,” she said with a sad smile.

The door closed behind her, and she made her slow way across the yard towards the carriage that had brought her from Evelina’s house. She stopped suddenly as she looked up to realize that it had gone.

I did ask the driver to wait. Didn’t I? I could not have been inside for so long that he thought I was not returning.

She became aware of a shadow cast by the wall surrounding the orphanage, which contained a deeper darkness. It moved, and Maria raised her cane, her throat tightening so that she was not sure she could scream even if she wanted to.

The Duke of Winterleigh stepped out of the shadows. He wore a broad-brimmed hat that was pulled down to shade the half of his face that was masked. His coat was long, flowing as he moved like a cloak. He wore black, and the unmasked half of his face was pale in the moonlight.

“Your Grace!” Maria said, the realization of who it was not alleviating her anxiety.

If anything, the realization seemed to heighten her sense of unease. Her blood roared in her ears, and her pulse jumped madly. She inhaled sharply, her knees going weak from the force of her emotions. Seeing the man unexpectedly left her uneven and unsteady.

“Lady Maria. I thought I would take a look at this orphanage of yours myself.”

With a start, she realized that they were alone in the dark. There was no one who might see any discretions committed, any sins made, and a wild thought seized her. He could kiss her, embrace her, and even—God forgive her for thinking it—engage in some secret amorous congress.

“It is just a building from the outside,” she said, struggling to force away the treacherous thoughts. “You would need to speak to the children to truly see the place and what it does.”

“No,” he said.

She took a step toward him, her gaze darting to his pale, full lips. A lump rose in her throat.

What am I thinking? I cannot let myself be distracted from my goal! Where are these thoughts coming from?

“They would not like that,” His Grace added.

“They accept anyone who shows them kindness. Children are blind.”

“To deformity?”

Maria studied him as he stood there, out of place. Yet he had come to see the orphanage. And for what? A word he had given her to protect this place.Perhaps he had meant it…The thought unsettled her more than his sudden appearance.

“Are you deformed?”

“Even grown men who have seen my face draw back in fear.”

She didn’t answer.

What did it mean that she still thought of kissing him? She was near enough to do it, and although it was dark, her body quivered with the intensity of his gaze. The silence stretched long enough that Maria felt her breath catch. She swallowed and cleared her throat.