Page 34 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

Frederick felt, not for the first time, a complicated and inconvenient admiration for her. He had seen women face difficult truths in every conceivable way, and this was something particular to her. She simply faced her troubles, with a frame that should have been too delicate for their weight.

“I will write to Barnes tonight to secure these details,” he said, bringing himself back to the present moment. “He will send the particulars of when and where to present yourself. In the meantime, I would advise against writing to anyone in London. Not until we have arrived and I have had the chance to assess the situation.”

“I was not planning to,” she said with a sound that almost sounded like a laugh.

“I know.” He paused to look at her. Suddenly he became aware of how long he was looking at her, and looked at the fire instead, which only echoed her amber eyes. “I will arrange for the carriage on Thursday.”

Silence.

“It is two days,” he said, more gently, which was as much concession as he was going to make. “It gives you and Rachel time to prepare, but quickly. We will take every precaution?—”

“I know we will, brother.” Rachel looked at Anna, her expression softening. Then she looked back at Frederick. “Thursday,” she repeated.

“Thursday,” Anna echoed.

CHAPTER 13

Something is peculiar about that trunk.

His own trunks had been unloaded and set in order with the usual efficiency. He arrived in his quarters to find his coat hung, his cases arranged, the basin ready. He stood in the doorway.

The days leading up to the journey had passed without incident, as had the carriage ride and the unloading, for the most part. Frederick had noticed a small movement from one of the trunks when they arrived in London, out of the corner of his eye, and assumed it was Rachel’s. This would not have surprised him. Rachel packed for a sea voyage of indefinite length no matter where she was going, a habit that often led to bulky contents.

It can’t be…

Something moved on the bed from behind the pillow. A grey tail, lightly tipped with orange, rose in acknowledgment. Frederick looked at his valet, who stood at the opposite wall.

“When?” Frederick asked.

“I believe, Your Grace,” his valet said with great care, “that the cat found the interior of the traveling case satisfactory. He was discovered approximately four miles from the Hall I learned. I am given to understand he had arranged himself among your… better waistcoats.”

“I see.”

Frederick looked at Percy. The cat was sitting up now and surveyed Frederick, then looked at the window, and then back at Frederick.

“You hid in my luggage.”

Percy’s tail moved once.

“You are a menace,” Frederick said, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Percy turned to face him. Frederick looked at the ceiling. Outside the window, London went on as it always did, the sound of carriage wheels and a distant voice calling somewhere below. He looked down at his cat.

“You might as well stay,” he said.

Percy arranged himself onto his side and set his face on his thigh. Frederick looked at him for a moment.

“Don’t tell Rachel,” he said.

A soft sound came from the doorway. He looked up to see Anna was in the corridor, just past the frame. She did not quite stop, but was not quite moving on either. She had a shawl draped across her shoulders and her hair was pinned back simply, the way it often was in the evening. She looked lovely.

“I apologize, Your Grace,” she said, a surprised look in her eyes. “I was just passing by.”

He looked at her for a moment. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough,” she admitted as she batted her eyelashes, sending a fire to his chest.

Frederick exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding while looking at her. He looked at Percy then, who had the innocence of an animal who had done something and was now entirely unaware of it.