A Summons From the Duke (2 page)

“
We’ll try our best, Papa,” Emma promised.

Heathfield turned to Emma. “Do you still have your doll collection, my lady?”

Isabel smiled as her sister’s eyes brightened.

“
You
do
remember.”

“
Doll collection?” Father asked, his brow raised in question.

“
It’s nothing, Papa,” Emma said. “Lord Heathfield is simply jesting.”

“
Well, I should hope so. A grown man playing with dolls is unseemly.” Then he turned his attention to Isabel. “Isabel, I nearly forgot. Your mother is searching for you. Perhaps you know why.”

Isabel groaned inwardly. She had an idea, but she kept her silence. “I have no idea,” she lied.

Father gave her a look that said he knew she was lying. “Best you go and find her, Izzy.”

“
Of course, Papa.” Isabel excused herself from the unwanted company, though she would have far preferred to spend time in the parlor with them than be berated by her mother once again.

~*~

Damien Lockwell, third and best-looking son of the Earl of Totterdown, was on a mission. Well, two missions, to be more precise. The first was to get the hell out of the parlor where his friend, Heathfield, was sitting with Lady Emma Whitton, a meek little chit with whom Heath seemed to be rather smitten. The last thing Damien wanted was to be caught in the middle of a blossoming love affair.

His second mission thankfully coincided nicely with his first mission, which was to seek out Lady Emma Whitton’s twin sister, Isabel. Not only because she was an attractive little thing, despite her wretched choice in clothing, but because she seemed to be wound rather tightly. Damien happened to like it when a person was wound tightly as they provided him with a great deal of sport. He relished a good battle of wits, and he had a feeling Lady Isabel was of quite a witty persuasion.

When
Heathfield
had received that bizarre letter from Andrew and insisted Damien join him in
Yorkshire
for Christmas, he had been under the impression that their old friend’s little sisters were, well…
little
. What a pleasant surprise to discover upon his arrival that the ladies in question were fully grown and of a consensual age. If he'd known such a thing, he might have suggested this little jaunt even before that strange letter from Drew.

Damien stepped into the hallway and glanced left and right. There was no sign of her. Her father, the Marquess of Norland, had said her mother requested an audience with the chit mere moments ago, and now she’d vanished into thin air.

He turned back towards the parlor. Lady Emma and Heathfield sat far too close to one another—it made Damien a little nauseated.

No matter. He would instead explore the castle for a bit and hope that he crossed paths with Lady Isabel along the way. He turned to his left, taking the corridor toward what he assumed was the back of the castle. Truth be known, the place was monstrous, so it was anyone’s guess as to where he was headed.

He passed a good many closed doors on his journey, but as he neared the end of another long corridor, raised female voices caught his attention. He knew it was badly done of him to listen, but he couldn’t help himself.

“
Isabel, we will not have this discussion again. Is that understood?”

“
No, it’s not.”

Damien’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently, Lady Isabel was hiding a large pair of bullocks beneath her hideous frock.

A weary sigh escaped the room, and Damien assumed it was from the marchioness. “What, exactly, don’t you understand, Isabel?”

“
Everything. Nothing. I don’t understand why I am to act like someone I’m not in order to catch a husband who will surely discover my true nature once we’re married, and then we shall both be miserable for the rest of our lives.”

“
Isabel, I’m not asking you to change for the sake of catching a husband, I’m asking you to change
period.
No one likes a girl who is too smart or who is nearly useless at a party. You can’t play the pianoforte, your singing is appalling, and heaven help us should you take to the dance floor.”

Damien cringed at the harsh words Lady Norland imparted to her daughter. Isabel may have had a large set of bullocks, but he was certain even
she
was feeling the sting of her mother’s censure.

The silence that descended told him all he needed to know. If she opened her mouth, she would cry, and he had a feeling even Lady Isabel would rather hold her tongue than cry in front of another person.

“
Come now, darling,” Lady Norland finally said. “Chin up. You’ll be a proper lady yet. It’s just going to take a bit of work on your part. If only you would put down those silly books and apply yourself to more noble pursuits.”

Damien had never considered the ability to dance a minuet to be a
noble
pursuit. He shook his head.
Women
.

“
May I please be excused now?” Isabel’s tone was flat, her voice even and emotionless.

“
You will change into something more suitable before dinner. The Masons will be joining us, and I won’t have you looking like an ugly spinster.”

“
Yes, Mother.”

The sound of a wooden chair scraping across the floor sent Damien running down the hall and into one of the closed doors he’d passed earlier. He shut it quietly behind him and then turned to see where he’d ended up. Books lined the walls, end to end. He’d found the library. Excellent.

~ 2 ~

Isabel stepped into the corridor, doing her best to both hold her tongue and hold back her tears. Blast her mother! She knew she shouldn’t think such horrible things of the woman who’d given her life, but blast it, she was infuriating! Mother thought only of ridiculous and petty things. Who bloody cared if she had a nice singing voice or could poke a needle through a piece of cloth until it looked like a flower?

A sudden movement from further down the hall stemmed her internal tirade. The door to the library closed slowly and then latched shut, as if someone were trying to avoid being seen. And they’d chosen her most precious hideaway. This day was getting worse by the second.

First that blasted Heathfield had shown up with some stranger, who was most certainly a ne’er-do-well, if his unkempt hair and lackadaisical demeanor were any indication. And then Mother had reminded her, once again, that she was to perform like a lady this week while their guests were in residence. There were, after all, non-relations in attendance.
Male
non-relations, both of whom would make fine matches for she and Emma.

Well, Emma already appeared to have Heathfield in the palm of her hand. No doubt Mother would use that against Isabel somehow.

She started towards the library, intent on somehow evicting its current occupant. She threw open the door and found just the person she expected to see. That blasted ne’er-do-well was in her library. Ha! It was probably the first time he’d seen the inside of one at all.

“
You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?” she blurted out. No need to mince words or beat about the proverbial bush.

“
Good afternoon to you too,” he returned with an infuriating smile. “Quite a collection the duke has here.”

“
Yes, I’m sure it’s quite impressive to someone like you. They’re books, in case you were wondering.”

“
Ah! So that’s what they are!” He pulled one off the shelf and flipped through it in mock amazement. “And here I’d thought to wipe my ass with them.”

Isabel nearly choked on her tongue, which she’d practically swallowed in her shock.

The scoundrel started towards her and stopped a scant two feet away. “You seem a bit stunned,” he said. “That’s called being speechless…In case you were wondering.”

Isabel had the distinct urge to slap the arrogant smile right off his face. “Were you or were you not eavesdropping, Mr. Lockwell, is it?”

“
Indeed it is!” he said. “Grand memory you have. Now, on the subject of eavesdropping…would you mind giving me your definition of the word?”

Oh, good God. “Certainly. Eavesdropping: to listen secretly to a private conversation.”

“
Ah, very good that I had you explain. For a moment I wondered if you might be referring to the droppings from the eaves.” He laughed at his own cleverness. “I assure you I was not dropping things from the eaves of your lovely home.”

Isabel’s nostrils flared. “I did not assume you were. But now that it’s been clarified, would you like to give me an answer?”

Lockwell leaned against the nearby wall and crossed one foot over the other. “No, actually. I would not like to give you an answer.”

“
Then I would like for you to leave my library.”

Lockwell stood straight and his hand flew to his heart. “Goodness, such hostility to your guest. Truly, I only wish to find a book to occupy my time here at fair Danby Castle. Won’t you grant me just a moment or two to find one? Or perhaps…
you
could recommend something?”

Damn and blast, the man seemed to know her weakness. Of course she wanted to recommend a book to him. Something to prove what a learned woman she was. Something that would register true shock in his blasted blue eyes to learn that a woman had actually read and enjoyed it.

She gave him a tight smile. “Fine. I should be more than happy to recommend a book for you to read, and I think I know just the one.” Isabel walked to the far side of the library where the ladder was leaning against the shelves. She moved it along its track until it was just beside the tome she needed to retrieve from higher up. “This is one of my favorites. It’s rather thick, though, so I’m not sure you’ll be able to finish it before you leave…which I’m certain will be soon,” she added for good measure.

“
Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll stay longer than I’d planned in order to finish it.”

Isabel resisted the urge to grab a book from the shelf and throw it at his head. “Ah, here it is!” she said, pulling the massive tome out from its resting place. “
A Manifesto on Prehistoric Mammals and their Amphibious Counterparts
.”

She smiled satisfactorily when Lockwell’s brows shot up in surprise.

“
You actually enjoyed that book?” he asked.

“
Absolutely!” she cried. “A brilliant commentary on how our ancestors lived among the animals of the time. But I think my favorite part was the section on the prehistoric horny toad. Fascinating how the male was submissive to the females of the species.”

“
Until mating season, of course.”

Isabel blinked down at Lockwell.

“
Oh, yes, you
must
remember
that
part!” he continued. “While the female ruled the roost, so to speak, the rest of the year, she actually sought domination when the time came to…you know…”

Isabel was certain her face was red as a ripe tomato. Good heavens, he had read the blasted book already.

“
Do you possibly have anything else for me to read? Not that I didn’t enjoy the
Manifesto
, but I
have
already read it. Something I haven’t read would be most delightful.”

~*~

Damien would have paid a handsome sum to have a painter there to capture the look on Lady Isabel’s face just then. Certainly she hadn’t expected for someone like
him
to have read such a tome, but he had. Long ago, when he’d thought he might become a veterinary surgeon. Of course, after he’d witnessed his first sheep birth at the age of seventeen, he had changed his mind. There was nothing wrong with falling back on the wealth of one’s father, anyhow.

“
Uh, yes…of course,” she stammered, clearly flustered by the revelation. “I’m sure I can find something, erm, let me just…” She reached for the next set of shelves, thinking to pull herself along the track while still on the ladder. But her hands faltered and before Damien could blink an eyelash, Lady Isabel teetered and tilted, scrambling and failing to catch herself.

Damien rushed beneath the ladder just in time to catch her in his arms, preventing what could have been a detrimental fall.

“
It’s all right,” he said, his voice soft and cajoling. “I have you.”

Lady Isabel, clearly flustered and shaken by the incident, took a deep breath and placed a shaking hand over her heart. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes closed. The word was not easily released from her tongue, though whether that had to do with her overset nerves or her feelings towards him, he could not tell.

“
You’re most welcome,” he said, meaning it. Now that she was in his arms, he had less of a desire to tease her and more of a desire to kiss her. Damn it.

“
You can put me down now. I think I’m all right.” Her voice was still a bit shaky, but her eyes were clear and her face determined.

“
Are you certain?” Damien couldn’t believe he was prolonging this moment, holding a proper lady in his arms. If someone were to walk in on them, he’d be shackled to her by the end of the week.