there.”
With a long- suffering sigh, Leah turned in the direction
Henrietta had indicated. A delicate white flower sat in a
small pot on a narrow table. She’d just bent to sniff it when the sound of a door slamming brought her head around.
She was alone. That little brat.
Leah crossed the conservatory toward the door,
muttering under her breath the whole time. Grabbing
the handle, she gave it a sharp twist.
It didn’t move.
Shaking the heavy door, she tried again. It was
locked. A curse escaped her and she slumped against
the solid wood.
This had been a lot harder than she thought, and she
hadn’t actually had to do any work yet. Was her duke
worth it? He had to be.
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nothing? What if Pawpaw is really sick, and I’m here chasing an adventure instead of being there for him? Uneasiness swirled in her middle, and she crossed her arms tight to
stifle it.
But then the thought of Jamie and Micah’s faces at
their wedding popped into her brain. It had been so
beautiful, as beautiful as Pride & Prejudice had ever been. Pawpaw’s words echoed in her head. You find him, and you marry him, so when I’m dead and gone I know you’ll be taken care of… She shoved herself upright, straightening her mobcap determinedly. Not only was this for her future
and her happiness, this was for Pawpaw’s peace of mind.
Her man would be perfect for her, as perfect as Mr. Darcy
for Elizabeth or Antony for Cleopatra or even Romeo
for Juliet— well, hopefully without the mutual suicide bit.
Wading through the plants, Leah headed for the
nearest window. Here on the ground floor it should be
as simple as yank up the glass and hop to the grass, just in
time for dinner. Easy peasy.
Shoving a potted palm to the side, Leah stood on
tiptoe to reach the latch. It was just out of her reach.
Damn tall windows. Stretching farther, she was just able
to flick the edge enough to loosen the catch. Her breath
on the glass fogged her vision of the duke’s grounds, so
she almost missed him.
Almost.
Avery Russell was walking slowly toward the house,
his face and arms covered with bruises and crimson
splotches of blood. He looked like he’d been on the
wrong side of a mugging.
“Avery,” she breathed, fear streaming through her
brain. “What the hell?”
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41
Knocking the catch the rest of the way free, she shoved
up the window with a bang and was tumbling free before
her brain even had a chance to catch up. She had to go to
him. Something horrible must have happened.
Her mobcap flapped wildly and strands of hair
streamed free as she clapped a hand atop her head to
secure her required headgear.
“Avery,” she yelled as she ran. Damn, the yard wasn’t
that big. He had to hear her calling. “Avery, what
happened? Wait a second, let me…”
Her skidding stop sprayed gravel beneath her boots.
He’d entered the house without hesitating. He’d heard
her, hadn’t he? Why wouldn’t he stop? Making up her
mind quickly, she ran the last few steps that separated her
from the door he’d entered and sprinted up the stairs.
She’d find out what was going on whether he
wanted to or not. But what about supper, and Mrs. Harper?
her logical side nagged. You’ll be in trouble if you’re late.
And you have to keep this job or you won’t meet the duke, and Pawpaw…
She shook her head as she rounded the landing and
threw open the door of the duke’s bedchamber. It would
be okay. It had to be.
“Avery?” She kept her voice soft as she scanned the
large bedroom. “Are you in here?” No sign of him.
Ducking into the dressing room, she’d sat next to him
in, she scanned the smaller room for the valet. Nope.
Not here either.
“Where did he go?” she said aloud,
Learning to Kill: Stories