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Duke with a Desire

Page 104

by Scarlett Scott

She had no one to protect her from Lord Timothy and his avarice.

Everyone had abandoned her, including Apollo. But that ended today.

He waited, pacing the small entry, his boots clicking on the floor as a sole accompaniment. Finally, the rheumy butler returned.

“Lady Corbett is not at home,” he repeated.

Well.

He was going to have to take matters into his own hands, and since he didn’t particularly feel like stealing into the mews like a thief or trying to find a suitable window through which he could climb, he was simply going to have to bluster his way to Phee.

“I understand her ladyship doesn’t wish to be disturbed,” he told the butler, “but I’m not going to leave until I see her. Do you want to tell Lady Corbett that, or shall I?”

The butler stared at him, his expression impassive.

“I do believe I shall be the one to tell her,” he said gently, deciding for them both.

“Your Grace,” the butler protested.

“If you would be so kind as to tell me where I can find her,” Apollo added.

The butler sighed, wisely knowing a battle he wasn’t going to win when he saw one. “Lady Corbett is in her sitting room, Your Grace. Up the stairs, the second door to the right.”

He thanked the butler, his strides already eating up the hall toward the staircase. Apollo took the steps two at a time, not stopping until he reached the door the butler had indicated. He hesitated at the threshold when he saw Phee, bent over a piece of needlework as she sat on a settee, completely oblivious to his presence.

He took a moment to drink in the sight of her. To prepare himself.

The sitting room was small, but pleasantly decorated with thick brocade curtains, damask wall coverings, and a smattering of pictures on the walls. It was so very Phee that he felt at once at home.

He cleared his throat.

Her head jolted up, her wide, gray-green eyes meeting his, her pretty pink lips parting in a round o of surprise. “Apollo, what are you doing in here?”

“If you truly believed an arthritic old man who likely weighs no more than a sack of apples was going to keep me from you, then you don’t know me,” he said, crossing the threshold.

She flew to her feet, needlework scattering. “You cannot be here.”

Apollo ignored her protestations, only stopping when he had reached her. “I’m not leaving until you listen to me.”

Her countenance turned fraught with worry. “We are courting scandal.”

He reached for her hands, taking them in his, and he reveled in the feel of her skin on his for the first time in over a week. “Then let us. We can rectify that soon enough.”

“You don’t understand.” Her lower lip quivered. “If word travels of you visiting me at this late hour, it would be disastrous. You must go at once.”

He noted she hadn’t pulled away from him despite her insistence, and that gave him hope.

“I do understand,” he said softly. “Ro told me everything.”

“E-everything?” A frown creased her brow. “What do you mean?”

“She told me why you agreed to play hostess at the house party, and she told me about Corbett naming his brother the guardian of Reggie and Catherine. I know you’re terrified of scandal because you fear he’ll take your children from you. And I know Lord Timothy pushed Reggie before a horse and cart.”

He had to tamp down the rage boiling inside him as he said the last. Apollo couldn’t begin to fathom what manner of monster would try to harm an innocent, kindhearted lad.

“She promised not to tell you,” Phee whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tugged at her hands, trying to put distance between them. “Let me go. None of this is your concern. Aphrodite ought to have kept her word to me.”

He held fast. “Not yet. Don’t be angry with my sister. If you must be angry, then direct your rage at me. I am the one who forced her hand. I’m a desperate man when it comes to you, Phee. Why did you not tell me any of this yourself?”