Page 10 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

Since then, the townhouse had been ransacked and stripped bare. Furniture and personal items sold. Staff let go. With no money for upkeep, its occupants were unable to waste time on such things, and it was a skeleton of the once beautiful home it had likely been.

Seeing this home, how she is forced to live… this might be easier than I had hoped.

Still, Rhys was nervous about what he had to do. It was extreme, he knew. It would have people talking about him, assuming him to have lost his mind. But it was the only way, and so he was left with no choice. And now that Miss Wilks had confirmed his path, all that was left was for Rhys to make sure that it was open to him.

Thus, he knocked on the front door and waited.

“I told you!” The front door swung open. “You are not to come back—” Miss Violet Beaumont stood on the other side of the door, and the anger that had spewed from her mouth was cut short when she saw Rhys standing there. Her eyes were wide, her expression shocked, and she looked as if she was seeing a ghost.

“Expecting somebody?” Rhys asked simply.

“Your Grace?” She blinked through her surprise. “What… what are you doing here?”

Rhys had only met Miss Beaumont twice, and in both instances, she had left a rather unforgettable impression. While he found her more beautiful each time that he saw her—her blue eyes, especially, and how expressive they were—it was her personality that left its mark the most.

He did not think of her as typically aggressive, so much as naturally protective. She truly cared for the children of the orphanage, and there was little she would not do for them. Even standing toe-to-toe with a duke, one whom most would not dare argue with, was not beneath her.

It was that level of protection, her confidence and determination to do what she perceived as right, that confirmed with Rhys that this would work. Oh, she would argue, and she would fight, but he knew that in her heart she would do what she knew was best.

“I am here to speak with you, Miss Beaumont.”

“You are?” She leaned back.

“I so enjoyed our conversations the last two times we spoke that I could not wait until I saw you at the orphanage again. I simply had to come and see you.”

“You did…?” She leaned back further.

He scoffed. “Of course not. While I admire your tenacity, as I respect your commitment to the children, I am not so used to being spoken to with such unabashed hostility. And I certainly would not seek you out so that you might pummel me with it again.”

She recovered quickly, at which point she stepped forward and half-closed the door as if to bar his entry. “Then what are you doing here?” she spoke in a low whisper. “How did you find out where I live?”

“It was not so hard,” he said. “As you know, I am a man of means. Such secrets are easy to reveal when the proper questions are asked.”

“Oh yes.” Her expression turned sour. “How easy life is for men with money, and few morals. I should have guessed.”

She did not like him; that much was clear. But her reasoning felt impersonal to Rhys—she’d made assumptions about his character based on reasons that weren’t difficult to fathom. And while he might have liked to have put her in her place, he knew that such a tactic would be counterproductive.

Rhys needed Miss Beaumont to trust him. Damnation, he even needed her to like him! So, Rhys bit back his first response, and then his second. Charm and grace were what he needed to present, and hopefully a truthful cadence that she might believe.

“I did not come here to fight with you.” He sighed and did his best to look apologetic. “I came here because I want to help you.”

“I do not need your help.”

Rhys turned and looked toward the dead garden path that he had walked up to reach the front door. “Are you sure about that?”

“That is none of your business,” she said sharply.

“I do not mean to insult you,” he said gently. “And while I wish to help you, I believe that you can also help me. You can also help someone else whom I know you care deeply about.”

Miss Beaumont narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Might I come inside?” he asked. “Such things should not be discussed on front doorsteps.”

“No…” She closed the door tighter to her body. “Here is fine. Whatever you wish to say, say it. Or do not. It matters little to me.”

Rhys clenched his jaw, frustration mounting inside of him. Oh, how she loathed him, a fact that he knew did not bode well for what he wanted of her. But she was inconsequential as far as he was concerned, because Lucy was the person who mattered.

Hopefully, Miss Beaumont will come to realize the same, regardless of what she thinks about me.