Page 24 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Chance nodded. “I do.”

Odette took a breath and put up her chin, a gesture Chance recognised now.

“Then I shall love it too,” she said firmly.

He laughed, touched and delighted by her, but there was no time for anything more as servants poured from the entrance and his father’s butler, Harris, came out to greet them.

“Lord Debdon,” he said with a bow, before turning his gaze to Odette.

Harris never usually showed the least expression, being far too well trained display anything as plebeian as an emotion, but his eyes grew wide as he recognised her. This was tantamount to a hysterical fit in most other people, and Chance felt his pulse accelerate.

“Where is my father?” he asked.

“Lord Blackdown is in the library, my lord, with Monsieur le Marquis de Layon.”

“Ah,” Chance said, gripping Odette’s hand a little tighter. “Two birds.”

“Mon Dieu,” Odette whispered, so quietly only he caught it, but he could sense her trembling beside him.

“Chin up, love,” he murmured, and guided her into the castle.

He waved Harris away, telling the butler not to worry, he could find his father’s study by himself and had no wish to be announced. He’d go in when he was good and ready. Perhaps they might wait for the next millennium.

“They are all staring at me,” she said, her anxiety obvious as he guided her past the ranks of footmen his father insisted on having and on through the maze of the castle to the earl’s study. “They must know what I did.”

“Ignore them,” Chance told her, though his own nerves were leaping now, something that was not the least bit helped as they approached his father’s study and the sound of raised voices reached them. That it was audible even through the massive oak door that was as old as the castle itself was not reassuring. “Well, this should be exciting.”

Odette looked up at him, her eyes very wide and frightened in the lamplight. Chance leaned down and kissed her, as much to give himself courage as her. He’d been in battle—he’d survived Waterloo, for the love of God!—so facing his father ought not be this terrifying. His heart did not seem able to distinguish between war and the coming confrontation, however, and was battering behind his ribs with fury. He would not let his wife down, though.

Holding her hand tightly, he gave two sharp raps on the door and walked in.