The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(78)

Lucy scooped up the letter. She gave her friend a sly smile. “You know. I could bring the letter around to Derek tonight if you’d like.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT


When Lucy alighted from her cousin’s coach, she raced over the stone walkway and took the stairs to Derek’s London town house two at a time. She rapped upon the door and fidgeted with her hands, waiting for the blasted butler to open it. “Is His Grace in residence?”

“Yes, my lady, but—”

Lucy didn’t wait to be invited. She hurtled herself inside. The minute she’d heard that Cass and Derek hadn’t seen each other, that Cass had told him she couldn’t marry him, and that they were not, in fact, betrothed, Lucy couldn’t get to him fast enough. It was late at night. She’d had to wait for Garrett and Aunt Mary to retire for the evening before she snuck out of the house. She’d bribed the grooms to put the coach to and promise not to mention it to her cousin. She’d arrived at the duke’s residence far past the proper time for callers, but she couldn’t have cared any less.

“Where is he?” The butler had better not give her any trouble. In her present state of mind, she could fight him with knives and win. Not that she was in possession of a knife, but that was not the point.

Haughty Hughes looked down his nose at her. “His Grace has retired to his bedchamber for the evening. I’ll be happy to take your card and—”

“No!” She made her way determinedly to the staircase. Retired to his bedchamber? That sounded perfect to her. Oh, this was going to be the scandal of the year, but Lucy didn’t give a fig what Hughes thought. She raced up the stairs, frantically opening the doors to several bedchambers to no avail, before coming to the final one at the end of the corridor.

She grabbed the handle with both hands and swung it open to find Derek sitting across the room, in bed, his hair gorgeously ruffled, a dark green silk robe mostly open showing his muscled chest. A book in his hands. He was reading and wore a pair of silver spectacles that made him look even more handsome. He also obviously hadn’t shaved since morning, and the dark stubble on his face made Lucy nearly swoon. She came to a panting halt as soon as she saw him. The door she’d burst through cracked against the opposite wall.

Derek’s eyebrow immediately arched. “Well, now, this is entirely unexpected.”

Lucy slowly retrieved the door, closed it, locked it, and forced herself to walk calmly to his side. “I have a tendency to be a bit unexpected, Your Grace.”

A smile hovered over his firmly molded lips. “I’ll say. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my bedchamber, Miss Upton?”

Lucy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Miss Upton. She’d missed being called that. She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you were no longer courting Cass?”

He settled himself back against the pillows, removing his spectacles and placing them on the table next to him. “For one thing, I assumed Cassandra would have told you, and for another, you made it quite clear the last time we spoke that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

She ran her hand along the blanket next to his thigh. “I only wanted nothing to do with you if you were courting Cass.”

He groaned. “You told me to court Cass. You demanded I marry her, if I remember correctly.”

She touched his hand, lightly. “I thought that’s what Julian and Cass wanted.”

He tilted his head to the side. His grin was crooked. “Who gives a damn what Julian and Cass want? Besides, what about you and Berkeley?”

“I don’t care about Christian.”

“You looked as if you cared about him at the theater last night.”

She shrugged. “That meant nothing. We cannot even hold a conversation.”

“Yes, well, it didn’t bode well for the chap given that he had to have another man write letters for him.”

Her gaze locked with his. “What do you mean?”

“Meet the author of the letters from your beloved Lord Berkeley.” Even though he was sitting, Derek did a semblance of a bow at the waist.

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “You wrote those letters?”

“Yes, and you kissed Berkeley.”

Lucy snapped her mouth shut. “I might have kissed him, but I was thinking about you the entire time.” She didn’t stop to acknowledge the mollified look on his face at that news. “How could you? Pretending to be someone else?”

He blinked at her innocently. “I seem to remember someone once hiding behind a hedgerow and speaking for someone else from atop a balcony. I’d say we’re quite even, my love.”

The words “my love” made her stop. Stop and stare at him. Then she began to laugh. Lucy laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. It was all just too ridiculous. “Oh, Derek. If I didn’t know any better, I’d feel as if we’d all been trapped inside the script of a romp play.”

He laughed, too, and when their laughter died away, they were silent, looking at each other cautiously, shyly.

Lucy pushed a curl away from her forehead, searching for something new to say to make it less awkward. “Did you know Julian’s recovered? He’ll be coming home soon.”

His fingertips glanced over hers, causing a wave of heat to undulate through her body. “Yes, my brothers just returned from the Continent and told me so. I’ve never been so damned glad to hear such news. For more reasons than one.”