“I don't intend to let this pass, Phoebe.”
“What do you propose to do, have me abducted against my will?”
He gave her a look of such surprised horror that Phoebe knew she'd been right. He wasn't associated with the men who tried to abduct her the night Kiernan had done the same. Who was the other would-be kidnapper?
Adam came to stand before her. “I know who this Ashlund is. Rich as the devil himself. So that’s it, is it?”
“I don't find this side of you very becoming, sir.”
“There is no other explanation.”
“Aside from being tiresome, Mr. Branbury, you border on insulting. The affair is none of your concern.”
“I wouldn't have thought it of you,” he said.
She regarded him. “What are you saying?”
“You know perfectly well what I am saying. All the while playing the innocent with me, you were—”
“Adam,” Phoebe cut in, “I understand you feel slighted, though, God knows, you have no call, but I won't sit in my own house and be insulted.”
A sharp rap sounded on the door. Gaylon opened the door and stepped inside. “Pardon the intrusion, Miss, but you have another visitor.”
“Good Lord, who—" Phoebe halted, realizing that the newest arrival was in all likelihood Adam’s rival. She stood. “Perhaps you should have the visitor shown into the parlor, Gaylon.” Even as she spoke, Gaylon stepped aside and a finely dressed woman entered the room.
“Elise MacGregor,” Gaylon announced, “the Duchess of Ashlund.”
Phoebe gaped at the woman who looked nothing like the duchess she had expected. She knew the duke to be at least fifty, but the dark haired woman standing before her could be no more than thirty-six, maybe thirty-seven, and she radiated a youth that belied even that age. A faint twitch at the duchess’ mouth told Phoebe her thoughts reflected on her face.
“Your Grace.” Phoebe dipped into a deep curtsey, then rose. “Please, Your Grace,” she looked toward Adam, “may I introduce Mr. Branbury.”
Adam strode to the duchess and bent over her hand in a formal bow. “Your Grace.” He released her and stepped back.
“Have I come at a bad time?” the duchess asked.
“No, Your Grace,” Phoebe said, “not at all.”
“I will ask two favors,” the duchess said.
“Anything you wish.”
“First, don't address me as ‘Your Grace.’ I tolerate that only at court and certain parties. You may call me Elise.”
“But you—madam,” Phoebe said, genuinely shocked, “I couldn't.”
“You can. As for the second favor, may we sit down?”
“By heavens, yes.” Phoebe motioned to the sofa. “Gaylon, please have tea sent in. Mr. Branbury," Phoebe gave him a curt nod, "I believe our visit is finished.”
“I have come at an inconvenient time,” Elise said.
“I assure you, Your-er, Elise, you have not.” She turned to Adam. “Mr. Branbury, Gaylon will see you out.”
Adam gave her a hesitant glance and Phoebe feared he might force a scene, but he nodded and followed Gaylon out of the room. Phoebe seated herself next to her guest.
“Please forgive me for coming unannounced,” the duchess said. “To be honest, I didn't want to give you the opportunity to avoid me.”
“I assure you, I would have done nothing of the kind.”
Elise laughed. “Maybe not, but I wouldn’t have blamed you, if you did.” She added, “I am a surprise to you?”
“I hadn't expected you, ma’am."
The duchess laughed. “Of course you didn’t.” She leaned forward, a twinkle in her eye, and said in confidential tones, “I don’t think my husband did either.” She raised her eyes heavenward in a fashion that said she found the whole thing humorous. “And Kiernan was most surprised of all.” Elise gave her an impish look. “Serves him right, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I couldn’t say, ma’am,”
“Phoebe,” Elise paused. “May I call you Phoebe?”
“Of course.”
“Phoebe, my husband has explained how you and Kiernan became acquainted. Kiernan deserves to be thrashed.” She snorted. “Don’t think his father didn’t consider it. The only consolation was the rogue didn't try to weasel out of his responsibility.”
A knock sounded on the door. Both women looked up as the door opened and a maid entered with a tea tray. She set the tray on the table in front of the sofa.
“That'll be fine,” Phoebe said. “I’ll pour.”
The girl bobbed a curtsey, then backed out of the room.
Phoebe lifted the teapot and poured. “Sugar?” she asked.
“Lemon,” Elise replied, “no sugar.”
Phoebe complied, then handed the cup to her.
“Now,” the duchess said, “what were we talking about? Oh, yes, Kiernan not weaseling out of his responsibility.”
“Indeed,” Phoebe replied, pouring cream into her cup of tea.
The duchess sipped the tea, then replaced her cup on the saucer. “And we have arrived at the heart of the reason for my visit.” She smiled. “Aside from wanting to meet you, of course. I understand you aren't keen on marrying Kiernan.”