Lord Love a Duke (19 page)

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Authors: Renee Reynolds

Tags: #comedy, #historical fiction, #romantic comedy, #england, #historical romance, #london, #regency, #peerage, #english romance

BOOK: Lord Love a Duke
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Since becoming better acquainted with the
Duke this past week, Juliet felt more than just guilt for rifling
through his belongings. She felt like she was somehow betraying
their new-found friendship, that she was trespassing not just in
his private chamber but on his trust. She looked around the room
again and sighed.
I am putting way too much emphasis on a
harmless prank
, she thought. She stood and looked over the
collection of garments hanging from the top of the clothes press.
She ran her fingers down the sleeves of several of his tailcoats
and paused to examine the stitching and fine embroidery of his
waistcoats. She knew he had shirts and breeches as well but decided
she would not potentially ruin any of his outer garments by
stitching them in any manner. Juliet smothered a yawn as fatigue
from the busy day and loss of nervous adrenaline washed over her,
spurring her to remember the task at hand.
Enough is enough!
she thought as she removed her wandering fingers and shut the
wardrobe doors firmly.

Feeling bold, she quietly walked across the
Aubusson carpet to the dressing table on the opposite side of the
room. She was amazed that a man had as many geegaws and elixirs as
any woman she knew. Shaving soap and lotion she recognized, but she
picked up the small crystal decanter of amber liquid out of
curiosity. Removing the stopper from the top she immediately
smelled the scent that was the Duke – a mixture of earth and woods
and outdoors that evoked Jonas. She brought the bottle close to her
nose and inhaled deeply, making a memory of the scent.
It is the
Duke in a bottle
, she thought with a small laugh. Juliet
recapped the delicate carafe and returned it to its rightful place.
Turning again to view the room another idea formed. Her eyes
skittered across the bed and she laughed fully at her outlandish
musing.
I am going to sew his bedclothes
together
.

She walked to a chair near the fire and
searched her reticule. After locating more thread she dropped her
bag to the floor by the chair and crossed the room to the far side
of the large bed. Settling herself on the floor she peeked under
the counterpane to assess the number of linens, deciding not to mar
the surface of the decorative cover but instead sew the sheet
covering the mattress directly to the linen under the coverlet.
Juliet yawned again, this time not trying to prevent it, resolving
instead to quickly finish this last inspiration of the prank and
remove to her own chamber. The subtle warmth of the fire combined
with the soft plushness of the carpet to make her feel even
sleepier, but she was committed to this final act.

Several minutes later, she was unsure of
exactly how many, Juliet became aware of a noise near the bedroom.
She paused in effort to detect the exact location when the door
near the head of the bed burst open and the Duke's valet, Danvers,
entered the room. She immediately ducked below the side of the
mattress and endeavored to be as still and quiet as possible. She
could hear the valet moving about the room in obvious preparation
for the Duke's retirement as a cold feeling of dread rushed over
her, chasing away the pleasant warmth she had been working with
earlier. Without raising her lowered head Juliet heard Danvers
stoke the fire and complete and total fear rushed through her
veins: the Duke was coming to his room! She raised her head enough
to glance around her immediate location in search of a suitable
hiding place but found nothing save the drapes. The window! Juliet
peeked over the mattress to determine the location of the now-quiet
valet. Finding herself alone in the room again, but hearing his
unmistakable noises in the adjacent dressing room, she gathered her
needle and extra spool of thread to move to the window hiding
place. She rose quickly only to find her clothing rooted to the
bed. Frantically pulling at the silk of her skirts she discovered
the problem. In her fatigue and haste she had effectively sewn
herself to the Duke's mattress cover. As she had moved down the
length of the bed each stitch had also taken up a measure of her
garments, both layers of her skirt and petticoat, until she was
quite thoroughly attached.

Juliet's stomach plummeted at the same time
a bubble of hysteria tried to force its way up her throat. She
tugged desperately at the stitches but heard the unmistakable
rumbling of the Duke's voice in the next room. Smothering a groan
yet wanting to scream, Juliet moved as much of herself as possible
underneath the bed, gently pulling the coverlet to hang lower on
her side in effort to give her more disguise as Jonas and his valet
entered the room. Thank heavens Danvers had already turned back the
bed before she entered for she had no idea how she could have moved
her body in tandem as the covers were lowered with any success.
Certain the men could hear the pounding of her heart and the labor
of her rapid breathing, she closed her eyes and silently willed
herself to calm down.

When the roaring of the blood in her ears
settled, Juliet began to make out snippets of the conversation
between Jonas and his trusted helper. They discussed the high
points of the day and evening with Juliet hearing her name
mentioned several times, although the context was beyond her
understanding. She began to take stock of her situation, reasoning
she could attempt another escape once the Duke fell asleep. She
offered up a quick prayer that he would not sit in front of the
fire, as the tell-tale lump of silk and coverlet on the far side of
the bed would be hard to miss. She also prayed he would sleep
quickly and soundly, allowing her to take her scissors to the
stitches then flee his room.

Her scissors! Blast and damn but her
scissors were in her reticule, which she could clearly see sitting
lopsided on the floor by the chair. She swore fluently and severely
with some length in her mind as she scrambled to make another
escape plan. Her eyes darted out the three sides she could see from
under the bed when suddenly two large, bare feet came into view.
Some clothing briefly hit the floor before disappearing again,
followed by the ropes above Juliet's head groaning as they accepted
and adjusted to the weight of the Duke's obvious entrance into his
bed.

Juliet swallowed and
wordlessly bemoaned her suddenly dry throat. She saw the room
darken as she heard candles being extinguished and good nights
exchanged. She was trapped. Wide awake, all previous weariness and
complacency fled in the face of utter ruin, Juliet felt the
flutterings of what she assumed was panic. Cursing herself for not
leaving when she could have rather than attempting one last folly,
she rested her head on the carpet under the bed.
Nothing
like being hoist with one's own petard
, she
thought waspishly. Juliet heard the muted chimes of the clock from
the family chamber hall mark the time as midnight. She mentally
castigated herself again for her foolishness, resigning herself for
a long night of the same.

Chapter Thirty-One
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like
the sun; it shines everywhere.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act 3,
Scene 1

Jonas searched the house thoroughly before
giving up and making for his chambers. He entered the sitting room
then walked into his dressing room to greet his valet. Ever the
superior servant, Danvers handed him a glass of port and
immediately began to prepare his master for bed. Jonas caught his
reflection in the pier glass and chuckled again at the sight of his
friends with their colorful lips and teeth. He set his drink aside
with a sudden bout of healthy paranoia and allowed his valet's help
rather than shooing him away. He wondered if the Countess was truly
ill, assuming as he was that Juliet was still in her chamber. He
vaguely responded to the polite questions of his valet and was
quickly attired in his dressing gown. Jonas wandered into his
bedroom, intending to dismiss Danvers and brood by the fire when he
saw a bag on the floor by the nearest chair. Recognition flitted
across his face as his quick mind made the calculation that the
Countess was indeed well, the next folly had finally commenced, and
Juliet had been in his room. His mind flew through the
possibilities of what his next course of action should be.

“And did all the guests enjoy themselves
this evening, Your Grace?” asked Danvers as he placed a pitcher of
water and glass on the table next to the Duke's bed.

“I believe so,” Jonas answered absently as
his eyes scanned the room for signs of the prank. He walked to the
end of the bed, considering whether to check the now-curtained
window seat for wicked doings, when he noticed the bunched coverlet
on the right side of the bed. Stepping quietly he moved just far
enough to look over the far side to see the unmistakable skirts of
the fair Juliet peeking out from under the bed. He smiled and
returned to his valet. “Danvers, I believe I will retire. It has
been a long day after all. Will you see to the candles?” Jonas
asked as he moved to the foot of his bed.

Danvers nodded, snuffing out the five flames
in the candelabra then exiting through the dressing room. Jonas
surveyed his room almost gleefully, wondering what this dodge would
entail and whether Juliet had the time to execute it before his
entrance. Determining to wait her out, he made a production of
dropping his dressing gown then pouncing heavily on the bed as he
climbed up to sit back against the pillows. Cradling his head in
his raised arms, Jonas leaned back and settled in, sure his wait
would be brief. He heard the clock outside his chambers chime
twelve times and smiled again, plotting his own schemes.

Jonas turned over and blinked, realizing he
had fallen asleep. He looked toward the curtains and saw the light
of day beginning to glow through the break between the panels. He
rubbed his stubbled jaw with his hand, stunned that he had failed
to remain awake and missed his chance to catch Juliet. He slid to
the far side of his bed and peered over the side only to be stunned
again as he saw two stocking-clad feet and shapely ankles lay
against the gold of his plush carpet. He had two questions: why had
Juliet not fled while he slept and how could he make her realize
her coming ruin was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
And him.

Jonas smiled broadly as his mind raced over
the possibilities now present. Juliet had spent the entire night in
his room; he must convince her that compromise was a surety and
matrimony was the solution. He felt a brief flash of surprise that
the thought of marrying Juliet filled him with nothing save
contentment. He had found her company to be immensely superior to
other ladies as they had much in common, both in interests and
beliefs. She had expressed her disinclination toward marriage, but
he knew her to be practical enough to realize it a foregone
conclusion based on the evening's sleeping arrangement. His eyes
followed the pattern on the canopy above his bed as his mind began
to thrum with plans to persuade and assure her.

He glanced at the light shining between the
drawn curtains sometime later and realized the house would be
wakening soon so Juliet must be roused. He planned to move just
enough on the bed to make the ropes groan and hopefully wake his
soon-to-be-duchess when a huge pounding sounded on his bedroom
door. Before he could move Danvers emerged from the dressing room
and opened the door to the barest slit.

“Yes?” he asked with a tone honed to
imperious perfection.

“I know my daughter is in there so I suggest
you move and let me in as well,” began the gravelly voice that
clearly belonged to the Marquis of Lansdowne. Jonas saw Danvers
brace himself against the door and the presumed pushing of said
Marquis.

 

“My lord, you have the Duke's chambers.
Perhaps your daughter could be more easily located in the guest
wing,” replied Danvers, again his manner of speaking skirting
between respect and disdain.


I bloody well know what
chambers I have,” bellowed Lansdowne before catching himself and
lowering his voice to continue. “You tell
the
Duke
, whom I have known since his unfortunate
birth, that he will produce my daughter and then answer to me,” he
snarled with quiet menace.

Jonas sat up in bed in
preparation to address the irate father at his door when he heard a
rustling to his left. He looked to the far side of his bed to see
the sleepy, tousled face of Juliet rise above the coverlet.
Good Lord, she's even more beautiful like this
, he thought, making an effort to school his expression
before others could see the obvious desire and admiration clearly
across his countenance. His eyes greedily took in her half-tumbled
hair and he silently groaned that he still could not see how long
it truly was. One day soon he would, he thought, especially after
this morning's meeting with her father. He shook his head slightly
to bring his focus back to the present and off the thoughts of long
hair the color of mahogany spread out across his
pillows.

Juliet rubbed her face
sleepily and looked into the face of the Duke and gasped loudly.
His azure eyes were fire and ice, glowing as they looked on her
with surprise and some other emotion she could not determine. She
swept her gaze over his pillow-ruffled hair and beard-shadowed jaw
before dropping to see his broad chest. His broad,
bare
chest. Juliet's mouth opened and
formed an “o” before her gaze slid to the door to see her father's
livid face over the head of the Duke's valet. Her eyes widened in
alarm as her mouth now formed an “O.”

Chapter Thirty-Two
The course of true love never did run
smooth . . .
William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's
Dream, Act 1, Scene 1

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