The Black Duke's Prize (14 page)

Alison nudged her husband. "He's been chased by so many mothers and
their eligible daughters that he has informed me on several occasions that he
has sworn off marriage entirely," Lord Neville said with a forced smile.

"How do you feel about him, child?" her godmother asked.

"I think he is very provoking," Katherine answered truthfully.

Her godparents seemed unsatisfied with her answer, but she couldn't give
them a better one. She thought she was beginning to like him more than she was
comfortable admitting even to herself, but then he had been going out of his
way to be charming. She knew as well as anyone that at any time the Black Duke
could become bored with her, or find someone else to engage his rather jaded
attention.

That evening she and the Hamptons had been asked to dinner at the
Hillary mansion, and Reg had mentioned that Nicholas had been invited as well.
Katherine hoped he would attend, so that she could thank him for the roses, and
for the moment of memories they had brought.

The Marquis of Belning was a large, jolly man, as one would have to he
in a household with seven lively offspring. His wife, Jane, was equally
rotund, but the task of finding husbands for her three daughters had left her
with considerably less humor. When Katherine and her godparents arrived they
found Thomas there already, along with Louisa and Robert Alhey, a school chum of
Reg's younger brother Thad. Shortly afterward they all repaired to the
household's large dining room. As the first course was being served the butler
came in to announce His Grace, Nicholas Varon, the Duke of Sommesby.

At the pronouncement Nicholas strolled into the room. The emerald green
superfine jacket and waistcoat he wore made his eyes glint. The captain came
away from the table to shake his hand, and then the duke made his way over to
greet the marquis and gracefully bow to the marchioness.

"Oh, dear," Althaea muttered in a miserable voice from across
the table, and Katherine hid a smile with her napkin.

"You grace our table, er, Your Grace," the marquis rumbled.

That produced a round of laughter from the younger set. As Nicholas
turned to take his seat, his amused glance met Katherine's, and he inclined his
head. After a noisy, boisterous supper the women repaired to the drawing room
while the marquis called for port. Katherine found herself, as usual, sitting
with Louisa and Althaea.

"Oh, he never comes to these house parties," Althaea
complained. "Reg has invited him a hundred times."

"Don't fret, Thaea," Louisa said comfortingly, sending Kate an
amused look. "Perhaps his other plans were canceled. The Black Duke
wouldn't want to sit at home."

"But now Mama will expect me to converse with him," the
brown-eyed beauty said with a moan. "And I will say something foolish, and
he will give me a good setdown. I know he will."

At that moment Katherine felt someone's eyes on her, and turned to see
Nicholas come into the room, a glass of port in one hand. Seeing seven pairs of
female eyes on him, he flashed a smile. "I have always thought it a rather
foolish custom," he drawled, coming to seat himself next to Louisa,
"that men stay huddled together in the dining room after supper when just
next door, beautiful women wait to be entertained."

Katherine thought it a typically haughty thing for him to say, but it
seemed to greatly impress Althaea's younger sisters and her mama, while it
prompted another groan from the girl herself. Led by Thomas, the rest of the
men appeared a moment later, and they became a party of sixteen. After a few
minutes of increasingly noisy conversation the marchioness suggested in a loud
voice that Althaea play them something on the pianoforte.

The viscount moved to take the girl's vacated seat next to Katherine,
and she caught the quick look that passed between him and Nicholas as Althaea
began to play. "She plays well," Kate whispered to Thomas, and he
nodded.

"Do you play?" he returned.

She frowned. "What's the standard reply? Adequately?" In truth
she had no patience for it, and had escaped from her instructor to go riding
whenever she could get away with it.

Althaea played two pieces, but when her mother encouraged her to play a
third, her siblings suggested they play charades instead. Althaea gratefully
left the pianoforte. ''That was beautifully done, Miss Hillary," the Black
Duke said amiably as she took a seat.

Althaea blanched and nodded, mumbling something unintelligible. Kate had
noticed that the rest of the young people looked at the Duke of Sommesby with
something close to awe, and even his close friends, such as Thomas and Reg,
showed him a healthy respect. She looked over at Nicholas again. He was smiling
now, and looking devilishly handsome, not at all like the black-tempered rogue
of ill repute. Seeming to sense her gaze, he glanced over at her and grinned.

Althaea and Louisa took charge in organizing the game, and the young
people were instructed to divide into two teams. Katherine stood, and found her
elbow gripped by the viscount, who smiled down at her.

"Teammates?" he queried, and she nodded, returning his smile.
They had played before, and he was quite good.

Abruptly Nicholas was at her other side, though she hadn't been aware of
his approach. Though the Black Duke didn't touch her, his look at Thomas made
it clear that he had no intention of leaving her side, and Katherine began to
feel something like a wishbone.

"Excuse me, but a Mr. Gladstone is here to see His Grace," the
Hillarys' butler announced from the doorway.

"Damn," Nicholas muttered from beside her. "Gerald, may I
borrow your study for a moment?" he queried.

"Of course, Your Grace," the marquis returned.

"Best start without me," Nicholas said to the other players,
and with a quick grimace of apology strode out of the room, the butler in his
wake. Katherine looked after him, then joined the general cheering and talking
as a member of each team chose a word out of a bowl to begin the game.
Althaea's team won the first round, thanks mostly to her sister Eunice, and
then it was Louisa's turn. After the next set of clues the duke returned. He
looked somber, and nodded at Lord Neville as he took his seat.

"Is everything all right?" Katherine asked while Thad Hillary
rooted around on the floor, obviously imitating a pig, though his teammates
seemed willing to let him suffer for a few moments before they guessed the
word.

Nicholas nodded. "Yes." He reached out as though to take her
hand, then glanced about and straightened his jacket instead. "It will be―"

"Your turn, Nick," Thomas said, leaning forward and tipping
the bowl in Sommesby's direction.

Nicholas gave him an annoyed glance, then with a sigh pulled out one of
the pieces of paper. He grimaced, raising an eyebrow. "Can't I choose
again?" he asked, reaching for the bowl.

Reg rose and pulled it out of the way. "You get to act as foolish
as the rest of us," he said, grinning.

"If this is what being proper gets one, I prefer being a
scoundrel," Nicholas whispered to Kate, then stood as she chuckled.

What he had said surprised her. She had suspected as much, but it seemed
that he actually was making an effort to behave. The only question was, for
what reason; yet as she watched him give the sign for a person and then bend
over and cup his hands above his ears, she thought that perhaps she could
guess.

"A rabbit?" Louisa asked.

"It's a person," Cecilia Hillary corrected her.

He nodded, lifting two fingers, then resumed his posture in a slightly
more upright position.

"Two words," Thomas said, and the duke nodded again.
"Bunny rabbit." Across the room, Reg was chortling. With a put-upon
glance at Kate, Nicholas continued meandering around the furniture.
"Donkey?" she queried, trying not to laugh.

''Thank God," he muttered, and straightened. "No talking,"
Reg rebuked him.

"That's not a person," Eunice protested. ''That's one
word," Louisa crowed.

Nicholas paused for a moment, then wiped his hand across his forehead.

"Tired," Louisa said immediately.

"Wann?" Thomas tried, when that didn't get a response. The
duke's gesture was expansive, his eyes twinkling though his expression was
exasperated.

"Hot?" Robert Albey offered.

The duke nodded and folded his arms, obviously finished. While the
others called out various and hilarious combinations of the two words, Kate
looked at him. He clearly felt that he had given them all of the information
they needed, and, considering what she knew of him, the answer was one that was
likely so obvious they would all feel foolish for not getting it. "Well?"
he mouthed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Donkey hot," she murmured. "Donkey hot."

"Lord Vincent Westerhill, Third Earl of Malbury," Thomas said.

"What?" Nicholas and Katherine exclaimed in unison. "He's
fat and sweaty, and has about as much intelligence as a donkey," the
viscount explained, and Katherine chuckled.

"I'll let him know you said that," Nicholas commented.
"Time's nearly up," Thad Hillary exclaimed, eyeing the clock on the
mantel.

Abruptly it came to her, and she sat straight up, smiling gleefully.
"Don Quixote," she said triumphantly.

"Bravo," Nicholas murmured through the general cheering and
protests. "May I take a seat now?"

By the end of the evening Kate's cheeks felt stretched from laughing so
much. No one had any idea which team had actually won, and finally the Marquis
of Belning declared the match a draw. Katherine had never seen Nicholas so
relaxed and charming, and wondered that anyone could think to be afraid of him.

It was past midnight when she and the Hamptons finally collected their
outer garments to leave, and Nicholas followed them out to where the coaches
had been brought up. "May I call on you in the morning, Neville?" he
asked, handing Lady Alison and then Kate up into the coach. "I don't think
we should talk here."

"Of course," the baron answered, throwing a curious, uneasy
look at Kate.

The duke looked up into the dark coach at her. "Good night,
Katherine," he said softly, sounding warm and intimate enough to make her
blush.

"Good night, Nicholas," she replied, smiling.

Kate had her own caller in the morning. Emmie awoke her at nine to. say
that a Mr. Hodges was waiting for her in the morning room. "Oh,
dear," she murmured, and dressed quickly to meet him. This was sorely what
she had been waiting for, and she was both anxious and reluctant to hear the
news he carried.

"Mr. Hodges," she said, entering the room and closing the
door.

"Miss Ralston," he replied, setting aside his satchel and
coming to his feet. "I know you prefer to meet in my offices, but my man
only returned last evening, and I thought you would want his news
immediately."

"Yes, thank you," she answered, motioning him to resume his
seat. She was too nervous to sit, herself, and tried not to squeeze her hands
together. "What did he discover?"

He cleared his throat and reached into the satchel. "No estate is
officially up for sale in Staffordshire," he began, pulling out a piece of
parchment and handing it to her, "but representatives of these parties
have all been to Crestley Hall in the past few weeks. I must preface this by
saying that the following is purely conjecture, but the offer of the party at
the bottom of the list, the name I've circled, was apparently accepted three
days ago."

While he was speaking Katherine perused the paper.

Most of the names were unfamiliar to her, but even so, she felt she was
looking at a list of her worst enemies. Francis DuPres's name was fourth from
the top, and for a brief moment she was grateful that it was not he whom she
would have to battle for her home. The circled name at the bottom, though,
stopped her cold. "Are you certain of this?" she whispered, her voice
cracking. Feeling abruptly faint, she sat down on the couch.

"Yes, my man was quite certain. As far as we know, no funds have
changed hands yet, so we still have time to file a motion in court." He
looked down, clearing his throat again. "However, considering who you are
apparently up against, I really don't―"

"No. No," Katherine whispered, staring at the list. No wonder
Nicholas had been so attentive to her. He had wanted to make certain she didn't
suspect anything. "I shall take care of this, Mr. Hodges." She made
her way to the door, opening it and motioning him out. "Please send me
your bill."

"Miss Ralston, I would be more than―"

"Please, Mr. Hodges. I will handle it."

The solicitor picked up his things and walked to the door, then
hesitated. "I'm quite sorry," he muttered, and bowed to her.
"Good day, milady."

''Thank you," Kate replied numbly. As soon as he was gone she
rushed upstairs into her bedchamber and slammed the door shut behind her.

She was not surprised that her uncle had somehow found a way to sell off
Crestley Hall, for she had suspected all along that he would attempt something
like that. But Nicholas had betrayed her. He had danced with her, teased with
her, and sent her roses. She looked at the beautiful arrangement sitting on
her dressing table, then without ceremony turned it upside down into the
chamber pot.