Free Realm 06 - A Touch of Love by Regina Jeffers

Lady Hellsman. In his life, Carter had never experienced an obsession of the heart. Other than his work and his compulsion to rise in the governmental ranks, he had never acted foolishly. “I insist you accompany me when I call upon the lady. Mrs. Warren will be more forthcoming if she recognizes your support.”
    The duke paused before saying, “I suppose it is best, but I would prefer the others knew nothing of this request. If either Eleanor or Lady Yardleybecomes aware of my intervention, the duchess will discover of my actions, and I will have hell to pay.”
    Carter kept his disapproval from his countenance. “Send word to the lady, I require more details before I can act.”

“A re you certain of the lady’s directions?” Carter asked as they looked up at the sandstone building.
    Thornhill frowned dramatically. “I held no idea Mrs. Warren had slipped into such distress. The lady is the niece of the Earl of Charleton,” he said incredulously.
    Two street urchins rushed forward to take their reins as they climbed down. Carter fished a coin from his pocket. “Walk them to keep them fresh,” he ordered. “There is another coin for the one who protects my mount.”
    “Aye, Sir,” the oldest of the two replied.
    Thornhill slipped another coin in the child’s tight fist. “We mean to call in at number twelve. Come for us if there is any sign of trouble.”
    “We understand,” the smaller of the two declared. “They be fine animals, and we be knowin’ our duty.”
    Carter followed Thornhill to the door and waited for his friend to release the knocker. “I have seen worse streets in London,” Carter said softly, “But I do not like the idea of Mrs. Warren taking sanctuary among these people.”
    Thornhill’s gaze followed Carter’s. “I feel guilty for not keeping in contact with Mrs. Warren. I used her shamelessly at my sister’s Come Out to make Velvet jealous.”
    Carter murmured, “If I recall, the duchess and Godown held similar ideas to entice you to act impulsively.”
    The duke chuckled. “We were once the destructive ones.”
    Before Carter could respond, the door swung wide to reveal a matronly woman of a sizeable girth. She eyed Thornhill with awe. “May I be of service, Sir?” she asked with a wobbly curtsy.
    Thornhill shot Carter a wry glance. “The Duke of Thornhill and Sir Carter for Mrs. Warren.” His friend did not bother to present his card. They were obviously not of the neighborhood.
    “Yes, Your Grace.” The woman bobbed another curtsy. “Mrs. Warren informed me of your call. The lady awaits you in the parlor.” She motioned them to follow her along a shadowed hallway. Carter noted a small boy lurking at the bend of the stairs. He involuntarily wondered if the child was the boy in question. If so, the child possessed the features of one who had only of late called England home.
    “The Duke of Thornhill and Sir Carter,” the woman announced as she opened a door inward on what appeared to be a sitting room and study combined.
    Over the duke’s shoulder, Carter caught sight of the woman he had spent the previous three days attempting to define beyond the image he held of that long ago evening. Carter had thought he knew what to expect, but his heart slamming into his ribcage announced the error of his earlier musings. Although she was conservatively dressed in a well-worn day dress, his mind and body took exquisite pleasure in gazing upon one of the most handsome women of his acquaintance.
    Her hair–golden blond, mixed with darker strands–was pulled back in a tight knot at her nape, but Carter recognized the natural wave as a ring of curls had escaped to frame her face. A long dormant tingle shot through his veins as he raised his eyes to meet her gaze. Large hazel eyes–the type, which would live with a man forever–returned his notice before the lady dropped her gaze and curtsied. “Thank you for the honor you have bestowed upon me, Your Grace,” she said