What a Devilish Duke Desires (9 page)

Because I fear he will wound me.
“I keep asking myself why he isn’t courting proper ladies who have large marriage portions.”

“Perhaps he wants love, not riches, in a wife,” Grandmama said.

Part of her wanted to believe that he was the gentleman of her dreams. She wanted to experience the exhilarating feelings again when he teased her and smiled at her. But if she allowed hope to blossom, she could find herself heartbroken. “I’m sure he was only being courteous today.”

“Keep this in mind. No gentleman spends that much time with a lady if he’s not interested,” Grandmama said. “If it were me, I wouldn’t let him get away.”

“Shhh,” Lucy said. “I hear footsteps on the pavement.” When she looked out the window, the light was just beginning to fade a bit.

When Granfield returned, he sat with his back to the horses. He took Bandit from Lucy and set him on the seat beside him. Then he knocked his cane on the roof. When the carriage rolled into motion, he stroked the puppy’s fur with his gloved hand, drawing Lucy’s attention. She couldn’t help noticing the muscles in his tight trousers. Her face grew warm. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want him to catch her ogling him.

“Are you comfortable, Mrs. Longmore?” he asked.

“Indeed I am,” Grandmama said. “You have a well-sprung carriage.”

He set his hat aside. “I enjoyed your excellent company today.”

“You’ve been very kind, sir,” Lucy said.

“It was a fine day,” he said. “One of the best I’ve had in quite some time. Thank you for meeting me at the park.”

“Do you live with your family?” Grandmama asked.

“No, ma’am. My three cousins, all girls, live with my mother.”

Lucy returned her attention to him but kept silent.

“You made no mention of your father,” Grandmama said.

“He died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. Why do you not live with your mother?” Grandmama said.

“Grandmama, we should not pry.”

“It’s not a deep, dark secret,” he said. “My mother is strong-willed, and I find we get along better when we are not in each other’s pockets.”

“Ah,” Grandmama said. “Then you must be equally as strong-willed as your mother.”

He laughed. “Only when warranted, I assure you.”

“Are your cousins very young?” Grandmama asked.

“No, they range in age from nineteen to twenty-one.”

“None have married?” Grandmama asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “My mother is determined to find them all suitable husbands, but there’s no rush.”

Lucy figured his mother was equally anxious to pair him with a genteel young lady with a generous marriage portion. Then, remembering Grandmama’s rebuke about cynicism, she vowed to work on her attitude. There was nothing to be gained by viewing life with a negative perspective.

“Your mother must care very much for them,” Grandmama said.

“Yes, she took my cousins in when their parents died in a carriage accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Grandmama said.

“It happened long ago,” he said. “My mother is fond of the girls and so am I.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Grandmama said. “Have you always lived in London?”

“Only part of the year—during the spring season.”

“Grandmama,” Lucy said. “We should not press him.”

“I take no offense,” he said.

“Do you have business in London?” Grandmama asked.

“Yes, I do,” he said.

“What sort of business is it?” Grandmama said.

Lucy’s cheeks grew hot. “Really, we should not inquire about his business.”

He laughed. “Mrs. Longmore, have you and your granddaughter always lived in London?”

“Oh no. We hail from Westbury in the county of Wiltshire.”

“Ah, you must have visited Stonehenge.”

“No, we have not had the privilege,” Lucy said. “To be honest, the only journey we have ever undertaken was the one that led us to London. This is our home now.”

“I particularly thank you for the history of the park. It was quite diverting,” Grandmama said. “From all appearances, you’re a prosperous gentleman.”

“Many consider me lucky.”

“You needn’t be modest,” Lucy said. “Doubtless you have worked hard for your success.”

There was no hint of amusement in his expression when he met her gaze. “Three months ago, my uncle passed, and I inherited the property. His untimely death was completely unexpected. He was like a father to me.”

Lucy’s heart sank. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Far too many people offer congratulations on the inheritance.”

He took a deep breath as if steeling himself.

Earlier, he’d said he had something to tell her. “Is something wrong?” Lucy said.

“No, but I inherited more than property,” he said. “I inherited my uncle’s ducal title.”

The fine hairs at the nape of Lucy’s neck stiffened. She covered her mouth.

His eyes registered disappointment.

Surely he’d known his words would stun them. She set her hand in her lap. “Why did you not tell us sooner?” The moment the words popped out, she realized her tone held an accusation, but he ought to have told them when he’d requested an introduction to her grandmother.

His expression turned cold. “I made it clear I had something to tell you after we toured the park.”

Lucy curled her nails into her palms. “You concealed an important fact about yourself.” How dare he make himself agreeable and then announce he held one of the highest titles in the land as if it were an afterthought. “You misled us.”

“I did not,” he said. “My title is Granfield. Everything I have said to you is the absolute truth.”

“Surely you knew your words would shock us,” she said. “You deliberately waited to reveal your identity until now.”

“I alerted you from the beginning. Now you know.”

Lucy was no stranger to disappointment, but something hot rushed up to her temples, making them ache. “You ought to have revealed it much sooner.”

“Be fair, Miss Longmore. Does it really matter that I waited to tell you after our walk in the park?”

“While I appreciate your attentiveness today, our circumstances are so different we might as well live on different sides of the Atlantic. You knew that when you met us at the park today. You made sure you had all the advantage, and then you gave insufficient reason for hiding an essential fact about yourself.”

Grandmama squeezed Lucy’s hand, a warning signal. “Your Grace, why did you wait?”

“I had no intention of concealing my identity. That is the reason I alerted your granddaughter that there was something I must tell her. Then we conversed, and I wanted to give you a tour of Green Park and its history. From the beginning, I intended to tell you and I have. That is the end of it.”

“Your Grace, you had a responsibility to introduce yourself using your title when we first met today,” Grandmama said. “I am willing to make a onetime exception, but you know that if you expect honesty from others, you must also be forthcoming.”

Lucy was not so forgiving. He’d seemed to be everything in a man she’d ever wanted, but she ought to have known he would prove to be too good to be true.

“Since you are sharing your honest feelings, I will share mine,” Lucy said. “I thought you were a gentleman in the truest sense of the word, but it seems you are a deceiver. You are the sort of man who trifles with women for your own amusement. Let me be clear. I am not amused.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This is your entire opinion of me based upon a short acquaintance?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes, it is.” She despised deception. Her father had lied multiple times about selling their valuables so that he could buy spirits. She’d loathed him for it, and she would have nothing to do with a deceiver.

It would not hurt nearly as much if he had not been so attentive to her grandmother and her. She’d known he was a flirt, but he apparently was like a chameleon, able to make himself amiable and charming for his own purposes.

While the carriage rocked along, Lucy turned her face to the window, because she did not want to look at him. There were long shadows from the buildings and numerous conveyances cluttering the streets. The ride seemed to take forever. The whole time, she wished that she’d never met him, because he’d made her believe that he was an honorable man. A man who might be the one. A man who might come to love, protect, and cherish her. But there was no chance of any sort of relationship, not when he was a duke.

She thought of that day in the park when she’d told him they couldn’t become acquaintances because of their class differences. He’d purposely withheld the information about his title that day as well. That only made her wonder how many women had fallen under his spell.

Now she felt like a fool. She’d known by the cut of his clothing that he was no ordinary businessman, but she’d fallen for his charms far too easily. Never again. He’d concealed important facts about himself and waited far too long to reveal he held one of the highest titles in the kingdom. She despised him for his duplicity, and she most certainly never wanted to see him again.

The carriage rolled to a halt at long last. Granfield handed his dog to the young groom. Then he aided Grandmama on the steps.

When he assisted Lucy, she tried to avoid direct eye contact with him, but he regarded her with narrowed eyes. He evidently wanted her to know that he was angry.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” she said curtly.

“I thought you were different,” he said under his breath, “but I was wrong.”

She huffed. “Do
not
pretend you do not know what stands between us. You live in an entirely different world than I do, but you chose to seek me out even when I protested that the class differences between us made any acquaintance impossible.”

“You’re no different than all the others who judge me only by my title.”

“What?” she said.

“You’re blinded by the title like everyone else, and you don’t even bother to look beneath the surface.”

He turned and strode back to his carriage. She took her grandmother’s arm and led her upstairs. When they reached the landing, Lucy heard the clopping of the horse’s hooves. She refused to look back, but his words troubled her long after he’d left.

L
ucy had not slept well last night after visiting the park. She’d kept thinking about the duke and everything that had transpired yesterday. All last night, she’d veered from feeling he’d duped them to wondering if she’d judged him too harshly. She’d awakened with a dull ache in her temples.

When she’d cleaned the last set at the Albany, she was relieved. She bought a mutton pie for dinner and hurried home. All she wanted was a cup of tea, a hot meal, and sleep. She climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. The familiar sound of Grandmama’s stick and the lifting of the latch made her sigh with relief. It had been a long day.

“There you are at last,” Grandmama said. “Mrs. Green is here. We’ve been waiting on pins and needles for you.”

“Why?”

“Come and see,” Mrs. Green said.

Lucy walked into the small room and blinked. There was a beautiful vase of red roses on the table. “Oh my goodness. They’re beautiful.”

“The petals are so soft,” Grandmama said. “A man delivered them earlier today. There is a letter as well.”

“All day I wished I knew how to read,” Mrs. Green said. “We had to wait for you to arrive home.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you had to wait,” Lucy said, “but I fear the letter and the roses were misdirected.”

“Do open the letter,” Grandmama said. “We are anxious to discover who sent it.”

Lucy set the pie on the table and broke the seal on the letter. She glanced down the page and saw the signature. “It is from Granfield,” she said.

“I knew it,” Grandmama said.

“Please read it to us,” Mrs. Green said.

She sighed. All day she’d thought of him with mixed emotions. All day she’d felt alternately guilty and then angry. Mostly she’d felt conflicted and unsure of herself. She feared that she’d judged him harshly because he was so far out of her reach.

“Lucy,” Grandmama said. “If you prefer not to share the letter, we will understand.”

“I would end up telling you about it anyway, and it would be cruel of me to make you both wait any longer. I’ll read aloud:

Lucy carefully folded the letter.

“Will you allow him to apologize?” Grandmama said.

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. She’d been so disappointed, and the wound was still fresh.

“Perhaps I should leave you both to your discussion,” Mrs. Green said.

“No, Mrs. Green. I think I could use more than one objective opinion,” Lucy said.

“Well, I don’t know that I’m much help,” Mrs. Green said. “I’m so impressed with the roses I’d probably advise you to forgive and forget everything. But I know it’s not that simple.”

“Lucy, you will need to make a decision tonight. His servant will call in the morning for your answer while you’re teaching dance to Mrs. Vernon’s girls,” Grandmama said.

“What should I do, Grandmama?” Lucy asked.

“Listen to your own heart, dearest.”

Lucy sighed. “If I had slept with a clear conscience last night, I could easily reject his apology, but my conscience was not clear at all.”

“I’d better go home and leave you to your discussion,” Mrs. Green said again. “I will call on you tomorrow, Mrs. Longmore.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Green,” Grandmama said.

Lucy walked with Mrs. Green to the door.

“Good luck, dear,” Mrs. Green said.

After she left, Lucy closed the door and secured the latch. “I’ll pump water for our tea.”

“Thank you, dear,” Grandmama said.

Lucy filled the kettle and set it on the hob. Then she put the teapot on the table along with the plates and cutlery. She sliced the pie, though she had little appetite.

“Tell me exactly what is on your mind,” Grandmama said.

“I keep remembering what he said last evening.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘I thought you were different, but I was wrong. You’re no different than all the others who judge me only by my title.’”

“Then it is solely because he is an aristocrat?” Grandmama said.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’ve never been so confused. He should have told us immediately, but truthfully, I would have been shocked regardless of when he told us. That’s the part I’m having trouble reconciling.”

“Lucy, he was amiable, considerate, and charming. Yes, he made a mistake, but he took responsibility. Surely you will allow him the relief of an apology. I truly believe his heart is in the right place.”

“Yet something still troubles me,” she said.

“What is it, dear?”

“That day at the park, I let myself believe that he might be the one and that tender feelings might develop. I knew I was spinning castles in the clouds. Then he revealed he was a duke, and I realized he was completely and utterly unobtainable for a girl like me.”

“You should not say that,” Grandmama said. “You are a remarkable young woman.”

“Grandmama, you know what I mean.”

Grandmama sighed. “What will your answer be?”

“Tell the servant I will receive him, if for no other reason than to discover why he misled us.”

Mrs. Norcliffe had spent the following week calling upon her friends and asking for recommendations for an accomplished dance master. Unfortunately, she’d heard numerous tales of drunkards, opium eaters, flirts, and in some cases thieves. She’d begun to think there wasn’t a decent dance master in all of London.

She called on young Mrs. Vernon, who had two sweet daughters. The girls were applying themselves to their embroidery.

“Thank you for receiving me,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I must say it is good to see your daughters working so industriously on their embroidery.”

“They are still learning,” Mrs. Vernon said. “Anne, Marie, you may be excused.”

“Yes, Mama,” they said in unison.

Mrs. Norcliffe noticed the elder girl took her sister’s hand. “It appears your girls are well behaved and on their way to being accomplished young ladies.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Vernon said. “May I offer you a dish of tea?”

“No thank you,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

“I was sorry to miss your at-home last week,” Mrs. Vernon said. “The girls had colds, so I stayed home with them.”

“It was probably just as well. On Lady Blenborough’s endorsement, I hired a dance master who frankly was inebriated and possibly under the effects of opium. He kept drinking from an apothecary bottle and was none too steady on his feet. Obviously, his instruction is out of the question. So I have been asking all of my friends for a recommendation.”

“Oh, dear God,” Mrs. Vernon said. “Was it Mr. Buckley?”

“Yes, it was. Do you know the man?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I hired him, not knowing his bad character. He did not bestir himself to lift a finger. His assistant did all of the instructing. Then he insisted upon speaking to me as if we were equals. He bragged about his connections to families I’ve never heard of before. The worst part came when he leaned closer to me. He reeked of spirits. I dismissed him immediately without pay.”

“What about the assistant?” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Is he capable?”

“Miss Longmore is very talented. She is wonderful with my girls. I must say she is patient and encourages them when they falter. I’m very pleased with her instruction.”

Mrs. Norcliffe arched her brows. “The dance instructor is a woman?”

“Yes, I know it is unusual, but I am impressed with her. It’s too bad you weren’t here earlier. You might have met her. At any rate, my girls adore her. It is also a relief that she is pleasant and speaks in an educated manner. I suspect her family has fallen on hard times, and she is teaching dance in order to help them.”

Mrs. Norcliffe set her hand over her heart. “Mrs. Vernon, do you suppose Miss Longmore would consent to instruct adults in my drawing room?”

“I imagine she would welcome the opportunity, if she is available.”

“Do you have a means of contacting her? I would very much like to have her instruct in my drawing room on Tuesday next.”

“I will send a servant round to her lodgings. I must warn you, I’ve already recommended her to several of my friends. I’m unsure about her availability, but I will inquire for you.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I am obliged.”

Mrs. Norcliffe’s spirits had risen substantially after calling on Mrs. Vernon. She was relieved that her nieces would have at least one practice session prior to the opening of Almack’s in a sennight. She would ask the other patronesses to help her spread the word to ensure her drawing room was a great squeeze during the practice session.

Mrs. Norcliffe was more than a little concerned about the gossip over that drunken dance master. She knew it must have been bandied about in every drawing room in London. It was crucial for her to succeed with the new dance master. Of course, there was the unusual fact that the dance master was a woman, but Mrs. Vernon was trustworthy and without guile—unlike many others.

Mrs. Norcliffe knew she carried enough influence to sway the opinions of other ladies of the ton. Over the years, she’d befriended all of the right ladies and gentlemen and made sure her drawing room was the most popular in all of London. If she sanctioned a female dance master, others would think it fashionable.

The next evening

Lucy was anxious that everything should be spotless and neat.

She set out the teapot along with the cups, saucers, and spoons on the square table in the room that served as a parlor and dining room. She’d filled a kettle with water to set on the hob. The fire would provide light and warmth when the sun set.

A floorboard squeaked as she walked to the window. The light was just beginning to fade. Then she turned to Grandmama. “Do you think he has changed his mind?”

“No, I do not,” Grandmama said. “You are entirely too restless. Come help me darn the stockings.”

“Grandmama, I will not darn stockings in his presence.”

“For pity’s sake,” Grandmama said. “You can put it in the sewing basket when he arrives.”

She sat on the sofa and immediately popped up. “I’ll add water to the roses.”

Grandmama released a long sigh. “You are suffering from vexation.”

“I can’t just sit and do nothing.” Lucy added a bit of water to the roses, smoothed the cover over the table, and set the vase in the center. Then she walked to the window again.

“The shadows are longer now,” Lucy said.

“You must be at the window again. Do you intend to advertise how eager you are for his presence?” Grandmama said.

“I’m only eager to have done with him,” she said. “Oh dear, his carriage arrived. My nerves are on edge.”

“He is the one obliged to apologize. You need only accept it.”

Footsteps clipped outside their lodgings. A knock sounded.

Lucy pinched her cheeks, moved the bolt, and opened the door.

He stood there with his hat in his hand.

“Please, come in,” Lucy said. Why was she a bundle of nerves? He was the one at fault.

He bowed. “Thank you for receiving me.”

Lucy took his hat and set it on the rosewood chest.

Grandmama rose. “Your Grace, will you join us for tea?”

“You are kind, but I do not wish to disturb you overly long.”

“Please, be seated,” Grandmama said.

He pulled out a chair for Grandmama and then for Lucy.

“I’ll put the kettle on the hob,” Lucy said.

His footsteps clipped on the wooden floor behind her. “The fire is burning a bit low,” he said. “May I offer my assistance?”

“Certainly,” she said, stepping back.

He took the poker and raked the coals. “It shouldn’t take long for the water to boil now.”

They returned to the table, and once again, he pulled out the chair for her.

When the kettle shrieked, Lucy retrieved it and poured water in the teapot. While they waited for the tea to steep, she said, “Why did you wait so long to tell us about your title?”

“I realized if I revealed my identity right away, you would probably be shocked. I was caught between confessing immediately or waiting until afterward. I chose afterward because I wanted you to know me for who I am rather than the ducal trappings.”

“You are uncomfortable with the title?” Grandmama said in a dubious tone.

“I am proud of all that the title stands for, both the present and the future. Havenwood means a great deal to me, perhaps even more so now that my uncle is gone. But since inheriting, I’ve been besieged by sycophants and greedy matchmaking mamas. I can’t walk into my club without a group of insincere toadeaters surrounding me. A year ago, none of these people acknowledged my existence.

“I never set out to deceive you, but I did a very poor job of enlightening you about my title. I made a grievous mistake. In hindsight, I ought to have told you immediately. If I had told you my feelings about the changes in my life as I’ve just described them, I could have avoided disgracing myself in your eyes. I beg your forgiveness, though I do not deserve it.”

Lucy sighed. “You are not alone in making a mistake. I asked myself if I would have judged you as harshly if you had been part of the gentry rather than a duke. I realized that I was too severe because you are an aristocrat and that isn’t fair to you. After much soul-searching, I realized I would have been shocked to learn you are a duke, regardless of when you had told us. You were very kind to my grandmother and me that day. I’m sorry for cutting up at you.”