“Hey,” she said, pausing for a second. “I didn’t embarrass you too bad, did I?”

He gave a half smile. “Get about your duties, Miss Ramsey. No time to be dawdling now.”

She smiled back, curious at the heavy twinge in her chest as she turned and walked away from him. Avery. She hadn’t thought about leaving him at Granville House. He’d been so kind to her, the only real friend she’d had in this time before she met Lady Chesterfield. And honestly, she wasn’t sure how she’d get along without him.

She set the tray in the bustling scullery and stepped out into the area to catch a breath of air. The late afternoon wind was chilly, and she shivered. Tilting her chin skyward, she closed her eyes and filled her lungs. Things were so odd here. Everything, not just the lack of electricity and the ridiculous workload—the way she felt.

Back home, she knew what she wanted. She always acted first and thought later. But here she found herself second-guessing every move she made. What had caused this crisis of confidence? Could she fix it? Should she?

A bitter laugh escaped her. Well, her second-guessing wasn’t getting her out of any trouble. As it was, she had stepped in it way more often than not here. Avery would probably be glad to see her go. She’d caused him enough problems already.

She shook her head, straightened her apron, and headed back into the fray. She had a rout to clean up after, a bag to pack, and a resignation to give.

It was time for Leah to hurtle headlong into her future. And that was just the way she liked it.

Fourteen

Avery could not relax until the carriages rolled to a stop beside Granville house. Even then, after the hampers were unloaded, and the servants had gone about their final duties of the night, tension lined his shoulders and clenched his teeth. Miss Ramsey may have avoided the dowager’s wrath, but what could she have been doing so long with Lady Chesterfield? The woman was mischievous, clever, and as eccentric as any matron of the ton could ever hope to be. He did not know what she was about. How could he prevent Miss Ramsey from falling prey to a bored baroness’s scheme? Simple. He could not.

The duke had gone straight from his mother’s rout to his nightly amusements and would not be back until the wee hours of the morning. With his own duties completed and the preparations made for their departure on the morrow, Avery had nothing pressing to attend to, and his beleaguered brain made free reign of the lack. Pacing along the back edge of the dark garden, he set his mind to wander where it willed.

Miss Ramsey wanted the duke. She was beautiful enough for any man, he was quite sure. And compassionate—he’d seen that in the way she’d looked at his ailing aunt. Why did he long to see her looking upon him with compassion and—dare he think it—regard in her eyes?

Spinning with a soundless roar, Avery plunged his fist into the oak’s trunk. The tree shuddered, raining leaves down around him. His knuckles stung with the ache of fresh scrapes. The pain eased the anxiety that had built in his chest at the words he could not think.

He must not think them.

Shaking out his hands, relishing the numbing pain of them, he sank down onto a garden bench and looked up into the branches that had showered him with greenery. God could be so cruel. His father had taught him that.

In his mind’s eye, he had always pictured God with the face of his father, sitting on a throne and pointing down at Avery with a scowl on his face. No matter what Avery had done, it had never seemed to please either of them.

He dug his fingers into the stone bench on either side of him. And when he’d decided it didn’t matter and stood up for the one person in the world who’d loved him, she’d paid with her life.

He was not good enough to pursue Miss Ramsey. She had proved tonight that she was quick, clever, and strong enough to pursue the best in the land. And Avery was the farthest thing from what she deserved. He’d keep his distance, no matter the cost.

Shoving to his feet, he turned and walked toward the stables. Better to hit his training bag than an innocent tree anymore. If his dark thoughts were prone to destruction, then he should be in a safe place, away from living things that could come to harm because of him.

He’d just passed the entrance to the area when Miss Ramsey exited the kitchen door.

“Hey,” she said, her beautiful smile stretching her lips. Her hair wisped out from beneath her mobcap, and her cheeks were stained pink with excitement. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Even though he longed to smile back at her, he did not. He could not. Looking away, he spoke toward the stables.

“My apologies, but I must be on my way. I have duties…”

“Come on, Avery, even I know the duke is out on the town tonight.” He flinched as she laid a careless hand on his forearm. “I need to tell you something.”

Pulling free of her grasp as carefully as he could, he turned to face her. Her tone was much too serious to ignore, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise. He nodded toward the garden he’d just come from.

“If you must, then please speak in the garden. It is more private.”

She walked in the direction he indicated. Tapping his thigh with anxious fingers, he tried to ignore the sway of her skirts. She drove him mad with the simplest of movements. Although he’d been with other women before, none of them made his blood fire in his veins like she did. With tremendous effort, he restrained the growing interest in his loins.

When they reached the bench by the oak, Miss Ramsey sat down and stretched her feet out in front of her with a grateful sigh.

“Gosh, that’s better.” She bent down and removed her boots, wiggling her stockinged feet in the night air. “Holy crap, this feels good.” Propping her ankle on her knee, she rubbed her abused toes.

He averted his gaze. What a pitiful man he was, tempted by a slender female foot. Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You wished to speak with me?”

She dropped her foot and looked up at him, the vibrant blue of her eyes shining with excitement and just a tinge of regret. She opened her mouth to speak, but just then a voice called from the kitchen doorway.

“Ramsey,” Cook called. “Mrs. Harper is asking for ye. Look sharp, my girl.”

Miss Ramsey groaned and shoved her feet into her boots. “That housekeeper makes the Stormtroopers look soft and cuddly. Can I catch you later?”

Avery nodded. “Of course.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, Avery. You’re the best.”

Worry grabbed hold of his spine as she walked away. Whatever she’d been about to tell him had been important. He did not know her very well, but he knew that she would not waste his time idly.

With a lingering glance at the setting sun, Avery set off toward the training room. Although he no longer felt the burning need to punish his body as he had before, the exercise would calm him.

And with the tempest roaring in his soul, that was a comfort he sorely needed.

* * *

When Leah’s head finally hit the pillow, she was beyond exhausted and was somewhere between La-La- Land and Completely Punchy. She fought the urge to giggle as she rolled to her side with a smile.

No more scrubbing chamber pots and toting ash buckets. She was going to be like a Regency era Eliza Doolittle, only without the slipper fetching for Professor Higgins. She nearly cracked her jaw with a yawn as Henrietta flopped into bed behind her. Leah rolled her eyes as a bony heel connected with her calf. And to think she’d actually wondered if the little demon would miss her.

“Oh heavens! A spider!” Henrietta screamed.

The bed jostled violently. Henrietta’s full-blooded shriek had Leah leaping out of bed and reaching for the

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