Chapter 1 #2
“Sir.” Elliot bowed deeply. “I am most grateful you came along. Thank you, for acting on my behalf.”
He reached out for Thalia’s elbow, obviously indicating that she ought to bow and thank the Duke, too.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, dipping into her best drawing room curtsy.
He might have encountered her here, in a place no lady ought to be, but that did not mean she was incapable of using her manners.
The Duke stepped forward, towering over both Elliot and her. She had thought the thugs’ shoulders were broad, but they were nothing to the Duke’s. No wonder the men had whimpered in his presence and run.
“Lady Thalia,” he said, her name a reprimand, which meant that he did recognize her. “What are you doing here in such a place?”
His gaze traveled to Elliot, whom he no doubt immediately condemned.
Thalia bristled. “Retrieving my friend from a rather unfortunate situation.”
“One she ought not to have attempted,” Elliot said, frowning at her.
The Duke merely glowered. He was particularly good at doing that, she noticed. He had been good at glowering when she had been in his library, and he had demanded she drink some Scotch to warm her bones while she begged for his favor.
How humiliating.
“Indeed,” the Duke said in his deep voice.
Thalia noticed the bandages wrapped around his knuckles, as though he had not merely stumbled across them but had been engaging in a bit of brawling earlier and come looking for a further fight.
She knew little enough about him, but she could believe that.
Elliot glanced between them, no doubt sensing the tension. “Lady Thalia,” he said, his voice thin with exhaustion. “Am I right in saying you already know this gentleman?”
She considered denying it, but there would be little point, and she doubted the Duke would engage in such subterfuge. “Yes. This is the Duke of Marrowhurst. Your Grace, this is Mr. Elliot Calloway, my—”
Here, she hesitated. The last she knew, the Duke had left town, no doubt to avoid any whispers or scandal that might have sprung to life after their engagement broke. She could hardly blame him for that. But now that he was back, she could not be certain if he would approach her father or not.
If he did, and he happened to bring up the fact that she was receiving instruction from Mr. Calloway, she would have her freedoms further restricted.
“—My friend,” she finished defiantly, raising her chin.
“Your Grace,” Elliot said, bowing his head.
His entire demeanor changed, shoulders folding in.
Although Elliot was a fashionable man living on the edge of London, it was purely by dint of his skill and repute, not his birth; a powerful man like Marrowhurst could do terrible things to a man such as Elliot Calloway.
“If you would be so good as not to mention this incident to another soul, I would be forever in your debt.”
The Duke of Marrowhurst, one of the most powerful men in England, grunted.
Thalia’s back stiffened in outrage. Perhaps Elliot had no title or prestige, but he was still worthy of respect.
Upon seeing her expression, the Duke’s brows rose. “Lady Thalia,” he said. “Did you have something to say?”
“Do you agree not to inform anyone”—specifically, her father— “of this incident?”
“I give my word.”
“Good.”
Elliot took her arm. “Perhaps we might leave?” he murmured. “I should escort you home.”
“Not yet,” the Duke said as she passed. His fingers grazed her arm, and she did her best not to notice the contact. Her breath tightened, chest constricting. “May I have a word with you, Lady Thalia?”
“If you must.” She folded her arms, looking up at him with as much impatience as she could summon. “What is it?”
“This is a dangerous place,” he said. “Particularly for a lady such as yourself.”
“But is it safe enough for other ladies?” She raised her brows. “Whereupon does the distinction lie? Is it a dangerous place for all ladies? How about gentlemen?”
The Duke’s gaze did not waver from her own. “I trust the night’s events have shown you the dangers that lie in wait.”
“If you are angling for another show of gratitude, I’m afraid I’m tired and have none to give,” she said while glaring up at him. “I appreciate all you have done for me, but my business is my own, and I am capable of handling my own affairs.”
“Until, that is, you are cornered in an alleyway with a group of thugs who would not think twice about disabling you?”
He leaned in a little closer, and her breath caught. He was so very large, and although she was not worried about him harming her, his proximity still did strange things to her heart and lungs.
“I recommend you think twice about entering such situations again. Not even for the sake of your—” Here he hesitated. “Friend.”
The implication that she might be romantically involved with Elliot nearly made her laugh, but she quelled the urge with some difficulty.
“I shall do as I please,” she informed him.
“If this is as you please, then I recommend choosing prudence instead.”
“Fortunately,” she said, articulating the words clearly so there could be no misunderstanding. Irritation fired in her bones. “Your opinion has no bearing on my dealings.”
Elliot made a sound in the back of his throat and took her arm. “Your carriage, Lady Thalia.”
She bristled. A desire surged within her to declare war against any man who so blatantly disregarded her independence and autonomy. But Elliot was right, and she ought to return home before her father discovered she was missing.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she said in as arctic tones as she could muster, not bothering to curtsy as she allowed Elliot to drag her away.
“What are you doing?” he hissed in her ear. “He is a duke.”
“I dislike a man—even a duke—thinking he has the right to tell me what to do.”
Elliot handed her into the carriage, waiting patiently by the side of the road, and followed her inside, looking at her as though she were mad. “Were you not engaged to him?”
“What does that matter? The engagement ended, and we did not marry. Thus, he has no right to interfere with my life.”
Thalia breathed a deep sigh of relief. She could admit now that she was safely closeted in the carriage that she was exceedingly grateful to the Duke for intervening in the alleyway.
But his rescue and his behavior afterward were entirely different matters; he had saved them in a moment of crisis, and she considered herself fortunate that he had come along. Still, he could not then dictate the things she could and could not do.
“Will he tell your father?” Elliot asked, no doubt bracing himself for the storm such a revelation would provoke.
Thalia attempted to consider the matter from a rational perspective. The Duke had been intervening, yes, but he had not threatened her with her father’s action, which led her to surmise he would not.
“No,” she said thoughtfully. “He is cold and can perhaps be cruel in his dealings, but he is a man of his word.”
After all, and she could not forget this, he had ended the engagement when she had asked him to and kept his promise not to betray her hand in the matter.
“But…” she said firmly, “I doubt he is in London for any great period of time, so I will not have to deal with him again.”