Chapter Thirty
Chapter
THIRTY
With hindsight, as Portia spluttered in shock, Leo realized he probably could have clapped the paltry flames out rather than douse Portia in a giant vase full of water. But he had panicked and acted on instinct.
Now she was a sodden mess standing in a puddle as she blinked at him open-mouthed. Her sooty eyelashes were spiked with moisture and the ridiculously tall fan of ostrich feathers were now a limp and dripping arc of broken spines.
“Thanks a lot, Leo!” That came out of severely gritted teeth. “As I do not think that there is a bit of me left that isn’t now thoroughly drenched!”
Still holding the vase, he scanned the length of her and smiled sheepishly because she was right.
The already tight bodice of her gown now molded to her like a second skin and the enormous water stain on the heavy silk brocade of her skirt rendered the fabric several shades darker than the rest of the dress.
It had also done something bizarre to the once artful drape that had made it collapse on one side.
“But on the bright side, at least your head isn’t on fire. ”
“It wouldn’t have been on fire in the first place if you hadn’t bent me into the candelabra!”
“Also true.” He wanted to laugh because she did look funny, but bit it back because she was clearly distressed about it. “My apologies.”
“Now I am going to a be a laughingstock on top of an unwelcome spectacle, aren’t I?
All the newspapers tomorrow are going to be calling me the Drenched Duchess rather than the Delinquent Duchess.
The stupid, clumsy, and common upstart who had no place being in a palace and certainly has no clue how to behave like a real lady while they tolerated her presence. ”
He wished he could deny that, but knew that was exactly what would happen if anyone here caught a glimpse of her. “Not if we sneak out without anyone seeing us, they won’t.”
“How do you suppose we manage that with half of Mayfair in attendance, genius?”
“Well…” He scratched his head as he surveyed the room. “There is a window over there that we can climb out of, and I am sure we’ll find a suitable route to freedom once we’re outside.”
She grabbed the edge of her sodden train and shook it in her fist. “You want me to climb out of that skinny window in this cumbersome gown?”
“It’s either that, or we take our chances back out in that corridor.”
“Marvelous.” She stomped over to it, her lovely eyes shooting him daggers as he wrestled with the ancient latch and flung it open. “Please tell me there isn’t a hideous drop right onto the street.”
Leo leaned out to do some reconnaissance. “Thankfully, this leads to an empty courtyard.” He held out his hand. “But there is a bit of a drop so I’ll have to lower you down.”
“This just gets better and better.” She took his hand and allowed him to lift her onto the sill, then they both had to fight with her skirts so that she could fling her legs over it.
A sight he couldn’t help enjoying. Almost as much as he had enjoyed hearing how flummoxed his impromptu kiss of a few hours ago still made her.
She stared down at the drop dubiously. “Now what?”
“Twist slightly and hold my hands tight, then gently ease yourself over and I’ll hang on for grim death until your feet touch the ground.”
“Or you drop me.”
“I won’t drop you, Portia, I promise. I would allow my arms to dislocate from my shoulders before I let you fall.”
“Huh!” was her response to that, but she did as he suggested.
With much grunting and groaning on both of their parts, she successfully made it to the ground without injury and immediately started grumbling about the indignity, as well as her heavy wet dress and stupid, ruined feathers that were all thanks to him.
She glared up at him as he flung his first leg over the sill and wagged her finger at him like a stern schoolmistress.
“If I catch pneumonia after you soaked me and I die, do not be in doubt that I shall find a way to come back and haunt you, Leopold Sloane!”
That was when he heard approaching voices.
Lots of approaching voices his angry, ranting wife was unaware of.
“First you get me charged for a crime I didn’t commit and then you try to drown me!”
“Shhhh.” He gave her a warning look as he jerked his head behind to try to convey that they were about to have company, but she took umbrage at his tone.
“Don’t you dare shush me, Leo! I am not and never will be a blindly obedient chattel and—”
“Spare me the lecture,” he hissed, “because the king’s cronies are coming!”
Her eyes and mouth widened to saucers but the doorknob had begun to turn before he could get his second leg over, so Leo had no choice but to take a leap of faith and throw himself out.
And for some reason, Portia tried to catch him and got caught in her wet train, so they both ended up on their backsides on the gravel just as all the king’s cronies spilled inside the cardroom.
In silent, tacit agreement, they scrambled on their hands and knees out of sight of the window before he helped her up. Then hand in hand, and with a handful of soggy train each, they hugged the wall as they hurried for cover under one of the archways.
It took Leo a minute to get his bearings.
“The main entrance is just behind us, and we want to avoid that, but we might be able to find another exit that isn’t quite so public.”
“If we are able to break back into the palace from this courtyard, that is.” Being an eternal cynic, Portia wasn’t convinced. “Then hope to find an unlocked side door despite the king currently being here and his doors being heavily guarded.”
“I will get us out, oh ye of little faith.” He tested a door and grinned smugly as he swept his arm toward it. “Look—no locks and no guards.”
“But we are back in the palace where someone will see me.”
Leo ignored that to sniff the air. “I can smell baking, can’t you?”
“What has that got to do with the price of fish?” Portia was too busy being annoyed at him to be able to think beyond it. Something that reminded him so much about how his happily married parents had always bickered that it gave him a bit more hope for them.
“It means that there is a kitchen nearby and where there is a kitchen, there is usually a servant who can be bribed.” He grabbed the full weight of her ruined train and followed the scent of baking bread, tugging her along behind him with a face like thunder.
It wasn’t long before they heard the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, so he left Portia huddled out of sight in a dark corner and strode in. The first person to spy him was a young scullery maid who couldn’t have been much more than fourteen.
“Excuse me.” He shot her his most charming smile. “I don’t suppose you could show me a way out of the palace where nobody will see me leave?” He subtly showed her a shiny silver crown as an incentive, which was probably more than she earned in a week.
“Of course, sir.” She bobbed a curtsy, checked that nobody else had spotted the coin, and scurried past him, suddenly eager to help. Once out of earshot of her coworkers, she said, “The servants’ entrance will take you straight out on to Stable Yard Road, just off Cleveland Row.”
“Excellent—just give me a second to grab my wife, who if anyone asks, you haven’t ever seen.” Leo placed the crown into the girl’s palm and winked. “Try not to notice the state she is in either as it’s all my fault and a bit of a sore point.”
To give the young maid credit, she did not blink an eye when she spotted Portia and, true to her word, within minutes they were safely on the street outside without another soul seeing them.
“Didn’t I tell you that I would get you out?” He hurried her into a deserted side street and tugged her into the first decent sized doorway they passed. “Now take off those ruined feathers before any pedestrians spot you.”
“Why don’t you take them off seeing as you are apparently such an expert at removing hairpins while I try and detach this stupid train?
” If he was not mistaken, there was more than a hint of jealousy in her snippy tone.
“I’ll be swifter on my feet if I am not dragging ten years of sopping wet brocade behind me. ”
He knew that he shouldn’t build his hopes up when all he had was two paragraphs of an unfinished essay to go on, but he could not help being pleased by her reaction. “You say that as if my previous experience with hairpins bothers you.”
“I can assure you that I have no interest whatsoever in the many notches on your bedpost, Leo.” Except her face said differently, despite how she tried to cover her irritation by yanking at some fastening at her hip.
“I’m sure there are plenty of women out there daft enough to positively throw themselves at you, what with your illustrious title and all. ”
She refused to look at him even when he started removing her hairpins and so he could not resist teasing her a little bit more.
“It is hardly my fault that not every woman has your visceral aversion to being with a duke. Some even find me charming as well as impressively ducal. In fact, it’s just you that finds me abhorrent. ”
Something ripped as she tugged hard on her train, and she huffed. “I don’t find you abhorrent, Leo. I never have. I just have a problem with all this.” One of her arms swept back toward the palace as if he suddenly owned it. “The fundamental principles of your world conflict with mine.”
“So it is more my title you don’t want to be with and not the man?”
She didn’t deny it and more hope sprung eternal. “Things would be simpler if you were just Leo.”
“I am just Leo—only Leo also happens to be a duke.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
Yes, they very much did if that was the only thing keeping them apart. “Tell me, now that you have a title too, your grace, do you suddenly feel less like Portia?”
“That’s different. I came by mine by accident.”
“Because I insisted that my father plant me in my mother’s womb when he did?”