Lord Love a Duke (31 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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“If this seems satisfactory to everyone, I
suggest we meet in one hour to depart,” the Countess declared. She
espied the grimaces on the face of the remaining LOO but a stern
glare and arched eyebrow brought them meekly to task. Rising from
her chair, the Countess swept out of the room before an opinion or
complaint could be uttered in her presence.

At the appointed time the front drive was a
noisy quagmire of carriages, horses, footmen, coachmen, and house
guests. Miranda waded into the scene, directing the groups of men
and women into their respective coaches as if commanding troops in
battle. As each carriage loaded it was dispatched to Town, leaving
the last two for the LOO and Juliet and Jonas. Miranda climbed in
behind her mother before turning in her seat to watch Lady
Ashford's command performance.

Juliet arranged her skirts, sitting
gracefully on the forward-facing seat, Jonas bounding in behind
her, taking the opposite seat with a wide grin, dimples blazing.
Juliet felt her own smile grow in response when a commotion began
in the drive.

“Slide over and make room, Charles, or you
will ride with the coachman,” warned his aunt, Lady Ashford.

“But you are to ride with Jonas and Juliet,”
he sputtered. “We are already four deep in here.”

“As you say, Charles.” Lady Ashford leaned
closer to the window. “You did not ride where assigned so you shall
suffer the consequences now. Lord Stafford, please assist my nephew
in his removal from the carriage. He has expressed a preference to
ride up top.” Juliet stuck her head out the door of her carriage in
time to see her brother verily fly out the door of his, stumbling
several times before righting his balance and preventing an
embarrassing fall. Rather than alighting the coachman's seat,
Bristol glared once before stomping angrily back into the manor,
ignoring the calls of his friends.

Jonas, realizing this was an opportunity not
to be wasted, hastily pulled Juliet back into the carriage and had
the attending footman lift the steps and shut the door. He rapped
on the roof to indicate his readiness to depart as Juliet fell
ungraciously into her seat.

“Whatever are you about? We cannot leave
without my aunt,” she sputtered.

“We are also betrothed. There is a certain
leeway that is allowable in our chaperonage.”

“Funny, that. We are actually under closer
scrutiny now that we are allied. I cannot believe my mother is not
forcing her presence on us, let alone my brother.”

Jonas chuckled at her consternation. “Your
mother is occupied with mine, likely considering how much of the
High Street must needs be purchased before the wedding. And you saw
Bristol removed from his carriage with barely a by-your-leave. He
stalked inside to sulk. I presume he no longer wishes to shop.”

“Charles wishing to shop?” she laughed
outright. “He would rather take a punch to the face. There is no
great mystery as to why he ran for the house. What remains a puzzle
is why my aunt is not accompanying us.”

“Your aunt was the agent of his removal and
is now riding in the carriage with Stafford, Hertford, and
Aylesford.” Jonas laughed again as another thought occurred to him.
“I think I begin to see from whence your talent for scheming
derived.”

“I am afraid I fail to follow.”

“Your aunt, my dear, was to be our
chaperone. She wasted no time ensuring our carriage was last to
load, and that she was unavailable to bear our company by securing
a seat with others.
Conveniently
, we are
now alone. No doubt she wished me sufficiently free to press my
suit.”

Juliet processed the Duke's statement
briefly before understanding brightened her countenance and her
mouth formed an “o” of comprehension. Her eyes narrowed with a
sudden fire. “And what would be the point of our current
arrangement?”

“Only this,” Jonas murmured before abruptly
switching sides of the carriage to share her seat. Taking advantage
of her surprise, he quickly pulled Juliet onto his lap and stifled
her gasp of astonishment with his lips. His kiss was hot and heavy
and she briefly thought of the propriety of pushing him away before
giving herself over to what was fast becoming her addiction –
kissing Jonas. He clasped the nape of her neck with one hand while
the other held fast to her hip, burning an imprint through her
gown.

“You have the softest lips. I could do this
all day,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across her mouth
before his lips settled once again in a blistering kiss. Juliet
felt like she was drowning in a sea of sensations – the wonderful
pressure and movement of his mouth – when she felt his thumb pull
lightly on her chin. Her lips parted and he swept his tongue
inside, stealing her very soul as she breathed in heavily.

Juliet found herself
realizing why mothers took such care to protect their daughters
from the company of men before marriage. It was terribly easy to
want to kiss the man you love every time the opportunity presented
itself. She abruptly tore her mouth from his.
The man you
love!
she thought dazedly. Her gaze searched
his face as her memories chased themselves in her mind.
He wants to marry me. He wants to make me fall in love with him.
He supports me with our families. He chose me.

Jonas watched the myriad emotions flow
across Juliet's lovely face, from surprise to wonderment to
something he could not quite identify. His gaze dropped to her
kiss-swollen mouth and he groaned as her teeth worried her bottom
lip. He could wait no longer to confess his feelings.

“Juliet, I--“

“Jonas, I--“

“What the blazes do you two think you're
doing?” roared Bristol, from the window of the carriage. “Get the
hell off his lap, Juliet!”

The shock of her brother's sudden appearance
caused Jonas' hold to loosen as Juliet jumped in surprise,
resulting in her immediate sprawl onto the floor of the carriage.
She landed hard on one hip with her skirts sliding dangerously high
on up her thighs. Jonas was fixated on her legs and failed to hear
Bristol's yells to stop the carriage. Fearing something was
seriously wrong, the coachman pulled hard on the team's reins,
slowing the carriage abruptly and sending a distracted Jonas
toppling onto Juliet. Bristol tore open the door to find the couple
tangled on the floor.

“Get off her, you blackguard!” Bristol
shouted as he pulled the Duke out by the waist of his breeches and
tossed him to the dirt. He turned back to the coach to assess his
sister's state but met her fist instead as she connected with his
left cheek. He reeled back out of the door, landing next to the
Duke.

“Charles, you are a fool!” she fumed from
the doorway as the footman scrambled from his perch to lower the
steps. Juliet descended gracefully, shaking her right hand in
discomfort before smoothing out her wrinkled skirt and tucking
loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. “What is the matter with
you?”

Bristol rubbed his reddened cheek and winced
at the tenderness already present. His sister could plant a fair
facer. “You were all alone with him, Jules, and he was all over
you. I--”


Yes, Charles, we were
alone, but he was not 'all over me.' In fact, it was
I
who was all over
him
, if you will recall, until you
attempted to crash our carriage. We're lucky to have stayed
aright.”

“But he had you in his lap, kissing you,”
Bristol sputtered.


Yes,
I
was sitting in his lap and
I
was kissing him, you nodcock. We are to marry in
a few days. Think you we should smile politely and occasionally
brush hands?” Juliet questioned sardonically, although her cheeks
blushed prettily.

Bristol looked at the Duke before returning
his stare to his sister. “I don't want to think about what you two
do, but I know you shouldn’t be alone and you shouldn't be kissing
in the carriage. I do know that much.”

Juliet walked over and
kicked Bristol in the shin with her leather half boot. “Well let me
tell you what
I
know, dear brother.
I know who
you
were kissing and
holding at Lady Coventry's soiree two weeks ago, and you were
certainly unchaperoned at the time. I do not believe I have heard
an announcement of your nuptials to the lovely widow –“

“Now hold on, Juliet,” Charles interrupted.
“That's not the same thing and you know it.”


You're quite right. It is
not the same thing. I will be married within the week, to the man I
was kissing. Too bad your paramour does not have the same
assurance, your assignation the same credence. Now I suggest we
three take this inside the carriage instead of airing such talk for
all the world to overhear. Or better yet, Charles, you may mount up
and take your random fit of morality back to the manor. We are
expected in Pevensey for shopping. If you come along I shall make
sure Mama knows of your keen interest in helping with the wedding.”
Juliet turned on her heel and regally walked back to the coach,
seating herself with the aid of the footman.

Jonas and Charles stood up, brushing dirt
and leaves from their coats and breeches. Charles nudged the Duke
with a grin. Jonas smiled in return before shoving the Earl back to
the ground.

“That's for tossing me out of my own
carriage,” Jonas explained, brushing a line of dirt off his
sleeve.

“You're lucky I didn't draw your cork for
touching my sister before the vows,” Bristol scorned. “But your
punishment will come after the vows. You've caught yourself quite a
virago. She's a right spitfire, that one.”

Jonas looked over at the carriage and his
features softened in admiration. “She's actually quite magnificent,
my friend,” he tossed over his shoulder as he boarded the coach in
one step. Charles heard the rap on the roof and the carriage pulled
away.

“Good Lord, it's love and lust with those
two. I really think I may be sick.” The Earl of Bristol picked
himself up from the dirt, dusted off his clothes, and remounted his
horse, turning back toward Edgecliff.

Chapter Forty-Seven
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with
traps.
William Shakespeare, Much Ado About
Nothing, Act 3, Scene 1

“And still the family has no true betrothal
announcement!” exclaimed Miranda from her perch on the side of Lady
Ashford's bed. She looked upon the reflection in the mirror as the
Countess and her maid prepared for retiring. “I noticed their
mutually flushed appearance when we stopped on High Street, which
was even worse when we arrived back at Edgecliff after our trip.
They seemed completely lost in each other this afternoon. They took
no notice of me standing only a few steps away in the entrance
hall,” she fumed.

Juliet's aunt smiled but made no comment,
waving off the officious hands of her maid and dismissing her for
the night. When the door had clicked shut the Countess began.
“Although I trust Agnes implicitly, I know that she would make free
any information downstairs. The servants here are close to the
family and would think it no harm to pass on any information
gleaned from us concerning the Duke and my niece,” she lightly
admonished Miranda. “However, now that we are alone, I must agree;
I thought something would be forthcoming after the day's shopping
trip. They were alone for the entire ride to Town, and they arrived
much later than we. I had hoped Juliet would seek out the family
tonight.”

“Surely we must do something! The deadline
is nearly at hand. You know as well as I that Juliet is stubborn
enough to want to wait until the last possible hour to make formal
her decision, but there is so much to plan and do yet for the
ceremony.”

“Hush, child, and let me think,” chided Lady
Ashford. “We need a plan and I need quiet to formulate it.” The
Countess began to pace back and forth across the plush Aubusson
carpet. Miranda moved to sit at the window seat but jumped up with
a shout as soon as her bottom hit the cushion. Her hand had landed
on Aunt Catherine's embroidery hoop, the needle pricking her thumb.
She immediately stuck the injured digit in her mouth as the
Countess hurried over to inspect the hurt. A sudden sentiment
struck her and she squeezed Miranda's sore hand, eliciting a small
yelp from the girl.

“So sorry, but I just had an idea! As soon
as you hurt your finger I rushed over to see what happened. I was
concerned because I care for you. Now think – when Juliet fled the
house after her confrontation with Melville, Jonas rushed after
her. He was concerned for her and I'm convinced he came back in
love with the gel, if he wasn't already.” She paused for emphasis.
“What do you suppose would happen if we arrange the need for Juliet
to rush after Jonas and care for him?”

“I cannot conceive how we can hurt Jonas
just to provoke Juliet to her true feelings!”


Oh, Miranda, I love you
dearly, but you are just a shade too dramatic sometimes.” Lady
Ashford grabbed Miranda's uninjured hand. “Think of this! I had
planned to send those two after berries for me. What if someone
should threaten them with harm, allowing them to turn to each other
for protection, revealing their overwhelming care for each
other?”


And you think
me
over-dramatic? What kind of harm can we
possibly threaten on a berry picking task? Shall I summon the
beekeeper to knock over a hive? Or perhaps we could locate Melville
to attack Jonas rather than Juliet this time.” Miranda laughed at
her own jest before plopping down on the window seat again, this
time avoiding the sewing needles.

Lady Ashford twirled more quickly than her
years should have allowed, causing Miranda to jump in surprise.
“Brilliant, my dear! As no sign of that worthless Viscount has
surfaced I shall casually mention that I think it safe for them to
pick berries for me, even though I will remind them Melville may
still be lurking nearby. Of course they will think nothing of it,
and go on my errand. You shall be behind the treeline and will fire
a gun in the air, startling them. That will cause them to fear for
their lives, remembering my warnings about Melville, and force them
to acknowledge their feelings.”

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