My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(51)

“Mr. Percy awaits you in the study, Your Grace,” intoned Browne, his butler.

“Does he?” Grimly Jack stripped off his coat. Let Percy wait. “Have my horse brought around at once. I want a bath prepared when I return.”

Browne blinked, a shocking lapse of form for him. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Has my brother been here?”

“He is with Her Grace right now.”

Jack’s steps paused, but only for a moment. So Philip was here now, before noon, with their mother. No doubt they would both want an explanation of where he’d been these last few days, albeit for very different reasons. Percy, Jack knew, had returned to London without any real knowledge. Wilson had hurried him out of Alwyn House while he and Sophie were exploring the attics. He thought of the promise he had made to Sophie, that their stolen interlude would remain a secret, and he strode on toward his dressing room. Keep it secret, when she was all he could think of. Not see her again, when she was the only person he wanted to see. A long pounding ride was what he needed right now, to pummel some of the tension from his muscles.

His mother intercepted him on his way out. “There you are, dear. I was beginning to wonder if you’d taken ill, you’ve been away so long.”

“Not at all, Mother.” He bowed briefly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go for a ride.”

Her dark eyes widened. She had Philip’s knack of conveying deep indignation almost without effort. “Out? When you’ve just returned home after almost a week? You’re behaving very oddly.”

“Am I?” He took his hat from Browne and tugged on his gloves. “It doesn’t feel odd.” Going back to his study and closeting himself with Percy again would feel odd, which was why he was going for a ride instead.

Her brows went up in astonishment. “Ware! You mustn’t sport with me. I heard there was a scene at that club. It was most unseemly.”

So much for Dashwood’s pledge of secrecy, Jack thought. Which—-damn it—-meant Sophie was right to worry about her reputation.

“How could you do such a thing?” his mother added in a tone of mild distaste.

“You begged me to go,” he reminded her.

She blinked. “For Philip’s sake! I never—-”

“Philip played a part in that scene, as you call it. I trust you’ve scolded him already for breaking his word and returning to the tables at the Vega Club the very same day he promised you he would avoid them for a month.”

Her mouth fell open. It occurred to Jack that he hadn’t called out her unequal treatment of him and his brother since they were boys. “But—-But Jack . . .”

His shoulders stiffened. She generally called him by his title, and had since the day his father died. Using his name was how she escalated her attack.

She stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “Of course Philip should rectify his behavior. He has been quite remorseful, as you would know if you hadn’t disappeared without a word. I was very worried.”

He stepped away from her touch and spread his arms. “As you can see, I am home, hearty and hale. And now I’m going riding.”

“But dear, it’s not merely my feelings you should consider. Lady Stowe and Lucinda called while you were away—-”

From the corner of his eye he could see the footman leading his horse. Nero pranced from side to side, restive and ready to run. Good. Jack intended to let him run to Hampstead and back. “I trust they are well. My horse is waiting, Mother. Good day.”

“But—-but Ware! We must speak about Philip!”

Jack threw up one hand in farewell as he went down the steps. He was done speaking about Philip for now. He took the reins from the footman and swung into the saddle, tipping his hat to his mother, who was so overset she had followed him to the door, her eyes wide and her hand at her bosom. Without another word he rode off, fully aware that his mother was gaping at him in shock.

He wondered if Philip were lurking somewhere in the house, waiting to hear how the duchess’s intercession had gone. That was his usual course of action: enlist their mother to plead his case, usually by telling her a highly selective version of the truth. The duchess, who was always quick to trust Philip, was indomitable, and Jack usually acceded to her demands simply to save himself the frustration of being scolded and nagged, since she never gave in without achieving some part of her goal.

Sophie had tried to persuade him too, but he’d never felt browbeaten. She might tease him about something, but she didn’t demand.

God. Sophie. Had she made it home safely? He ought to have followed her, to be sure of it. Instantly Jack reconsidered that; if he knew where she lived, he wasn’t sure he could keep away from her. Of course it wouldn’t be difficult to find out—-his footman had discovered her direction in order to deliver a message to her maid after their wager—-which meant he must resolutely not try. It had been only an hour since he said goodbye to her, and already he wanted to break his promise and sweep her back to Alwyn House, damn the scandal.

How was he ever to survive the rest of his life without her?





Chapter 15




The last place Sophie wanted to go that night was to Vega’s, but at eight o’clock she walked up the steps.

“Welcome, Mrs. Campbell,” said Forbes, the manager, as he helped her out of her cloak. “I trust you’re well this evening.”