Chapter 11
Finding someone in London when one hadn’t the slightest inkling of where that person may have gone was never an easy feat. On Christmas Day, it was nigh impossible. But Lion was determined as he approached yet another hotel in search of Addy.
After racing to York with all haste and inquiring everywhere he could, he had discovered—too late—that Addy, her aunt Pearl, Alfred, and Dandy had boarded the final Christmas Eve train bound for London.
He had watched it departing in the distance, carrying her away from him.
Dejected, he had turned back to Marchingham Hall, catching up with his empty carriage halfway there.
Fortunately for him, the trains were running on Christmas Day as on Sundays.
Which meant that he had managed an early train out of York after wishing his sisters, aunt, and uncle a happy Christmas.
Now, he was cold, his shoes and feet were wet from slogging through the streets, and he still had yet to locate Addy.
But she was here, somewhere in this vast assortment of streets and buildings.
All he had to do was carry on.
He stopped at the front desk, where an unsmiling young man greeted him with a pointed look at his wet shoes. The establishment was a fine one, and it was true that Lion had tracked rather a lot of grime across the marble entry.
Still, he proffered a slightly soggy calling card. “The Duke of Marchingham looking for Miss Adelia Fox, her maiden aunt companion, and her dog.”
For a moment, the gentleman simply stared at Lion, and he feared he would yet again be denied. But then the fellow nodded. “Room fifteen, up the stairs and to your left.”
Finally.
Addy was here.
Relief surged inside him as he forced a polite smile for the other man’s benefit. “Thank you, sir.”
Lion crossed the lobby, narrowly avoiding a collision with a matron who had enough feathers on her hat to cover an entire flock of birds, and took the steps two at a time.
His feet flew until he reached the correct floor and turned left, following the numbers on doors until he stopped before fifteen.
He had scarcely slept last night, tossing and turning and wondering how the bloody hell he could fix the mess the both of them had made.
If she truly had a fiancé, she had a great deal of explaining to do.
She was also going to have to throw the poor chap over.
Because Lion didn’t think he had been wrong about the way Addy felt for him.
He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t have come to him that night if she were in love with someone else.
Whatever had happened to send her fleeing to York and then London, he would have an answer for it. He simply had to. Because he couldn’t lose Addy. Not when he had scarcely had her to begin with.
With a deep breath, Lion knocked on the door.
His raps were instantly greeted by loud barks, and he found himself grinning. That would be Dandy. He’d recognize her anywhere. Fortunately, he had managed to remember to bring pocket cheese.
The door opened a crack. “Who is it?”
Ah, the protective, elder Miss Fox.
“It is Marchingham,” he said as a little black snout appeared, poking out of the gap. “Hullo there, Dandy,” he said softly, extracting a small hunk of cheese from his pocket and offering it to the hound, who slurped it up eagerly and swallowed it whole.
“You are not welcome here, Your Grace,” the elder Miss Fox announced, and closed the door.
He heard whining and scratching on the other side, and he didn’t blame Dandy one whit. He felt the same. But he wasn’t going anywhere until he spoke with Addy directly. He knocked again, this time with greater insistence.
“Addy?” he called. “Addy, are you in there? I must speak with you.”
The door opened, and this time, it was to reveal vibrant green eyes that were red-rimmed and filled with sadness. “Go away, Marchingham.”
It was as if someone had landed a blow directly to his midsection. “I’m not going until I can have an audience with you.”
“Well, I’m not speaking with you, so you’ll have to speak to the door.”
She moved to close it, but he wedged his wet shoe on the threshold, keeping her from shutting it. Dandy was there, her brown eyes gazing up at him entreatingly. He removed another small piece of cheese from his waistcoat pocket and offered it to her.
The French bulldog snatched it from his fingers at once.
“Go away, Marchingham,” Addy demanded. “And stop attempting to bribe Dandy with pocket cheese.”
“I’m not bribing her. She likes me.”
Addy’s eyes narrowed. “She likes cheese.”
“Do you like me, Dandy?” he asked.
Dandy barked obligingly.
“Oh hush, you little traitor,” Addy chastised, frowning down at the small dog. “We’ve had this discussion before.”
If he weren’t so sick with worry over what was happening, he might have laughed at her antics.
Addy Fox was ridiculous, and he loved that about her.
In fact, he loved everything about her. And that was why he had dashed across England following her, and why he was presently standing at her hotel door with a pocket full of cheddar and sodden shoes.
Well, to be fair, he loved everything about her except for her running away from him without an explanation or even a goodbye. There was the troubling matter of her supposed betrothed, as well.
“We need to talk,” Lion told Addy firmly. “If you want me to announce our private affairs to everyone staying on this floor, I shall. But I would prefer not to do so.”
She sighed. “I don’t think we need to talk.”
“Addy, you ran away from me and boarded a train to London without so much as a farewell. I think we have a great deal to talk about.”
She stared at him, clearly waging a debate in her own head.
“Don’t marry Geoffrey Smith,” he said.
Her brow wrinkled. “His name is George, not Geoffrey, and I’m not marrying him.”
Relief washed over him. “Then marry me instead.”
“I’m not marrying you either, you…you…fortune hunting…curmudgeon!”
Her halting insults would have been amusing if not for two words. Fortune hunting. Suddenly, everything made sense.
Lion had believed Addy had run because he hadn’t proposed to her in the wake of their night together.
When his sisters and aunt and uncle had unceremoniously arrived at Marchingham Hall, he had been admittedly thrown.
Uncle Algernon and Aunt Helene had each had his ear, and Addy had tucked herself away in Lila’s room for hours upon end.
He’d still been struggling with his own feelings, trying to muddle through emotions he’d never thought to feel.
He’d thought he had time to propose to her in proper fashion on Christmas Eve.
When she had fled, he had thought he’d misread her, that he had tarried too long and she had grown upset with him. But now, he realized that she must have overheard that blasted uncomfortable conversation with Aunt Helene. His study door had been partially open, and he’d heard a creak.
What a fool he had been.
He wedged his foot deeper into the opening, leaning into her, tantalized by the faintest hint of violets and orris root. It had been only one day, and God how he had missed her.
Lion held her stare. “Let me in so that I may explain.”
“What is there to explain? Tell me, did you ever look at me and see just me, or did you look at me and see new carpets and a head gardener and the repairs for a leaky roof?” Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she finished, those verdant orbs turning impossibly greener.
Lion wedged his knee into the gap now. “Addy, when I look at you, I can assure you that carpets and repairs are furthest from my mind. All I see is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld.”
Dandy barked and began pawing at his leg in excitement. He patted her head. He had missed the little scamp as well.
“You’re just saying that because you’ve been caught out,” Addy accused, frowning.
He was getting nowhere, still doing his damnedest to get inside the bloody room. Lion sighed. Over his shoulder, he heard the commotion of other guests venturing into the hall, no doubt to see what the fuss was about.
“We’re going to start a scandal if you don’t let me in,” he told her, keeping his voice low.
“I think we’ve already started a scandal,” Addy returned grimly, peering past him into the hall before huffing an irritated sigh. “Very well. You may as well come in. I have no wish for my reputation to be dragged through the mud because you insist upon having an audience with me.”
She stepped back so suddenly that Lion nearly lost his footing. He stumbled into the hotel room and closed the door at his back, hoping this wasn’t an omen for the dialogue that was about to take place.
Her aunt was eyeing him as if he were a rodent that had scampered across her foot. Dandy, however, had no such reservations. She sat at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly. Lion offered her a bit of pocket cheese as a reward for her adulation. If only Addy were so easily swayed.
“You will find that neither my niece nor I are influenced by cheese,” the elder Miss Fox observed acidly, as if she had read his mind.
He cleared his throat. “Madam, I would appreciate a word in private with your niece.”
“I think not,” Miss Fox said sharply.
Heat crept up his throat. The notion of groveling before Addy’s aunt was most unpleasant, but he would do it if he had no other choice.
He turned to Addy, hating her obvious distress. Her sunshine smile was notably absent, and she looked as if she had been weeping. Knowing he was the cause for her upset made his gut churn.
“You overheard some of the conversation between myself and Aunt Helene,” he said.
Her chin went up. “I heard all of it that I needed to hear.”
“I think not.” Lion thought of the moment he’d heard a sound in the hall during his tête-à-tête with his aunt before dismissing it as nothing. “You heard only the beginning. You left before you heard the most important part.”