Darling Beast (Maiden Lane 7)

“My uncle never knew?” Apollo asked.

Trevillion shook his head. “I think not. When I left Greaves House he’d taken to his bed and a doctor had been sent for. They’re not sure he’ll recover.”

George swore foully, red-tinged spittle flecking his lips. He glared at Apollo. “You should never have been the heir—your line is tainted. Had Brightmore not intervened you would’ve hanged for sure instead of being sent to Bedlam. Everyone knows you’re insane—everyone! I should’ve killed you myself instead of sending Vance.”

“Now we have your confession,” Trevillion murmured gently. “And in the presence of two dukes.”

Trevillion bent to haul George to his feet, which put an end to his cursing. The captain looked quietly satisfied.

Wakefield nodded grimly. “Excellent.” He turned to Apollo. “I think we’ll be able to clear your name within days. Artemis will be very pleased—and I won’t have to worry anymore about her sneaking off with baskets of provisions for you.”

“So glad to put your mind at rest,” Apollo said drily. He looked at Lily. “Shall we go see how Indio and Daff are faring with my sister’s dogs?”

She nodded, and he took her hand, leading her from his garden.

IT WAS VERY late—well past midnight—before Lily retired to bed. There had been the reunion with Indio, made even more chaotic by the duke’s four dogs—two greyhounds, a silly spaniel, and an elderly white lapdog—all of whom Daffodil seemed to regard as very large play toys. There had been the rather nerve-racking introduction to Apollo’s sister, who, no matter how nice she seemed, was after all a duchess. There had been a positively decadent bath followed by a very good late-night supper of roast duck and baby carrots.

So it was understandable that Lily didn’t at first notice the very large man in her bed when she entered the room assigned to her.

When she did, she stopped dead and hissed, “You can’t be in here!”

The covers were pulled to his waist, but he appeared to be quite naked underneath.

“Why not?” Apollo asked, apparently having forgotten all the social niceties that someone must’ve taught him as a small child.

“Because this is your sister’s house.”

He cocked his head. “Actually it’s His Grace the Ass’s house, but I do see your meaning. You know she’s a floor above us?”

“Why do you even call him that?” she asked as she began removing her bodice. “He seems a perfectly nice man, if a bit stiff, and as I understand it, he actually rescued you from Bedlam.”

Apollo frowned ferociously. “He seduced my sister before they were married.”

She looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“And he’s an ass. But mostly it’s my sister.”

“So if Edwin chose to call you out over your very thorough debauchment of me…?”

“He’d be well within his rights,” he assured her. “In fact, he really ought to.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and honestly she rather thought he wasn’t.

“Gentlemen have very odd minds,” she commented as she slipped out of her skirt.

“We do,” he replied lazily. “For instance, I’d rather like you to become my wife.”

She was silent, frowning as she unlaced her stays.

After a moment he cleared his throat. “This is where many a gentleman might think that it’s ladies who have odd minds.”

“Richard—”

“Please don’t do me the insult of comparing me to that worm,” he said, quietly and seriously.

“I’m sorry,” she said at once, because she was. Apollo was nothing like Richard and she more than anyone else knew that. “But you must understand: even without his violence, I don’t think their marriage would’ve been a happy one.”

He rolled to his side and propped himself up on his arm. “You’re still comparing,” he said gently. “I don’t give a damn about bloodlines. I think today’s events more than prove that only madmen do, really.”