Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“ W e do not have to do this, you know,” Diana complained as they stared at the Duke of Colborne’s imposing townhouse.

It was an impressive stone structure with quaint gardens and a well-kept stone-lined path leading to the house. It was like any other townhouse of any member of the ton, but the wrought iron gates and the storm clouds shadowing it gave it a haunted look as well as the silence, save the warning thunder.

Louisa shivered and drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She was grateful that Diana had agreed to come with her, or else she might not have had the courage to try and reclaim her letter. No one sound of mind would dare venture into this imposing house. She surely didn’t think Lord Pemberton was brave enough, but she couldn’t be too sure. A bruised ego would give him enough courage to brave this foreboding building.

“I have to, Diana,” she told her sister, alighting from their carriage. “I do not want anyone seeing it. Much less the Duke.”

“For all we know, Lord Pemberton didn’t deliver it,” Diana said, casting a wary look at the house again. “I do not think him capable of such courage.”

“You might be surprised by the lengths people would go to when they are scorned.”

Diana sighed but still shook her head, remaining stubbornly in the carriage. “Perhaps he might have taken it as a jest and thought nothing of it?”

“Diana, are you coming with me or not?”

“How are you not frightened, Sister?” Diana asked, still not moving.

“I am, but I have much greater worries than this,” Louisa answered.

“I cannot come with you!” Diana cried. “I will wait for you here.”

All Louisa could do was shake her head and set off on her mission. She had chosen to come at an hour when few people would be out and about, and if she wasted this window of opportunity, she couldn’t imagine the consequences.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped away from the carriage and through the wrought iron gates into the estate. Lightning flashed overhead, almost foreboding as thunder followed. She drew her shawl tighter around her to ward off the chill. She would have to hurry if she was going to escape the coming rain.

Her steps were short and quick, her eyes darting around for staff, but she spotted no one. The house was awfully silent. She tried to find the mailbox, but it was empty. Sighing in defeat, she moved to return to the gate, only to spot a lit window as well as a dark figure peering down at her. She jumped and turned to run.

“Stop,” a commanding voice said.

She stilled, debating whether to run or not.

“Do not consider running,” he warned. “Why don’t you come inside and tell me why you are in my home.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she saw the heavy oak doors swing open. She could still run, and no one would be any wiser. He hadn’t seen her face, so there was no way he could identify her even if he chose to rejoin Society.

She tiptoed past the door, but when she saw no one there, curiosity took root where common sense should have been, and she found herself walking into the house.

Seeing no one inside, she vaguely wondered if perhaps she had imagined the man in the window and his voice, after all.

“Excuse me?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”

Diana would have hissed at her and dragged her out the door had she been there.

My curiosity would definitely be the death of me one day .

“Who…” A kind-looking old man hurried down the steps, looking at her with wary eyes. “Who are you?”

She recognized him at once as the butler. His uniform and the air of importance around him gave that much away.

“I…” She paused, realizing that she had almost given away her identity. “Your master asked for me.”

She wasn’t exactly lying, but that wasn’t the truth of the matter.

The importance of the difference between the two didn’t seem to matter to the butler, who beamed with excitement.

“You are welcome, then.” He bowed his head. “His Grace is in his study. I shall inform him of your arrival. Would you like some tea while you wait?”

“There is no need, thank you.” She smiled. “I am sure he is already aware of my arrival.”

“In that case, I will show you to the study,” he offered. “I am sorry no one was present to welcome you. I hope you haven’t waited long?”

Her eyes had been busy taking in the décor in Colborne House, and she couldn’t help but admire the paintings—which, in their prime, would have been resplendent.

When she noticed the butler raising his eyebrows at her in question, she reddened.

“Forgive me,” she offered. “I am just intrigued by the Duke’s home.”

“You should see it once it is fully restored,” he said. “Watch your step here. The stairs still require some work.”

When they stopped outside the study, the smell of paper and ink wafted to her from the doors even before they were opened, and when they finally were, her eyes went wide at the imposing figure of the black-clad man standing by the window, facing away from them.

“Your Grace, you have a visitor,” the butler announced.

“I see that,” the Duke replied, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge their presence.

The butler bowed and stepped out of the room, leaving Louisa with the Duke, who radiated so much power that all her senses were warning her to flee.

She ran her eyes over the desk piled high with unopened correspondence, trying to spot her letter among the pile, but she was disappointed when she didn’t glimpse the coloured paper.

Could he have read it already?

She sincerely hoped not. She had already been embarrassed at the thought of Lord Pemberton reading it, and he hadn’t done it in front of her, where she could gauge his reaction. Considering how his ego had been bruised, she was sure he wouldn’t even bring it up again. If the Duke had read it, she didn’t dare to imagine just how embarrassed she would feel.

He had yet to acknowledge her presence, and she was irked. Curiosity gnawed at her. She itched to put a face to the mystery surrounding him, but he seemed perfectly content to wait.

Diana would no doubt be worried that some horrible fate had befallen her, and Louisa could already see a light drizzle starting through the window. She would have to leave soon if she were to arrive home before the storm gained strength.

She cleared her throat, as he still made no move to acknowledge her presence.

“I wonder what could have brought a gently bred lady to this dark part of London,” he mused. “I do not recall trespassing on private property being part of the lessons in etiquette.”

“I didn’t know anyone would be here,” she explained, knowing how weak her argument sounded.

“Surely the open gates were indication enough.”

“I shall be on my way, then,” she said stubbornly.

If the Duke had read her letter, he wouldn’t be inquiring about her presence in his home. Perhaps he thought her a brave gossipmonger looking to feed the flames. She would play ignorant if it was what it took for him to toss the letter into the fire, where she was sure the other correspondence would go if the ashes by the fireplace were any indication of his hobbies.

“Without this?” he said, holding her letter proudly in his hand.

Her opened letter.

She decided to play the ignorant card. “I have no idea what that is.”

She heard his scoff and the light rustle of paper as he read it one more time.

“I find myself doubting the truth of your words,” he said.

“I speak the truth.”

“If it wasn’t a letter you sought, why then would you rifle through my mailbox?” he asked.

Just how long had he watched me?

Her eyes darted around as she tried to think her way out of the pit her lies had dug for her. He had caught her red-handed, and there was no way she could continue her farce, unless she chose to be utterly shameless.

She sighed, knowing there was no use in denying it any further.

“Were you courting my brother?” he asked.

It would have been foolish of her not to have realized that she was standing before the Duke himself, but she still marvelled that he was actually real, and she would probably be the first and only member of the ton who saw him if he chose to continue his confinement.

“I… The letter was a prank,” she explained. “I did not know your brother personally, but my brothers-in-law did. I only attended his funeral.”

She realized too late that she was rambling and should have probably left out that last part, for the temperature in the room dropped.

“I am sorry. I spoke out of turn,” she murmured.

The Duke said nothing, but then he placed the letter on the table behind him without looking at her.

“You may leave, then,” he said. “I will speak nothing of this encounter. I do not think your reputation would survive it.”

She snorted but eyed the letter, making no move to leave. If she timed her movements correctly, she would be able to snatch the offending letter and toss it into the fire before he could stop her, and she would finally sleep without its weight on her conscience.

She made her move but was a second too late. With impossible speed she hadn’t expected, he turned and grabbed her hand just as it touched the paper. Her heart thudded loudly not just from the shock of the entire ordeal, but from the sheer beauty of the man before her.

Sparks raced up her arm where he held her, but even as her eyes traced the large hand curling almost painfully around her arm, her whole body suddenly felt as though she’d been doused in flames.

How had they thought to call this man a beast?

If only they knew.

Standing before her was a man who looked anything but a beast. He looked more like an angel if she was being honest, with dark brown hair that curled messily over his head and a chiseled jaw that had her staring more than she usually did at a man. As if that wasn’t enough, he had beautiful eyes—stormy grey with an icy glint that made her understand that this man before her was not to be trifled with.

Her breath hitched in her chest.

She eyed the scar running from the top of his brow, down his cheek, to his jawline and found beauty in the rough edges of it. It was deeper than hers and had healed poorly, but rather than take away from his beauty, it added a dangerous air that made her itch to touch it.

A beast was an unworthy title for someone as handsome as he was.

He smelled like sandalwood and something so male that she felt light-headed. He was standing too close to her. She knew it was beyond improper, but she couldn’t help but lean closer.

He pulled the letter out of her grasp, yanking her out of her reverie. No words could come to her mind, and her mouth felt too dry. She had never seen a man more beautiful than him. Even the way he moved showed precision and confidence.

“People call you the Beast.”

She heard the words leave her mouth and cringed, feeling stupid. How could she have said that out loud?

He smiled briefly, and she felt proud that she had made this mountain of a man break character.

“And what do you say I am?” he asked, his eyes glinting with humor.

The sound of his voice, low and commanding, sent a slight shiver down her spine and stirred warmth low in her belly.

She found herself answering without thinking. “I do not know you well enough to have an opinion.”

A smile tugged at his lips before he could suppress it, and her eyes widened at the way it transformed his face. He cleared his throat, fixing a blank mask on his face.

“May I have my letter?” she asked, feeling bold.

“It was addressed to me, no?” he pointed out, raising a perfect eyebrow.

“It was a means to escape an engagement I did not want. It is not important,” she insisted, reaching for the letter.

He lifted it out of her reach and eyed it warily. “It seems very important, since you were brave enough to venture into the Beast’s lair to get it back.”

“I do not call you a beast,” she told him. “I would never.”

He watched her, and she wondered what he could be thinking.

“I will hold on to the letter,” he declared as he folded the letter with a snap of his fingers, drawing her eyes to his big, capable hands. Even the movement of his hands was mesmerizing.

“But…” she trailed off, before clearing her throat to regain her composure.

“It was addressed to me, was it not?” he interjected.

“Only as a jest.”

“I understand that.” He nodded once. “But it is my property now.”

Her lips formed an angry pout. “That is not very fair.”

“I am sorry.”

She sighed, knowing she would get nowhere with him. He was as stubborn as all men tended to be, and it was getting too late for her to continue to trade words with him.

“Do not let anyone see that letter,” she warned, even though she could hear the plea in her voice.

“I do not intend to.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked.

She found herself trying to prolong the meeting because she had yet to come to terms with the man standing before her. There was something in his eyes that resonated deeply with what she had struggled to hide from her family, yet it almost seemed too good to be true. That one could understand her burden amazed her.

“You do not,” he answered, turning away from her. “Tobias will show you out.”

She took his dismissal in stride and let herself be led out of the house, wondering if perhaps she had imagined the whole encounter. He had communicated with her more than he had any other person, according to the rumours, and that was enough to temporarily sate her curiosity.

“Will we be seeing you again, Miss?” the butler asked.

“If your master permits it,” she answered, stepping into the cold.

She itched to know the Duke’s story and what had given him those scars. She had many questions, but she would bide her time.

She would definitely be seeing him again—she promised herself that. Just to make sure he wasn’t some figment her imagination had conjured to tease her… even though she knew there was nothing in her imagination that could have prepared for his beauty.

“Are you all right?” Diana asked as soon as she stepped into the carriage. “You were gone for a long time.”

“I… I think so,” Louisa answered. “Let us leave before the storm is upon us.”

“Did you get your letter?” Diana probed.

“No,” Louisa answered. “He didn’t give it to me.”

“Who? The Beast?”

“Don’t call him that!” she hissed. “Sorry, Diana.”

“Don’t apologize. I am sorry,” Diana said with a smile. “What was he like?”

If Louisa had the right words, she would be able to answer the question, but she only said, “Nothing like I could have imagined.”