“Of course not, you tore in as if the devil was after you.”
Adel allowed a smile to touch her lips, and she hoped it hid the sudden turmoil rioting through her. “Are the girls well?”
“As well as can be. They are at the Earl of Sheffield’s estate. Today is one of his girls’ birthday celebration, and they had traveled down with their new governess.”
“We left London quite suddenly with no time to alert the household of our arrival.”
The dowager duchess smiled kindly and rose from the chaise where she had been lounging. “I am sure my son must seem out of sorts today.”
“I…yes, he does, and I am flummoxed.”
Lady Harriet inhaled. “Foolish of me for hoping he had forgotten. When you departed with him to town, I had thoughtlessly believed he was moving forward.”
Adel frowned. “Please speak plainly, for I am at a loss.”
“Today is the anniversary of Maryann’s death.”
Oh, Edmond. Each year on the anniversary of her mother’s death, Adel found it hard to be joyful. She did try for Papa and her sisters, but it had always been a terrible ordeal. “I see.”
“I think, my dear, he should not be alone.”
“I… He has ridden away.”
“Yes, he has gone to the cottage on the eastern side of the estate, past the topiary gardens. He normally spends the night there when…when it comes to this time of the year. He said to me the very first year he disappeared there, that when he is here…he smells the blood and hears her wails.”
Adel flinched.
“Go to him, my dear, before the rain comes. He has never had a comforting presence at this time before, perhaps your company will be very welcome.”
Then she collected her book and walked from the room.
Adel stood frozen, indecision swirling through her. She wanted to hold him, to be a distraction from the pain that must pummel him. But what if he rejected her?
He smells the blood and hears her wails.
Such a memory must be hauntingly painful, and if she could provide any relief, she would be there for him. She hurried from the room to the parlor where she collected the game of Fox and Geese and a deck of cards. Then she ordered for a horse to be readied while she rushed to her chamber to change into a riding habit and half boots with the aid of her maid.
Less than thirty minutes later, Adel slid from the horse and allowed the reins to dangle. The journey had not been long, and she could have easily walked the distance if not for the inclement weather. As it was, the first cold drop of rain splashed on her cheek as she scrambled up the small steps of the cottage. She had not seen his horse, and she wondered if he was truly here. She rapped on the door with her knuckles and there was no answer. She twisted the knob and strolled inside.
“Leave.” His voice rumbled through the small but tastefully furnished cottage.
She found him in the semi-darkened room. He was sprawled in a large armchair, his boots off, his shirt half-open, a crystal decanter in one hand and a glass in another. He brought it to his lips, the strong column of his throat working as he swallowed. Then he refilled it.
“Lady Harriet told me,” Adel said calmly as she shrugged off her cloak and tugged off her gloves. She began to unbutton the jacket of her riding habit. “The cottage is cold. Will you start a fire?”
He narrowed his eyes, doing a good job of appearing menacing. But he stood, and placed his liquor on the small center table and walked over to the hearth, which he lit with an efficiency that surprised her.
“I have brought some games if you wish to—”
He stood and faced her. “I am not in the mood for games, Duchess.”
She met his eyes and froze. His face was flushed with arousal and something harder that she’d never spied before. It was then she noted the thrumming tension that held him rigid, the sensually cruel slant of his lips, and the dark torment in his eyes.
“What do you need?” she asked softly.
His jaw flexed and his hooded gaze seemed to pierce her. “You could leave.”
“Do you truly want me to?”