Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (6 page)

himself. “I’ve repaid my debt to you. You can have

nothing else from me.”

“Your debt is satisfied only when I say it is. That

pittance you’ve returned to me, yes, but where is my

interest? A man must have his pride.” With a swift move,

Prachett lifted the crop he’d been holding and brought it

down across Avery’s bicep.

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A hiss of pain escaped Avery, but he ignored it. “Your

damnable pride is naught to do with me.” He swung

at Prachett’s face, but the stinging pain in his arm cost

him focus. Prachett dodged the less- than- perfect blow as

drops of blood rained onto the straw.

“Oh, but it is, lad. Without you, Emersen has moved

up the ranks. He cannot be beaten. Except, perhaps…”

Prachett trailed off as he moved closer. “By you. The

Houndstooth tourney is soon, and you must enter.

You’ll lose there, and the wagers will turn against you.

By the time you face this new threat, I’ll have secured my

fortune in the betting books.”

Avery snarled as his anger overtook him. “Never

again. I have left that life behind.”

Prachett snapped his fingers, and three men burst into

the room. Avery fought like a wounded bear, striking

and kicking and struggling against his captors, but there

were too many. When they’d restrained him, pressing

his body into the straw beneath the bag, Prachett leaned

down and blew his foul breath across Avery’s face.

“If you will not do this for me, you may consider

your time on this earth over and done. I will not tolerate

another failure. I will not be shamed again.”

In answer, Avery spat in Prachett’s face.

Prachett shoved himself upright, dashing the spittle away

with a ragged and stained sleeve. “Lads, convince him.”

i

“And this is the conservatory.” Henrietta led Leah into a

room full of potted plants. The evening light shone through

the many windows, giving the greenery an almost- living

glow. The scent of damp earth hung heavy in the air.

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Leah looked around, nodding sagely. Sure, it was a

nice room, but the charade was starting to grate on her

nerves. Mrs. Harper would probably have a stroke if

they were late to dinner, and Henrietta wasn’t showing

any signs of backing down yet. It was getting tough

to maintain her patience with the girl. They’d already

traipsed through half the huge house without any sign

of the duke. And while the number of valuable and

interesting antiques was impressive, Leah was starving

and completely done with the hike.

“It’s very nice. But shouldn’t we be heading to

supper now?”

The girl crossed her arms over her middle, her mobcap

slipping to one side. “I told you, it’s been delayed.” She

pointed toward the back of the room. “The orchids are

quite lovely. They’re by the windows, just there.”

With a long- suffering sigh, Leah turned in the direction

Henrietta had indicated. A delicate white flower sat in a

small pot on a narrow table. She’d just bent to sniff it when the sound of a door slamming brought her head around.

She was alone. That little brat.

Leah crossed the conservatory toward the door,

muttering under her breath the whole time. Grabbing

the handle, she gave it a sharp twist.

It didn’t move.

Shaking the heavy door, she tried again. It was

locked. A curse escaped her and she slumped against

the solid wood.

This had been a lot harder than she thought, and she

hadn’t actually had to do any work yet. Was her duke

worth it? He had to be.

But
what
if
he
isn’t, and I got a job as a housemaid for
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nothing? What if Pawpaw is really sick, and I’m here chasing
an adventure instead of being there for him?
Uneasiness swirled in her middle, and she crossed her arms tight to

stifle it.

But then the thought of Jamie and Micah’s faces at

their wedding popped into her brain. It had been so

beautiful, as beautiful as
Pride
& Prejudice
had ever been. Pawpaw’s words echoed in her head.
You
find
him,
and you marry him, so when I’m dead and gone I know you’ll
be taken care of…
She shoved herself upright, straightening her mobcap determinedly. Not only was this for her future

and her happiness, this was for Pawpaw’s peace of mind.

Her man would be perfect for her, as perfect as Mr. Darcy

for Elizabeth or Antony for Cleopatra or even Romeo

for Juliet— well, hopefully without the mutual suicide bit.

Wading through the plants, Leah headed for the

nearest window. Here on the ground floor it should be

as simple as yank up the glass and hop to the grass, just in

time for dinner. Easy peasy.

Shoving a potted palm to the side, Leah stood on

tiptoe to reach the latch. It was just out of her reach.

Damn tall windows. Stretching farther, she was just able

to flick the edge enough to loosen the catch. Her breath

on the glass fogged her vision of the duke’s grounds, so

she almost missed him.

Almost.

Avery Russell was walking slowly toward the house,

his face and arms covered with bruises and crimson

splotches of blood. He looked like he’d been on the

wrong side of a mugging.

“Avery,” she breathed, fear streaming through her

brain. “What the hell?”

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Knocking the catch the rest of the way free, she shoved

up the window with a bang and was tumbling free before

her brain even had a chance to catch up. She had to go to

him. Something horrible must have happened.

Her mobcap flapped wildly and strands of hair

streamed free as she clapped a hand atop her head to

secure her required headgear.

“Avery,” she yelled as she ran. Damn, the yard wasn’t

that big. He had to hear her calling. “Avery, what

happened? Wait a second, let me…”

Her skidding stop sprayed gravel beneath her boots.

He’d entered the house without hesitating. He’d heard

her, hadn’t he? Why wouldn’t he stop? Making up her

mind quickly, she ran the last few steps that separated her

from the door he’d entered and sprinted up the stairs.

She’d find out what was going on whether he

wanted to or not.
But
what
about
supper, and Mrs. Harper?

her logical side nagged.
You’ll be in trouble if you’re late.

And you have to keep this job or you won’t meet the duke,
and Pawpaw…

She shook her head as she rounded the landing and

threw open the door of the duke’s bedchamber. It would

be okay. It had to be.

“Avery?” She kept her voice soft as she scanned the

large bedroom. “Are you in here?” No sign of him.

Ducking into the dressing room, she’d sat next to him

in, she scanned the smaller room for the valet. Nope.

Not here either.

“Where did he go?” she said aloud, her hands on

her hips. With a shake of her head, she turned to go.

Her breath left her body when she clapped eyes on the

bedroom’s new inhabitant.

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He was tall, with silvery gray hair and pale blue eyes

that seemed dedicated to a slight smolder. He appeared

to be in his early fifties or so. His features were angular,

all hollows and shadows and sharp bones, with shallow

wrinkles near his eyes and mouth. Slender, graceful, like

a predatory cat, he moved into the room. Dressed in

severe, unrelenting black, there was only one person he

could be.

Suddenly remembering her role as maid, Leah sank

into a deep curtsy. “Your Grace.” She hadn’t intended

to sound so self- conscious, but she was face- to- face with

a freaking
duke
. And not just any duke, but the duke that was destined to be hers forever. Wow. She hadn’t imagined snagging such a sugar daddy, though. She’d have to

think about how she felt about such a big age difference.

“Please tell Cook I shall dine at home tonight.” His

voice was softer than she’d imagined. Still masculine, but

refined, almost the polar opposite of Avery’s deep and

raspy male growl. He turned away from her with a polite

nod. She stood rooted to the spot, confusion refusing to

let her legs operate.

“At home, Your Grace?” she repeated, just in the

hopes he’d turn around.
Notice
me
, she yelled in her head.

Come
on, you’ve got to turn around and look at me!

“Yes, thank you.”

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, not both-

ering to look up from the small wooden box he’d picked

up on the bedside table. A gold ring glittered on his finger

as he pinched, and a sniff sounded loudly in the room.

Another pinch, another sniff. He tilted his head back and

sighed, his longish gray hair swaying with the movement.

Leah tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.

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“Very well, Your Grace.” Leah bobbed another unseen

curtsy and let herself out of the room, closing the door

with a soft click. Well, that wasn’t exactly the meeting

she’d pictured. It was tough to measure chemistry when

the guy wouldn’t even look at you.
And
he
looks
old!

Totally wasn’t expecting that.
She dismissed the thought with a heavy breath. It would just take some time.

A clock somewhere bonged the hour loudly, and Leah

winced as she turned and sprinted for the stairs. She’d

have to find Avery later. She had about thirty seconds to

get to the servant’s hall and be seated for dinner.

But no matter how quickly she descended the stairs,

she couldn’t outrun the twinge in her chest. Her feet grew

heavier with each step, slowing her progress. When she

reached the bottom of the staircase, she plopped down on

the lowest step and cradled her chin in her hands.

She’d met her man. He was handsome. His voice

wasn’t at all what she’d imagined. And— the thought of

the snuffbox made her shudder— she hadn’t wanted a

guy with any kind of substance dependencies. But the

duke wasn’t what had slowed her, stopped her like a

remote control car without any juice left.

She stood, turned, and ran back up the stairs as quickly

as she’d descended them.

i

Pink- stained water dripped back into the basin as Avery

wrung out the cloth. He dipped it again, letting the cool

water soak the fibers. It was hardly the first time he’d

tended to wounds here in his attic bedchamber, but he’d

hoped that he’d finally left those days behind him. It

seemed that he could not yet outdistance his past.

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Wincing as he pressed the cloth to his swollen cheek,

he blew out a breath. Prachett’s men had thrashed him

thoroughly, bruising and breaking his skin. They’d not

spared him, only relenting when he’d agreed to fight

in the Houndstooth.
Damn
and
blast
. He’d sworn he’d not set foot in the ring again. But what choice did they

leave him? If Prachett and his men killed him, then his

aunt could not last out the month. There was no one to

purchase her medicine or to pay for her lodgings and care

but Avery. He could not abandon her, no matter how

it cost him.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed as he draped the cool wet

cloth across the welt on his upper arm. Drops of water

ran in rivulets down his chest, dampening the fine spray

of hairs on that side. He clamped the rag to his skin and

set his teeth against the pain, squeezing his eyes shut.

He blew heavy breaths from his nose, feeling the steady

thump of his heartbeat in each welt, each bruise.

After another moment, the pain eased somewhat. He

lifted the now- hot cloth and dipped it into the basin again.

Leah’s anguished voice struck him like another blow

from the crop. “Oh my God, Avery, what the hell

happened to you?”

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Six

Vulnerability. That was the sensation that bubbled

angrily through his veins, clenched his teeth, and closed

his fists. The knowledge that he was exposed, bleeding and

wounded, and she was seeing him in this state turned him

into more of an animal than a man. He didn’t turn toward

her, keeping his gaze locked on the small window in front