Chapter 12 #2
His mouth curved into that devastating smirk. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “Just follow my lead.”
His hand at her back pressed more firmly, his fingers splaying across the silk of her gown in a touch that felt almost possessive. Joan’s breath caught in her throat.
He said Octavia was only his friend’s sister, Joan thought desperately. But they looked so close. And she touched him so familiarly. What if he wasn’t being truthful? What if they do have an understanding?
“You might make her misunderstand,” Joan whispered, unable to keep the words inside.
The Duke spun her suddenly, the movement so swift and unexpected that Joan gasped. He caught her easily, pulling her back against his chest, one arm wrapped securely around her waist while his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head.
They were pressed together now, closer than propriety allowed, and Joan could feel the warmth of him through the thin silk of her gown. She could feel his heartbeat.
He stroked her hair gently, his fingers threading through the carefully arranged curls. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough with something Joan didn’t dare name.
“I was right,” he murmured. “Red does look exquisite on you.”
Joan felt herself melting into his embrace, all her reservations and fears dissolving in the warmth of his arms. She rested her head against his chest, just for a moment, and let herself pretend.
Later that night, Peters guided them back to Fairfax Manor, the night dark and quiet around them. Victoria had fallen asleep against Joan’s shoulder, exhausted from the evening’s excitement and perhaps from the glass of wine she’d consumed.
Joan stroked her sister’s hair absently, trying desperately not to think about the Duke’s arms around her. About the way he had held her so close, as though she belonged to him. About the rough timbre of his voice when he’d said red looked exquisite on her.
Stop it, she commanded herself. He was simply being polite.
But even as she thought it, she could still feel the phantom warmth of his hand at the small of her back.
The manor came into view, its windows dark save for a single lamp burning in the entrance hall. Peters brought the carriage to a stop, and Joan carefully shifted Victoria to wake her.
“We’re home, dearest,” she murmured.
Victoria stirred but didn’t fully wake, mumbling something incoherent before settling deeper into sleep.
Peters opened the carriage door and then stopped abruptly, his weathered face creasing with surprise.
“Miss Sinclair,” he said carefully. “Someone seems to be waiting outside the mansion.”
Joan’s heart leapt into her throat. Julian. It has to be Julian. He’s found us.
She practically shoved Victoria at Peters and scrambled from the carriage, her red silk skirts tangling around her legs in her haste.
But the figure that emerged from the manor’s entrance wasn’t Julian Hawthorne.
“Damian!” Joan’s voice broke on her brother’s name.
He strode forward and caught her in a fierce embrace, lifting her clean off her feet despite her elaborate gown. “Hello, Joan.”
“What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Did Julian—”
“Hush.” Damian set her down gently. “I’m fine. You’re fine. I simply missed my sisters.”
But Joan knew her brother too well to believe that was the only reason for his unexpected arrival. She opened her mouth to press him further, but Peters cleared his throat.
“Begging your pardon, Lord Sinclair, but Miss Victoria is still in the carriage. Asleep.”
Damian immediately moved to the carriage and carefully extracted Victoria from the seat. She stirred slightly as he lifted her, her head lolling against his shoulder.
“Too much excitement,” Joan murmured, following her brother into the house. “She danced every dance. I don’t think I’ve seen her so happy in months.”
They made their way upstairs to the room Joan and Victoria shared.
Damian laid Victoria gently on the bed while Joan began the careful work of removing her sister’s dancing slippers.
Sarah appeared with a basin of water and a cloth, and Damian took them with a nod of thanks, settling beside the bed to gently wipe Victoria’s face.
Joan watched her brother tend to their sister with such careful devotion and felt her throat tighten. They had all raised each other, in the end. All learned to be both child and parent, sibling and guardian.
Victoria sighed in her sleep, a small smile curving her lips. Whatever she was dreaming of, it was pleasant.
Damian tucked the blankets around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he rose and gestured for Joan to follow him.
They ended up in the overgrown garden behind the manor, where a stone bench offered a view of the star-strewn sky. The night air was cold, but Joan’s elaborate gown and the lingering warmth of the wine kept her from feeling chilled.
Damian settled beside her with a heavy sigh. “That’s a beautiful dress. New?”
“A gift,” Joan said quietly. “From the Duke. For my work assisting him.”
“The Duke.” Damian’s tone was carefully neutral.
Damian was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Julian sent men here. To find Victoria.”
Joan’s blood turned to ice. “When?”
“They arrived yesterday. I intercepted them before they could reach the village.” Damian’s voice was grim. “I paid them handsomely to report back to Julian that neither of you were here. That Fairfax Manor stood empty.”
“Will he believe them?”
“For now, perhaps. But Julian is desperate, Joan. His courtesan, she stole documents from him. Important documents related to his business affairs. She leaked them out of spite after he tried to cast her out.” Damian ran a hand through his hair.
“His reputation is in tatters. He’s at risk of losing his title entirely if the Crown decides to investigate the allegations in those documents. ”
Joan inhaled sharply. “Then he needs Victoria more than ever. Marrying a respectable woman, especially one he was already betrothed to would be his only hope of salvaging anything. No other family would have their daughter associate with him.
“Exactly.” Damian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “He won’t stop looking for her. The men I paid off today won’t be the last. He’ll send more. Eventually, one of them will be clever enough or persistent enough to find you.”
“We can’t relocate now,” Joan said. “We have no money for it. And if we try to flee, Julian will simply force us back to London. At least here, we have some distance. Some warning if he comes.”
“But for how long?” Damian’s frustration was evident in every line of his body. “How long can we hide? How long can we keep Victoria safe?”
Joan reached out and placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’ll lay low for a while. Be cautious. Keep Victoria close to home. And we’ll figure things out, just as we always have.”
Damian leaned against her, his head resting on her shoulder in a gesture that reminded Joan of when he was fourteen years old and trying so desperately to be brave. “I’m grateful for you. You know that, don’t you? For everything you’ve done to hold this family together.”
“And I’m grateful for you,” Joan replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
But even as she said the words, Joan felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her chest. How long could they hide? How long before Julian’s desperation drove him to extremes they couldn’t anticipate?
And what would happen to the school, to the children who were finally learning to trust her, if she had to flee?
The next morning, Joan sent word to the children through Peter that she had caught a cold and Victoria would be taking over lessons for a few days. She assigned generous homework to keep them occupied and promised to return as soon as she was well.
Then she sat at the small writing desk in her chamber and penned a careful note to the Duke.
Your Grace,
I regret to inform you that I have taken ill with a cold and will be unable to attend to my duties at your estate for several days. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and will return to my work as soon as I am recovered.
Respectfully,
Miss J. Sinclair
She sealed the letter and handed it to Peters with instructions to deliver it immediately.
Then she sat by the window, watching the road and wondering how she was going to protect Victoria from a desperate man with nothing left to lose.