Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(25)

Unease filled his belly and Auric opened his mouth, but then promptly closed it lest he repeat the servant’s words once again. Gipsy Hill, on the outskirts of the fashionable part of London, Daisy had no place being there. He tamped down a curse. “Has she brought a chaperone?” he bit out, because God help her if she didn’t, he would blister her ears when he found her.

“She brought her maid.”

Her maid? Yes, he would do a good deal more than blister the lady’s ears for such recklessness. “Thank you, Frederick,” he said curtly.

The servant drew the door open. A blast of wind blew through the entranceway, slapping Auric’s face with drops of rain. “Thank you, Your Grace,” the butler said quietly.

He paused and looked questioningly back at him.

“For watching after her,” he clarified. “Lord Lionel would have been grateful,” Frederick said and then closed the door.

With furious steps, Auric stormed toward the street, the man’s flawed words trailing after him. Lionel would not have been grateful. Why, in death, Lionel surely loathed Auric for having brought him to that sin and not being the one to care after Daisy, as she should be cared for.

“Gipsy Hill,” he ordered as he reached his carriage. The liveried driver pulled the door open and Auric climbed inside. What business did the lady have in that unfashionable part of London? He searched his mind, thinking of the girl he’d known these years. He’d not believed Daisy motivated by the frills and fripperies that drove the ladies of the ton, and yet how well did he truly know her, now? The soldiers she’d once played with had since been replaced with an embroidery frame. All these years he’d come calling, he’d gone through the motions of a visit but not once had he noted the truth—Daisy was getting older. His frown deepened. No, she was no longer a girl and he no longer knew the lady’s interests. With the exception of that embroidering business.

The driver flicked the reins of the conveyance and it lurched forward. As Auric’s carriage rumbled through the crowded London streets, he peered out at the thick, gray clouds and small beads of rain which beat against the windows. The weather perfectly suited his mood and only reinforced the absolute madness in the lady being out with nothing more than a maid’s escort for protection. A growl built low in his chest, filled by a fast-moving fear of the implications of her being at Gipsy Hill, unprotected.

Despite the chilled air and his gloved hands, his palms dampened as he was thrust back into the horrors of his past. At one point in time, Auric had been a self-absorbed bastard who’d sought the thrill of dancing on the edge of respectability. He’d forced Lionel into the underbelly of London, and for Auric’s selfishness, that one faulty decision had cost Lionel his life, dead in a whore’s bed with a worthless street thief’s blade buried in his belly.

It had also cost Daisy her one and only brother. All the implications of her being out alone slipped into his mind, chilling him with the prospect of a wide-smiling, freckled Daisy cut down in an equally vicious fashion. Nausea churned in his gut. If anything were to happen to her, he would not forgive himself. It would be the ultimate betrayal, which could never be atoned for.

The memories now came hard and fast—of Lionel, lying in a pool of blood, staring sightlessly up at the water-stained ceiling. Except, the image shifted and it was Daisy alone in that room with some faceless stranger. An agonized groan worked its way up his throat, nearly choking him. He banged hard on the ceiling. “Faster, man,” he thundered. The carriage increased its pace, barreling down the cobbled streets. Onward.

He stared blankly at the occasional rider passing by and the wagons and carts lining the cobbled road of Gipsy Hill while he searched for Daisy.

The sharp whinny of a horse jerked his attention across the street. As his carriage rattled along, he peered outside, squinting into the distance, just as the wind whipped a young woman’s hood from her head. Auric narrowed his eyes on the riot of brown tresses and a shock of freckles. He pressed his forehead against the crystal windowpane and knocked once on the roof. The conveyance rocked to an immediate and jarring stop. He braced his feet upon the floor and then shoved the door open and leaped from the carriage. A loud screech split the noise of the busy streets and howling wind. An eerie chill snaked down his spine, sucking the life from him. Time froze in an agonizing moment, his world stilled as Daisy barely escaped being trampled under the enormous hooves of some fool’s black mare.

His pulse pounding hard in his ears, Auric raced down the cobbled road. He dodged between carts and carriages while blood pumped furiously through his body. Distantly, he registered the icy cool of the thick puddles penetrating the heels of his boots and the now blinding drive of rain. “Daisy,” he barked, the call lost to the furious wind battering his cloak. The young lady blinked several times as though dazed. By God, he’d never forgive himself if she were hurt. His life would be eternally dark without her in it.

Auric closed the distance between them in just a handful of strides.

Rain matted her hair and ran in steady rivulets down her pale cheeks. She glanced up and then stared at him. With her brow furrowed in consternation, she tipped her head as though trying to place him, which was of course foolish. He’d known her since she’d been a babe and carried her throughout the marquess’ estate atop his shoulders. “Auric,” she greeted with a smile.

At that easy grin, a confirmation that she was unhurt, his heart resumed a normal beat.