Lord Love a Duke (21 page)

Juliet patted her hair, straightened her
bodice, arranged her skirts smoothly, assumed her most ladylike
pose, and awaited the arrival of the man she had doomed.

A more composed, albeit wrinkled and
dejected, Juliet sat primly on the edge of one seat near the cold
grate in the Duke's chambers. She had been returned to rights, or
as rightly as she could be returned, by Miranda before her friend
took her leave. The valet, Danvers, had reentered to retrieve
clothing for his master, and amazingly remained expressionless as
he pulled out the entire contents of the wardrobe thanks to
Juliet's dexterity with her needle in the execution of the
ill-fated prank. The servant calmly collected the voluminous stack
of cravats and stockings and exited the same way he had entered.
He serves his master well
, thought Juliet wryly. At least he
will be the star below stairs when he relates this juicy tale. She
sighed deeply and once again looked over the room she had learned
so well in study throughout the night. Like it or not, she would
likely get to know all the rooms at this estate, as well as the
rest of the Dorset properties, as she would evidently be its new
mistress. She could not stop the bubble of agitated laughter that
escaped her throat, wringing her hands at the slightly hysterical
quality she heard in it.
Steady girl
, she thought, this wild
ride has only begun.

A light knock preceded the Duke's entrance
and Juliet sat straighter in her seat. Her pulse pounded and for a
moment she felt both hot and cold and disturbingly lightheaded.
Good heavens, is this what a faint feels like?
she thought
haphazardly as she swayed slightly, her vision darkening.

“Here now, none of that if you please,”
instructed the Duke as he reached her side. “Close your eyes and
lean back.” Juliet heeded his words as she took slow breaths. “You
will not become missish now and leave me to face the reckoning
alone,” he teased in effort to calm her panic.

Her eyes snapped open and he was pleased to
see a small spark of life return to their gray depths.
She had
the most fascinating color to her eyes
, he thought. Both
brothers shared her hue but something was different between them.
Hers glittered and shone, reflecting her vivacity and personality.
This morning, however, they resembled stone.

Juliet took one more calming breath before
responding to his weak jest. “The least I can do, the very least,”
she stressed, “is stay conscious for the inquisition.” She favored
him with a wan smile that, unsurprisingly, did not reach her
eyes.

Jonas grinned widely down at her. “Yes, I
will definitely need you awake and coherent when your father and
brothers demand satisfaction.”

Juliet blanched, but she remained steady.
“Oh, Your Grace, I cannot begin to apologize sufficiently for my
actions. I can only stress that I shall not ruin your life in this
manner. You will not be saddled with me due to my foolishness and
folly. I, alone, will bear the brunt of this ridiculous night
and--”

Jonas dropped to his haunches, sitting on
his heels in front of her seat. “I am going to stop you before you
go any further and tell you that we will indeed marry. There will
be no discussion and no bargaining on this point. Regardless of the
motives or circumstances, you spent the night in my chamber and
were discovered by a sizable number of people, including my mother
and your parents. Add to that my state of undress and your state of
dishabille and the end result can only be matrimony.”

Juliet swallowed a wail and made to rise
from her chair. The Duke grabbed her wrists, preventing her escape.
“But, Your Grace, it was a prank. A stupid, childish folly. You
should not be so punished for my foolishness.”

His hand
s slowly
moved up and down her arms in a light caress of her skin. “What,
then, is the punishment of which you speak? I am to wed a
beautiful, intelligent lady who makes me laugh as well as gives
challenge to my ideas. Truly, I see no punishment.” He paused as
his gaze bore into hers. “Unless, of course, you continue to call
me 'Your Grace,'” he added.

Juliet made a sound in her throat that was
half sob and half laugh. How could he not be furious over this
situation? “But you are being forced to marry! You are being
deprived of your choice in the matter of your bride,” she began but
again he stopped her, this time with a touch of his fingers to her
lips.

“I am a Duke of six and twenty. I have need
of a wife, of which my mother has reminded me for some time now. It
simply seems I shall acquire one sooner rather than later. As for
the choice, I cannot say I am displeased. It may not have been what
either of us had set out to do, but I daresay our union will not be
unpleasant.” He paused to wrap both her hands in his. “Confess. You
could do much worse than the Duke of Dorset,” he added with a
crooked grin.

She finally laughed aloud at this, and the
release of pent-up emotion felt surprisingly good. “You have me
there, Your Grace. I am nearly convinced, based on your kind
reaction and the lack of my blood shed at your hands, that I could
in fact do no better. But I cannot--”

He smiled broadly, both dimples flashing and
white teeth appearing as he interrupted her sure denial. “Will you
give me a week to convince you I am in earnest? Let me court you as
should be done. Let us get to know each other and see if we do not
suit.”

Juliet felt herself giving in to the desire
for resolution of this entire situation. The fairy tale aspects of
his proposal were alarmingly persuasive, and she realized abruptly
that she wanted it to be true. She was not dismayed at the thought
of being pursued and courted by the Duke. Most frightening of all,
she began to hope beyond all hope that he was in earnest. She
stared deeply into his cerulean gaze and saw sincerity and
expectation on his part as well. She nodded her head and he
immediately moved to action.

“There are only two more things that need be
accomplished then.” He shifted his position on the floor to one
knee and gathered her hands to his chest, dragging her closer to
himself.

“Lady Juliet, would you do me the great
honor of consenting to be my wife, consenting to share my life and
all it entails, consenting to be my Duchess . . . in one week?”

Juliet was undone. The Duke had been
gracious, kind, understanding, and forgiving. He had not railed nor
demeaned her and her idiotic actions. He seemed, in fact, to be
determined to move forward without a backward glance. She had
already grown to enjoy his company and conversation, to appreciate
his wit, and admire his strength. For a husband, she could
certainly do much, much worse, she thought.

“If you are sure, Your Grace, then I consent
to the consideration of this week,” returned Juliet, with a slight
upturn to her lips and a more serene set to her countenance.

Jonas' own smile increased and Juliet
decided he actually looked pleased by this turn of events. Before
she could contemplate this further he stood and pulled her to her
feet to face him. “I suggest we tell no one else of this trial
week, but instead present ourselves a united front when we soon
broach our families.” Juliet nodded her acceptance again, but
before she could utter any further response Jonas spoke again.
“Now, for the second thing that must needs be accomplished. I mean
to warn you that I will not hear another 'Your Grace' from you. As
my betrothed, and eventually my wife, no more titles out of you, if
you please, or there shall be consequences.”

Juliet released another genuine laugh as she
looked up into his eyes. “I beg your pardon. I shall endeavor to
obey,” she added with a deep curtsey.

Jonas barked out a laugh of his own. “And
you assumed a marriage between us not to be borne,” he chided.
“Observe how you already pledge to obey.” He winked and turned,
placing her hand through his crooked arm. “Now, shake out your
skirts and prepare to be cool and calm in the face of battle.
Consider it practice for your role as Duchess. We are now off to
face our families.”

Juliet took a deep breath and unconsciously
smoothed her skirt with her free hand –
the very wrinkled
skirt
that was previously attached to the Duke's bedclothes.
She blew out a heavy sigh and cleared her mind for the coming
tirades. “Yes, Your Grace,” she responded absently, taking a few
steps before jerking to a halt as she realized her mistake. Her
eyes flew to the Duke's and she saw them twinkle mischievously.
Before she could prevaricate, he grabbed her hand, kissing the tips
of her fingers individually as he watched the expressions flit
across her face.

“This is your last warning – no more
titles,” he reminded her as he replaced her hand then exited the
chamber. If a kiss was to be the consequences he so warned her
about, however, Juliet could not decide if she would truly obey as
she had vowed.

Juliet slowly preceded
Jonas into her parents' sitting room with an unsettled stomach and
turbid mind. She was heartily dismayed to see all the principle
players needed to complete this dramatic comedy: her parents and
brothers, Miranda, the Duchess of Dorset, and her Aunt Catherine.
Had they all lain in wait for this moment? She could see the
obvious curiosity on all their faces, but she could not fail to
notice that her mother and his also displayed a mixture of
satisfaction and quite possibly delight. The expressions on Miranda
and her aunt's visages were altogether different and perplexing as
they seemed entirely too satisfied.
Save nothing else, it
will be a most impressive wedding announcement to read in
The Times
, she thought
blackly.

Despite his assurances, Juliet could not but
help to feel, once again, that the Duke was being forced to do
something against his will – something he had no intention of
committing himself to, and something caused by her own
ill-conceived actions. He had made no overtures to anyone of a
matrimonial nature, at least that she had seen or heard, and
Miranda had certainly never mentioned he was feeling in want of a
wife. On reflection, she could note that he had spent much of his
time in her company since arriving in Sussex, and mixed more with
her and his own family rather than the other guests. Still, to be
compelled to offer his protection to one behaving as a child not
out of the schoolroom continued to distress her. She released a
deep sigh that caused the Duke's hand to squeeze over her own where
it rested on his arm.

“Here we go,” he whispered for her ears only
before addressing the eager crowd. “Good morning, my lords and
ladies. What brings you all together so early?” He questioned
without a hint of amusement. He expression was so bland that a
stunned silence reigned for several moments. Juliet could contain
herself no longer and let out a burst of nervous laughter before
choking her tense mirth back into silence. The Duke squeezed her
hand reassuringly again and smiled down to her.

“What in the blazes do you have to be
laughing about?” yelled her brother Charles, before turning his
wrath on his friend. “And you! Get your filthy hands off my sister,
you blackguard!” He moved to charge the Duke but was stopped by his
brother.

“
Charles, we are here to
observe, not participate, for the moment. This is a discussion of
marriage, after all. I believe the parents and the prospective
bride and groom have the floor. And you
will
watch your language,” he added, almost as an
afterthought. The calm manner and words of Maj. Quinn were
underscored by the piercing gaze he kept fixed on the Duke, and the
subtle way he rested his hand on the scabbard at his side.
Good grief
, thought Juliet,
since when did Marcus wear his sword on a daily basis?
She felt a hysterical laugh trying to surface
again and swallowed hard.

Jonas dropped Juliet's arm and walked into
the room, stopping several feet from the Marquis and Marchioness of
Lansdowne. Clasping his hands behind his back, he straightened to
his full height, looking every bit the Duke of Dorset. “My Lord and
Lady Lansdowne, I am sorry for the conditions under which this
meeting is taking place, however misconstrued and innocent they
actually are. I must confess myself, however, to be the most
blessed of men as I have the honor of seeking the hand of the most
beautiful, clever, and honest lady I have ever had the good fortune
to know. It is with all sincerity and respect that I ask your
permission for the hand of your daughter, the Lady Juliet.”

Silence met his brief speech save for the
sighs of the women in the room. Lady Lansdowne beamed her obvious
approval and reached over to take the hand of her friend, the
Duchess of Dorset, in a sign of solidarity. Juliet's father merely
grunted and scowled as he kept his own council for what seemed an
eternity but in truth barely constituted a minute. Juliet and
Miranda shifted noisily in the uncomfortable silence, but the Duke
stood his ground, stoic yet content.

“You say the conditions were innocent.
Explain them to me,” barked the Marquis. Small gasps were heard at
the lack of respect shown by Juliet's father, but the Duke remained
unaffected.

“Lady Juliet will no doubt explain it better
than I.” He turned to indicate she should join him near her parents
so she moved with deliberate steps, stopping slightly behind and to
the side of Jonas. She looked up at his face and was calmed by the
supportive smile she found there. Taking a deep breath and
smoothing her skirts nervously, she began the tale, starting with
the plan to excuse herself from the previous night's dinner and
ending with the arrival of the crowd just a scant hour ago. She
omitted the involvement of Miranda and the Countess, and any
mention of the two previous pranks. When finished, Juliet felt a
small measure of relief until her father once again spoke.