There was no point in quarrelling about that now. ‘Grandfather told me I must consider proposals,’ she said bitterly. ‘I disliked Dryton on sight, but I suppose all the rest will be as bad. It is so hypocritical, these double standards for men and women.’ She fell silent, wishing the blinds were up so she could at least look out of the window and pretend this was not happening. Coward. ‘Quin—’
‘No, I do not, if you are about to ask me if I keep a mistress,’ Quin said. ‘I am not a monk, I have liaisons. I believe that marriage vows are made to be kept,’ he added.
That is nice for Lady Caroline, Cleo thought. Has he asked her yet? Perhaps the duke’s imperious summons had interrupted his courtship. He must be so weary of her. ‘You had best take me back to Grosvenor Square. I cannot see there is anything to talk about.’
‘I think there is,’ Quin said. The carriage turned sharply and then stopped. ‘Here we are. Pull down your veil, Cleo.’
She stepped down into a rectangular courtyard of red brick with what looked like an impressive house at one end. Quin paid the driver and brought them through the wide door under its elaborate fanlight. In front of them stretched a long paved corridor, open at the sides.
Quin nodded to a porter and led them along it. ‘My chambers are along here. Hurry, I do not want you seen.’ He opened a door, calling, ‘George!’
‘My lord.’ The secretary Cleo remembered from her arrival in London appeared from a room in his shirtsleeves. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Woodward. Excuse my undress.’
‘George. Pack a bag, take money for a few days and escort Miss Maggie here to her family, send to let me know where you are and stay in the area until you hear from me. I want Miss Maggie looked after and I do not want you involved in this any more than you are already.’
‘Miss Cleo needs me,’ Maggie protested as the secretary nodded and disappeared back into the room
‘She has me. The duke is not a man to take kindly to being thwarted. If he should decide to cast blame on you for this, I want you somewhere safe. I wouldn’t put it past him to have you arrested for kidnapping or procuring if the mood takes him.’
‘Ready, my lord. I’ve taken fifty pounds from the strong box. Off we go, Miss Maggie.’
‘But—’
‘Go,’ Cleo urged. ‘Lord Quintus is right, I do not want you blamed in any way. I will write,’ she called as George took Maggie’s arm, checked which was her bag and hurried her out, still faintly protesting.
She was alone now, with only Quin between her and her gilded prison.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘In here.’ Quin opened the door to a sitting room. ‘Off with your bonnet and pelisse and make yourself comfortable. We have planning to do.’ He tugged the bell pull as she obeyed, still too tired and shocked to protest. Everything was happening too fast and none of it was good, not even being with Quin. That just hurt.
‘My lord?’ A dapper little man, a valet, Cleo supposed, came in. ‘Ma’am.’
‘Miss Woodward, this is Godley. Godley, you have become exceedingly unobservant, I trust? Excellent. Please make up the bedchamber Mr Baldwin uses when he stays over. Hot water, of course, but first tea, I think.’
‘You want me to stay? To hide here?’ Cleo looked around at the very masculine room with its leather chairs, desk, bookshelves and tray of decanters. There was a small table with packs of cards in the window and a gun rack on the wall. A riding whip and several canes were stuck in a stand. It suited Quin. Its smell of leather and wood smoke and a faint hint of citrus made her think of his skin...
‘I suspect that keeping you here in bachelor apartments will be noticed soon enough. But one night will let you rest, I think. Ah, tea and crumpets. And cake, wonderful. Thank you, Godley.’ He sat back and studied Cleo.
She stared back. I must look a sight. I’m tired, and wearing my plainest clothes and I haven’t been able to wash in more than a basin of warm water for two days and I’m at my wits’ end.
‘Eat.’ Quin poured her tea when it became obvious that she was not going to do the ladylike thing and take control of the tea tray. He slathered butter on to two crumpets and passed her the plate. ‘Don’t let them get cold. You need food and a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, Cleo.’
The crumpets were delicious, hot and light and buttery. She drained her cup and Quin refilled it. Finally she found her voice. ‘Eating and bathing I am capable of. I doubt I could sleep.’
‘You expect me to send a note to the duke the moment your eyes are closed?’ Quin studied the cake plate as though it was of absorbing interest. When he lifted his gaze to her she was shocked at the sharp intent in his eyes. ‘I suppose I cannot blame you.’ He put down his cup and saucer. ‘Shall we discuss what is to be done now, then?’