Duke of Midnight (Maiden Lane #6)(52)

It wasn’t until nearly nine of the clock that he looked up again, and that was because of a commotion in the hall, boisterous enough to be heard even at the back of the house.

Maximus stood and stretched. “That’s done for the day, I think, Philby.”

The secretary nodded wearily and began gathering the maps as Maximus strode out of the study.

He could hear Phoebe chattering before he saw her and rounded the corner to find her piling her hat and gloves in Panders’s arms as Belle, Starling, and Percy milled about her feet. Maximus eyed the dogs with a raised brow. Usually they stayed at Pelham.

“I trust your trip was uneventful,” Maximus said in greeting as Percy attempted to knock him down.

Phoebe turned from pulling off her gloves. She was an affectionate little thing and she flung herself at once into his arms. “Oh, Maximus, it was quite fun with Artemis along!”

And he looked over his sister’s shoulder to see Artemis Greaves with Bon Bon the dog in her arms, regarding him gravely.

“MISS GREAVES,” THE Duke of Wakefield said as Phoebe stepped back from his arms. “What a surprise.”

It’d only been little more than a day since she’d last seen him, yet the shock of his presence before her shook her physically. He was so commanding. So vital. This man—Maximus—had gripped her and kissed her with such an intense passion she’d felt as if she were drowning, helpless and wanton and wanting more. Now he stood before her and she had so many questions to ask—and she could utter none of them.

“Your Grace,” Artemis murmured, dipping into a curtsy as Bon Bon wriggled in her arms. “I trust the surprise is not an ill one.”

She set the elderly dog down on the floor and he ran to nip affectionately at Percy’s legs.

“Don’t be silly, Artemis.” Phoebe laughed. “And you, Maximus. You mustn’t be quite so stern. You’ll scare Artemis away and I won’t have that. She’s only just come to stay.”

“Stay?” Maximus arched one intimidating brow.

“Yes.” Phoebe linked her arm with Artemis. “Lady Penelope said that as Cousin Bathilda had to go tend her ill friend, she would lend me Artemis as companion. Wasn’t that awfully nice of her?”

“Unusually so,” Maximus murmured with a sharp glance at Artemis. “And she sent her little lapdog as well?”

“I’m the one who usually looks after Bon Bon,” Artemis said, smoothing her skirt. Did he want her gone? The thought brought an unexpected pang of hurt to her breast. “I thought he could do with a change of scenery and Penelope agreed.”

“It would seem so.” He inclined his head, his expression neutral. “And whose decision was it to bring up the greyhounds and Percy?”

“Mine, of course,” Phoebe said brightly. “I think they get lonely when we leave them at Pelham.”

“Mmm.” Maximus murmured noncommittally.

“We’ve made all sorts of plans on the drive home,” Phoebe chattered on. “I thought we could attend the theater at Harte’s Folly and go shopping and perhaps see the fair.”

Maximus’s mouth thinned at that. “I’ll accompany you on the first two, but the last is out of the question.”

“Oh, but—”

“Phoebe.”

The single word seemed to signal defeat to the girl. Her bright smile wobbled a bit before she caught it and continued, “Anyway, we’ll have a wonderful time while Artemis is here. I just sent the maid upstairs to have the pink room freshened for her, and I ordered tea. Would you like to join us?”

Artemis half-expected Maximus to decline—Phoebe had indicated in the carriage that he often kept much to himself even though they shared the same house in London.

But Maximus inclined his head. “I’d be delighted.”

He offered his arm to Artemis and she laid her hand on his sleeve, taking advantage of Phoebe turning to talk to the butler to lean close and whisper, “Where is he?”

He shook his head minutely. “Later.”

She bit her lip. The drive up to London had been near agony, trying to be bright and cheerful with Phoebe, and all the while worried and wondering about Apollo.

“Please.”

His deep brown eyes met hers. “As soon as I can. I promise.”

It was illogical, but his words of assurance warmed her. She knew that if Apollo’s health were dire, he’d take her straight to her brother. As it was, they needs must endure tea and cakes first.

Maximus held out his other elbow to his sister, and he led them both up a curving flight of stairs with a gilded rail with the dogs following merrily behind. At the top, immediately facing the stairs, was a grand salon. Pink painted doors were ornamented with bas-relief-carved vines picked out in gold. The salon itself had a soaring ceiling, intricately painted with gods floating foreshortened on billowy clouds. Artemis tipped back her head, studying the scene.

“The education of Achilles,” Maximus murmured in her ear.

Well, that explained the centaur.

“Must we have tea in here?” Phoebe was muttering on the other side of him. “I always feel like I’m on a stage. The blue sitting room is much more comfortable.”

Maximus ignored his sister’s complaints. “Mind the table there. Mrs. Henrys had it moved whilst we were in the country.”