Page 6 of The Odyssean Duke

Nathanial nodded. “Of course.”

“And anything that looks as though it…” Stephan trailed off, trying to decide iflooks as though it belongs to a womanwould result in several priceless antiques being taken from the house.

Did he truly wish to guide Nathanial through the entire house, meticulously telling the man what belonged to his grandmother? Not in the least. In truth, Stephan wanted none of this. Even if he was prepared to accept his role as the Duke of Rothbury?—

Washe prepared to accept it? Before he had known of all his father’s stipulations, Stephan was certain that he had been, but now, it seemed as if he was embarking on a great quest of futility.

“Everything in her rooms,” Stephan said finally. “I will handle the rest of her possessions at a later date.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

Nathanial did not seem to realize that there was an implied dismissal in Stephan’s tone. This man was entirely unsuitable to be the butler for his household, but Stephan felt a twinge of guilt when he thought about promptly dismissing the man. He looked so eager to do Stephan’s every whim. It was, as usual, Her Grace who was to blame. Stephan imagined her gleefully firingand hiring new staff before his father’s body was even cold and for no other reason than to spite him. He clenched his jaw and tried to decide if this problem was one which he cared to deal with during his first night in London. And who knew what else the woman might have done?

No, Stephan would handle this all later. He would have one final night to himself, one last night to be someone other than the Duke of Rothbury. Tomorrow, he would accept his responsibilities, including this disastrous household. Tomorrow, he would announce his return and properly join the ton.

Tonight, his life would be his own. What did he wish to do with it? His mind raced, trying to find some place he could go that would not make him feel like the Duke of Rothbury but just like any other man. Maybe it was selfish, but he had just relinquished his entire life as an admiral to take the title, only to be thwarted and threatened by his own grandmother. Didn’t he deserve one good night in London before he was forced to accept this new reality?

The tavern, he decided. There, he could bejustStephan and not Stephan, the Duke of Rothbury. Tomorrow, he would manage the rest and begin undoing all the damage his grandmother had caused.

CHAPTER 3

Evelina tugged self-consciously at her hat, checking once more to ensure that her long locks had not managed to escape. They had not. She lowered her head, fixing her gaze on the untouched tankard of ale before her. Evelina had come to the tavern many times already, disguised as a young man each time, and thus far, no one had even given her a second look. Still, she lived in dread that she might be caught.

“Good evening, handsome,” a voice purred.

Evelina’s eyes darted to the speaker. She was a beautiful woman, voluptuous and confident in her scarlet gown. Her breasts threatened to spill forth from her bodice as she leaned forward. The man she was speaking to grinned and took a hearty swallow from his ale. He gave the woman a long, appreciative look that sent a jolt of discomfort roaring through Evelina’s veins.

She did not think that it was a respectful look. The man whistled between his teeth and abandoned his drink, approaching thewoman with a coy, cat-like confidence. “You’re a pretty thing,” he said.

The man came too close to the woman. He placed his hands over her thighs and hitched up her skirts. Evelina’s breath caught as the woman’s stocking-clad calves came into view.

“Lift my skirts any further, and I’ll expect payment,” the woman said, smiling.

Evelina bit her lip, torn between looking away or continuing to watch. Even if she was still a virgin, she was no young miss ignorant to what transpired between a man and woman. But seeing congresses arranged so openly made her feel as though she was watching something deeply private.

“I want to examine the goods before I pay for them,” the man said.

When he hitched the woman’s skirt even higher, Evelina averted her gaze.The goods! How dare this detestable man speak to this woman as if she were some—some fruit that he was purchasing? Something like fury rose inside Evelina.

She did not fault the women in the tavern for earning money as they did. Evelina had visited the tavern often enough to realize that many of these women had no other means of work, so they pretended to be charmed by the endless array of disreputable men. But thesemen?—

Men in the ton were not inherently better, for rakes were readily found, but they conducted themselves with a veneer of respectability which these men lacked. Did that mean the rakes were inherently better? She supposed not. At least, the men in the tavern were honest about their desires.

Evelina looked away. If she wished to have a child, she would inevitably need to have congress with a man. But if that was all, did she even need tomarry? Evelina had imagined that she would marry and have congress with some common man, but a new and scandalous idea began to take root in her mind.Maybe she did not need to marry at all. A sharp chill swept over her, and she rubbed her forearms in a vain attempt to warm herself.

Can I really do it?Evelina wondered.

Evelina curled her hands around the tankard to steady herself. She did not need to marry to have a child. But could she—could she truly do this? Women who bore children out of wedlock were disgraced among the ton. Maybe she could lie. She could leave for a wellness retreat and return with a niece or nephew.

Evelina averted her gaze, inadvertently meeting a man’s dark eyes. His tanned skin and disheveled hair gave him the ruggedly handsome appearance that Evelina associated with sailors, but there was something odd about him. Even from across the room, Evelina could discern that his shirt was of finer quality than most sailors could afford, and his dark gray jacket—though clearly worn—was too well-tailored for a common man.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that the man’s own gaze never wavered. He was examining her just as she was him. Evelina tore her gaze away, her heart beating so frantically that she thought she might be ill. Should she ask that man to engage in a congress with her? Could she do it?

The woman in scarlet had gone, taking the man with her. Evelina fixed her gaze instead on two women, one clad in violet and the other in blossom; their gowns were several decades out of fashion but would have once been considered lavish. The woman in violet had climbed onto a man’s lap. Evelina took a quick, instinctive swallow of her ale and grimaced at the unpleasant taste. She could never be so forward with her desires, could she?

Evelina glanced back to where the dark-eyed man had been, but she found he was gone. Her heart sank. He had probably been seized by one of these confident women. Evelina took a steadying breath. That was fine; she would simply practice her charms on another man. There were many in the tavern.

Her eyes swept over the crowd, all the working men and women. She found a familiar face. Evelina’s muscles tensed, and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes swept over the face again—the green eyes, the strong chin, and the blond hair. There was no question about it; that was one of her footmen.