Sitting up gingerly, Drew held his throbbing head in his hands. The stench of whiskey permeating the library was no doubt ruining his priceless collection of rare books, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a bloody damn.
He had lost Roslyn. Given her up to his rival. Which explained why the agony in his heart pained him even more than the agony in his head.
What an utter imbecile he’d been, encouraging Haviland to go after her. Now that he was marginally sober, he could only lament his insane moment of magnanimity.
Had Haviland proposed to her by now? If so, had she accepted?
Drew clutched his head harder. He couldn’t bear to think of it. And yet he could think of nothing else.
What in hell’s name was he to do now? If Roslyn hadn’t accepted Haviland’s suit, Drew decided, he would go after her himself. He would make her wed him, even though she didn’t love him. And then he would spend the rest of his life trying to win her love.
Oh, God…she didn’t love him.
And she didn’t believe he could ever love her. He would have to show her that he did love her. Rather desperately in fact.
He wouldn’t let Haviland have her, even if she loved the bastard. He wasn’t ever going to give her up. He couldn’t. Not a damn thing in his life made sense without her.
Yet he might be too late…
With a muted groan, Drew pulled out his pocket watch and realized that the time was already past noon. He would have to call on Roslyn to learn his fate-but he had to bathe and change his attire first.
Rising, he dragged himself to the door and emerged carefully from the library, squinting against the brighter light when he reached the grand entrance hall.
His majordomo was standing at attention but appeared not to notice Drew’s disheveled appearance and bleary eyes. Advisable, since a wise servant knew better than to show disapproval of his master’s foibles.
“May I assist you, your grace?” the butler queried quite properly.
Drew winced at the sound, for it only made his head throb harder. “Yes, Foslett. You can have a bath drawn for me, and then order my curricle made ready in an hour. And have the library cleaned and fumigated at once.”
“Very good, your grace. Would you care to see your messages? Two came for you this morning, but I disliked disturbing you. One is from Lady Freemantle.”
Constance, was Drew’s first thought. His heart skipping a beat, he sliced through the seal with his forefinger and read the short note.
Her ladyship reported that Constance had rested fairly through the night and seemed a little better this morning. And the physician was more optimistic that his patient would eventually recover.
It was some consolation, Drew thought morosely, that Constance’s prognosis was improving, even though his own fate was so precarious.
“Thank you, Foslett. What is the second message?”
“It is from Miss Roslyn Loring, your grace,” the butler said, handing Drew a folded sheet of vellum.
His heart somersaulted…and then continued beating erratically as he ripped open the missive.
Dear Duke, I would be pleased if you would meet me this evening at eight o’clock at Fanny’s special private residence, Number Eleven Crawford Place. I have a proposition to put to you.
Your friend, Roslyn.
Warring emotions of hope and dread battled inside him. What the devil did she mean by inviting him to meet her at Fanny’s private house?
Drew glanced at the butler. “You may send a reply to Danvers Hall, confirming my acceptance.”
“The message did not come from the Hall, your grace, but from here in London. I believe the footman was employed by a Miss Irwin.”
Drew frowned in puzzlement, but he wasn’t going to question what Roslyn was doing in London. He would simply pray that she was giving him a second chance at loving her.
Crawford Place, Drew discovered from his coachman, was situated only a short distance north of Hyde Park and boasted a dozen row houses that appeared elegant and quietly expensive.
It seemed surprising that Fanny Irwin would own a sedate residence in this genteel neighborhood, given her status as one of London’s leading Cyprians. Yet it surprised Drew more when he arrived promptly at the appointed time and the front door was opened by a masked woman in a shimmering gold domino.