Citit - The Duke of Desire by Darcy Burke

Author:Darcy Burke [Burke, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-27T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Stour’s Edge, Suffolk, a fortnight later

The dreary weather perfectly matched West’s mood. He’d been home for several days now after riding helter-skelter to catch up with Townsend. The viscount had been shocked and frightened when West had found him and Miss Forth-Hodges at a coaching inn. The lady had been surprisingly resolute as well as unyielding. She’d made it clear that she understood the damage to her reputation and didn’t care. She only cared about marrying Townsend.

West had negotiated the terms of the marriage settlement as Forth-Hodges had indicated and then accompanied them to Gretna Green, where they’d been happily wed. They may have gone about things the wrong way, but West had never subscribed to a “right” way, and their happiness was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, the weather had turned awful, and the rain had prevented him from arriving at Greensward before the house party had ended. He’d missed Ivy by one day. One terrible, infuriating day. He scowled at the gray River Stour wending its way past his estate in the distance like a serpent on the hunt.

He abruptly turned back to his desk and tried to focus on the matters of running his estate. Thankfully, he had a capable and attentive steward and a blindingly efficient secretary.

The latter, a fellow about five years West’s senior and who could best be described as a wily grasshopper in appearance and demeanor, stalked into West’s office with a stack of letters. “The post has arrived, Your Grace.” He set the missives on the desk in front of West.

“Thank you, Hemphill.”

West eyed the mail acrimoniously. Every day he tore through it, hopeful for a letter from Ivy. And every day he was disappointed.

“Anything of interest there before I weed through it?” Hemphill asked.

The secretary always gave West his mail before opening it so that he could scan for letters from women seeking his services. Hemphill was more than aware of West’s liaisons and in some cases helped with arrangements—leasing houses or coordinating travel.

West waved at the secretary. “Have a seat, if you will.”

Hemphill deposited himself in the chair in front of the hearth.

West sorted through the missives until he came across one that was in a feminine hand. It wasn’t the first he’d received since arriving home. But would it be from the one woman he wanted most to hear from?

He tore it open, and his heart stopped for the barest moment. It was from her.

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