Page 69 of How to Tempt a Duke

The woman gaped at him. “Your Grace, you most certainly—”

“I have to see her. Please.”

Desperation scrabbled over him. For all he knew the Watch had been notified of his forcible entry. He might have only minutes to plead his case.

“I was drugged last night. Robbed. I couldn’t come. I only woke up an hour ago. I fear... I fear I have let her down.”

The maid’s face lost its harsh resentment and she pressed her palms to her heart.

“I have most certainly let her down,” Charles muttered, more to himself than the woman.

“You have indeed disappointed me.”

Eleanor spoke from behind him. He whirled around to find her standing in the doorway of what seemed to be her dressing room. The mass of her gorgeous red hair was bound in a simple knot atop her head, with several loose ringlets spilling over her shoulders like fine silk.

“Your presence here is unwelcome and highly inappropriate.” She pointed to the open door to her chamber. “I’m asking you to leave.”

Charles didn’t bother to move. He wouldn’t—at least not until he’d said his piece. “I had to see you, Eleanor. I was drugged last night.” He shook his head. “Yesterday afternoon. Before I was to prepare for the ball. For seeing you.”

Eleanor folded her arms over her chest, her stubborn chin set decisively.

“I thought you’d sent me the brandy,” he rushed on. He looked toward the door, expecting a small army of footmen to appear and haul him away. “It was a gift and it had the Adventure Club’s compass on the card. I thought... I thought it was from you.” He grimaced, knowing his story made him sound mad. “When I awoke only an hour ago the journals were gone.”

She straightened. “Gone?”

“Stolen,” he amended grimly. “And I’ve the devil of a headache. Apparently the brandy was laced with a heavy dose of laudanum. I don’t remember much after arriving home from here yesterday afternoon. It’s all hazy.”

Her shoulders relaxed somewhat. “What about the key?”

“It was hidden, and thus was not taken.” Hidden under his face, that was, but he was not about to share as much. “They most likely didn’t know to look for it.”

He drew the stiff metal key from his jacket pocket and looked around the room once more, really noticing its state of disarray for the first time. The drawers of her dressing table were pulled out and the trunk beside it half full of various bottles and pots. Gowns and shoes were laid out over the blue silk coverlet on the bed, arranged in neat order beside yet another trunk.

“We won’t be staying in London.” Eleanor’s tone was solemn. “Charles, we’re ruined.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Lord Ledsey saw me going into Lottie’s and warned the Earl of Devonington away from me during the ball. Everyone heard, of course.” A pained look creased her face. “We were asked to leave.”

Charles winced. He had not been there to protect her from what had to be the worst night of her life.

She strode to the bed and let her fingertips sweep over the delicate beadwork along the sleeves of one of the gowns. “We’re going to Westix Manor, where we will most likely remain. This was to be my last Season anyway. Most likely this is my last day in London.”

She was leaving? Everything in Charles went on high alert. Damn it, he had not come all this way to see her slip through his fingers.

“Eleanor, this does not change anything for me.”

“I am a pariah, Charles. There will be no grand wedding at St. George’s, nor banns read.” She shook her head. “This was all just...ridiculous.”

Her voice caught and she turned away from him.

This was all his fault. If he had been there he could have protected her somehow. He had to make it right.

He gritted his teeth. “It was not all ridiculous, Eleanor. Not to me.” Charles closed the distance between them and drew her toward him. “We can leave on our own. Now. We can go to Gretna Green. No one there will give a fig about Lady Canterbury’s ball or the damned gossip.” He stroked a hand over her face and reveled in how her green eyes softened when they met his. “You need not be ruined.”

Eleanor cast him a chagrined expression. A lock of red hair had slipped from the loose knot and now fell becomingly over her forehead. “Gretna Green... Of course. Because it is near the castle.”

“The castle?”