The Duke's Dilemma (18 page)

“Now where do you suppose the duke and that creature have gone?” Lady Sophia asked. “He’ has never been one to wander about socializing during the intervals.

Lady Cloris looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “Jared has probably gone home. I warned you we would ruin the opera for him.”

“Did I hear someone speak my name?”

Emily swiveled round in her chair, as did the two ladies flanking her, to find the duke standing at the entrance to their box. Dressed all in black and with a devilish smile lighting his strong, chiseled features, he had never looked more handsome…or more dangerous. Emily shivered as a frightening presentiment gripped her.

“Good evening, ladies. Enjoying the opera I trust. I cannot remember when Catalani has been in such rare form.” The duke’s gaze lingered momentarily on Lady Sophia. “Something I cannot say for everyone.”

Emily heard Lady Sophia’s sharp intake of breath, and realized she had been holding her own breath since he first stepped through the door of the box. Beside her, Lady Cloris gave a soft, mewling whimper.

His lazy gaze switched to Emily, and she felt her heart plunge to her toes. “May I compliment you on your exquisite gown, Miss Haliburton. I perceive you have engaged a new modiste—Madame Fanchon, unless I mistake the cut. You must allow me to escort you on a stroll around the antechamber. Such excellent taste deserves to be displayed.”

Emily’s knees were shaking so badly, they literally knocked against each other, but she plucked up her courage. “Thank you for your kind offer, your grace, but I am not in the mood for a stroll at the moment.”

The duke surveyed her with a look so icy, Emily felt the chill penetrate to the very core of her being. “But when shall we find a better time to converse, dear lady?”

Emily gulped. “I have nothing to say to you, your grace.”

“Ah, but I have a great deal to say to you, Miss Haliburton. And since we are known throughout the
ton
to be friends—I very close friends—I should be courting malicious gossip if I failed to acknowledge that friendship publicly.”

A diabolic smile spread across his handsome features. “And, as I am certain my lady aunts will attest, malicious gossip is the last thing any person of good breeding would wish to court.”

Sparks flared in Lady Sophia ‘s eyes and she opened her mouth, obviously to protest the duke ‘s less than subtle innuendo. But a quelling look from him instantly put paid to her intention. “Oh. for heaven ‘s sake,” she grumbled. “Do as he says, child. The game is over and the rogue holds the winning hand.”

With quaking heart, Emily proceeded the duke through the door to the crowded antechamber and placed her hand on the arm he offered. All eyes followed them as they slowly strolled the perimeter of the vast, ornate room, leaving a trail of fluttering fans and whispered speculations in their wake.

“So, Emily,” he said softly, “you have taken your revenge for the hoax I played on you. And what a cruel revenge it was! I do believe you have more than evened the score.”

To the eager spectators surrounding them, the duke might appear to be smiling with the easy congeniality of the old friend he purported to be. But Emily could see the pain and anger in his eyes, and her blood ran cold.

“Smile at me, Emily,” he demanded. “We do not want the gossips of the
ton
to think we are at odds with each other.”

Emily smiled. “Pray tell me, your grace, what have
I
done to you that could compare to what
you
did to me?” she asked, fanning herself vigorously in the hot, overcrowded room. “Surely a few raised eyebrows and a little tittering behind fans will not mark a man such as you for life. “

“I do not refer to this tasteless charade you and my lady aunts have carried on tonight,” he replied grimly, “though we will most certainly speak later of the disgraceful way you have displayed yourself.”

He stared pointedly at her
décolletage
, and Emily felt her hackles rise. “How I display myself is my own business, your grace, and none of your concern.” She looked about her. As far as she could see, her neckline looked positively modest compared to those of many of the jeweled and perfumed women staring so avidly at the duke and her.

She tossed her head. “What does it matter? I am already a ruined woman.”

“Hell and damnation, Emily, your own impetuosity was as much the cause of your ruination as anything I did.” He scowled fiercely. “But be that as it may, you are now my concern whether you like it or not. “

He raised a hand to forestall the objection that rose to her lips. “Do not fight me on this, for I have had all the trouble from you I can tolerate.”

“Trouble, your grace?” Emily was forced to move closer to her elegant companion as a couple brushed by them. “I ask you again. Just what is this trouble I am supposed to have caused you?”

The duke placed a protective arm about her shoulder, but his eyes sparked with angry silver fire. “My God, woman, have you no concept of the hell you have put me through? Five days and five nights I searched for you in every back alley of London, thinking it was I who had driven you alone and penniless into the streets. Can you imagine the horrors I pictured? There were even times when I imagined I…but we will speak of that another day.”

Emily stared at him in utter bewilderment, the smile he had commanded still frozen on her face. “I am truly sorry, your grace. I didn’t know. It never occurred to me someone like you would care what happened to me.”

The duke winced as if she had struck him. “
Touché
, Emily,” he said bleakly. “I doubt the finest swordsman in all of England could have skewered me more effectively.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back toward his aunts’ box, literally dragging Emily behind him through the crowd of curious, chattering operagoers.

Executing a stiff bow first to Lady Cloris then to Lady Sophia, he declared, “You may expect my formal call at your residence tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. I trust that will be convenient.”

“Of course, your grace. We shall be pleased to receive you,” Lady Sophia replied, looking very much like the kitchen cat with a cornered mouse.

Emily blinked, wondering why she should be so happy her arrogant nephew was making a social call, when just moments before he had delivered her a cleverly worded insult. What strange creatures these aristocrats were. She doubted she would ever understand them.

Hours later, as she lay abed reliving her own inexplicable conversation with the duke, she pondered another puzzle. Word by word, sentence by sentence, she recounted everything the charming, unprincipled rake had said, but for the life of her, she could not determine how he had contrived to whitewash his own evil deeds and make her feel as if she were the one who had sunk herself beneath reproach.

I
t was precisely one minute before the hour of eleven when Jared stepped from his carriage and walked up the steps to his aunts’ Grosvenor Square townhouse. The old ladies were waiting for him in the green and gold salon on the second floor. Emily was not.

“Where is she?” he demanded, gripped by an uneasy feeling of
déjà-vu
.

Lady Cloris looked up from her embroidery. “Miss Haliburton and her abigail have gone for a walk—in the park, I believe.”

“The devil you say! Is the woman trying to drive me out of my mind? Surely she was aware of the purpose of my call.”

Lady Sophia chuckled. “Strange as it may seem, your grace, I do not believe she had the slightest notion. We tried to persuade her to await your arrival, but she declined most firmly. As she put it, ‘the duke said all he had to say to me last evening—none of it complimentary. I have no wish to be raked over those particular coals again.’”

“Miss Haliburton is from a different echelon of society than we are, you see,” Lady Cloris explained in her usual placid voice. “One I am inclined to think is much more honest and direct. She would not expect to be ‘raked over the coals,’ as she put it, one day and proposed to the next.” She knotted her thread and bit it off. “Do sit down, my dear. She should return shortly.”

Squinting, she rethreaded her needle with a different color thread. “But perhaps it would be wise to have one of the footmen instruct your coachman to return in an hour or so. I doubt she’ll come in if she sees your carriage.”

Jared did as she suggested, although it annoyed him mightily. Still, he found himself intrigued by the idea of taking Emily by surprise with his offer. No telling how she would show her gratitude for the honor he was bestowing on her but, knowing Emily, she would do something quite unexpected.

Thirty long, tedious minutes later, he was still listening to his aunts’ idle chatter when Emily walked into the room. He rose instantly and glowered down at her, as was his fashion. Though, in truth, she looked so delectable in her flowered dimity dress, he was hard put to keep his hands off her.

“You’re still here,” she said, obviously flustered.

“His grace has been waiting to speak to you,” Lady Sophia said and, leaning heavily on her cane, made her way toward the door. Smiling shyly, Lady Cloris followed suit and, to Emily’s surprise, closed the door behind her.

“You wished to see me, your grace?”

“I did, Em…Miss Haliburton.” Jared cleared his throat. Now that the moment had come, he found himself oddly ill at ease. “In my opinion enough has been said on the events which have transpired between us in recent weeks. I prefer not to touch on that subject again.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I am certain I would feel the same were I you, your grace.”

Jared did not particularly like her tone of voice, but he dismissed it without comment. “Suffice it to say, I am aware I triggered events which placed you in a compromising position.” Instantly a picture of Edgar stumbling upon them while he lay in her arms with his head on her breast flashed through his mind. The very thought of that softest of pillows caused certain parts of his anatomy to react in ways which were most embarrassing, considering how the new trousers that fool Weston had designed molded his body.

“If this is an apology, your grace, I accept it in the same spirit it was given, though it is long overdue.”

“Hell and damnation, Emily. It is not an apology. That is, I suppose it is an apology of sorts, but that is not my primary reason for seeking you out. Honor demands that I offer for you. For while your common roots may exclude from those I would normally consider qualified to be my duchess, you are a virtuous woman.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He had said it and he was heartily glad it was over and done with.

“You are offering to marry me?” Emily stared at him, agape. Jared had visions of her warm, full lips opening beneath his, that impudent tongue employed in the tantalizing ways he had already begun teaching her in the few passionate kisses they had shared.

She raised her stubborn little chin and stared at him in that same proud way she had that first morning when she ‘d called him a looby. “You must be mad to think I would consider marrying you,” she said. “One day you are a lying, scheming highwayman who takes unspeakable liberties with my person; the next you are an icy aristocrat whose very look freezes me to the bone. I cannot think either of your personalities would qualify you for the role of loving husband any more than my ‘common roots’ would qualify me for the role of duchess. In short, your grace, we simply would not suit.”

Jared chuckled to himself. What a saucy baggage she was; just thinking about her in his bed made his blood race so hotly he had to blink his eyes to clear his vision. “You will learn what is required of you in time,” he said confidently. “I do not demand instant perfection. I am not, after all, an unreasonable man. My aunts can instruct you in many of the things you will need to know as my duchess and I will personally instruct you in others.” What those others would be he dared not mention until they were safely married.

He stepped forward to take her in his arms and seal their betrothal with a kiss—but to his surprise, she retreated behind a nearby loveseat. “I thank you for the honor you have bestowed on me, your grace,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I cannot bring myself to take it seriously. For I have no desire to spend the rest of my life hobnobbing with the aristocracy.”

Jared felt a twinge of uneasiness. It was not like Emily to play coy. If he didn’t know better, he would almost think she was refusing him. “You have no choice in the matter,” he said sternly. “Nor do I. We are involved in a scandal. Only marriage will save you from utter ruin.”

“Utter ruin in whose eyes? The
ton
? I say fie on the
ton
. What do I care for the opinions of people whose only reason for their purposeless existence is their own gratification.”

Jared’s uneasiness accelerated noticeably. This was not going as he had planned.

“Devil take it, Emily, you would not lead such a useless existence as my wife. You could become involved in any number of charities and I have numerous estates which need a mistress.” He could see from the expression on her face that the use of the word “mistress,” even in the most innocent of connotations, had been a mistake.

“And that’s another thing,” Emily declared. “When I marry it will be to a man who loves me and me alone. I have no desire to share him with a mistress, as is common in the marriages of the aristocracy.”

“If you are referring to Lady Crawley,” he said stiffly, “we have gone our separate ways as of last evening. I am not in favor of so-called ‘modern marriages.’ My own parents’ example was enough to sicken me on that score. Besides,” he added in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I do not think I shall be in need of a mistress once we are married, little firebrand.”

Emily ignored his attempt at levity. She searched his face with wide, inquisitive eyes. “Did you love her?”

“Carolyn? No, I did not love her if you are referring to the kind. of emotional rubbish your Mrs. Radcliffe portrays in her novels. Ours was a practical arrangement.”

“But you made love to her, probably hundreds of times in the years she was your mistress. You strike me as a man with strong appetites.”

“This does not strike
me
as a conversation I should be having with my future duchess,” Jared said, attempting to look more shocked than he actually felt. He could see he was going to have the kind of frank and open relationship with Emily that few men of his social status enjoyed with their wives. The idea did not displease him in the least.

He scowled as fiercely as he could manage, considering how close he was to laughing at his impertinent little bluestocking. “What, may I ask. is the purpose of this inquisition, Miss Haliburton?”

Emily ‘s cheeks were flushed, her eyes almost too bright. “The purpose is to determine your attitude toward love. You don’t even believe in it, do you?”

He was tempted to lie to her. Somehow he couldn’t. There had already been too many lies between them. “No, Emily,” he said gently. “I do not. I am afraid such fantasies were bred out of my bloodline shortly after my ancestors crossed the Channel. But if I were capable of believing in fairy tales, I am sure you would be the woman who would inspire me to do so. For I desire you more than I have ever desired any other woman. Is that not sufficient to ease your mind?”

“No, your grace, it is not. For I do believe in love, you see, and I will marry for no other reason—be he a duke or the most impoverished of country vicars..”

She swiped viciously at the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Therefore, I must respectfully decline your most generous offer, for I can see we really would not suit at all.”

She was sobbing in earnest now and her breasts heaved with the exertion. “You should marry another jaded sophisticate like yourself,” she gasped through great, choking breaths. “That way neither of you would have expectations the other could not fulfill.”

“What have you done, you foolish girl? How could you refuse the Duke of Montford?” Lady Sophia looked on the verge of apoplexy. “All our hard work for naught! I swear I could shake you until your teeth rattled.”

“Calm yourself, sister,” Lady Cloris said. “I am certain Miss Haliburton had good reason for what she did—although I confess I cannot imagine what it might be.”

Emily sank onto the loveseat to which she had been clinging since the duke had crushed her lips in a brutal kiss, told her to think about
that
while she lay each night in her spinster’s bed, and stalked out of the salon just moments before.

Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed openly. She felt certain she had done the right thing. Agreeing to spend the rest of her life with a man who did not love her—indeed, was incapable of loving her—would be tantamount to condemning herself to eternal torment. Especially when she loved that impossible man with all her heart despite his many shortcomings.

Just remembering how strong his arms had felt wrapped around her and how warm and demanding his lips had felt pressed to hers made her ache in those secret parts of her body she’d only just recently become aware of. She was desperately afraid no other man would ever make her ache in such a delightful way again.

Maybe it would have been better to settle for what he could give her and not demand what he did not have to give. At least then she might have had his children on which to lavish the love he didn’t want.

But no! It would have been living a lie and she was the world’s worst actress. Sooner or later he would realize how she felt about him—and how humiliating that would be for both of them.

For he had freely admitted he ‘d only made his offer because honor demanded it. That folderol he’d prattled later about desiring her above all other women had obviously been nothing more than his clumsy attempt at kindness. She had eyes in her head; she had seen the kind of woman who appealed to him.

She felt Lady Cloris slip a comforting arm around her shoulders and press a handkerchief into her hand. “Was I mistaken, my dear? I was so sure you cared for my nephew.”

Emily sobbed even louder. “I do care for him,” she wailed. “I…I love him. Don’t you see, that was why I couldn’t accept his offer.” She turned her face into Lady Cloris’s shoulder and clung to her the way she had been used to cling to her dear mama when she ‘d been hurt as a child.

“Well, I never. If that doesn’t make the least sense of anything I’ve ever heard,” Lady Sophia declared, settling herself in a nearby chair.

” It makes perfect sense, sister.” Lady Cloris smoothed Emily’s hair back from her forehead with gentle fingers. “Miss Haliburton is a romantic and if I know Jared, he probably made his offer sound much like he was placing a bid for a filly at Tattersall’s. Her refusal may wake him up to how deeply he cares for her and he will make her the kind of offer every woman in love desires; if he does not, then they are better off apart.”

“Humph! I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, Miss Haliburton.” Lady Sophia’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “For if that was your gamble, it was foolish in the extreme. No man as proud as Montford could ever care enough for any woman to risk such humiliation twice.”

Jared had been drinking steadily since he returned home from his aunts’ townhouse yesterday morning—or was it the day before? He wasn’t even certain how many bottles of fine French brandy he had consumed. He was, however, certain of one thing: For a man who had always felt nothing but disgust for men who drowned their sorrows in the bottle, he was managing to be unspeakably disgusting himself over his rejection by Miss Emily Haliburton. Even that most obsequious of minions, his butler Pettigrew, had ventured to suggest it was high time he stopped wallowing in self-pity and pulled himself together.

But the problem was, he could think of no good reason to pull himself together. Facing life without Emily was bad enough while one was thoroughly castaway; it would be completely unbearable if one were sober. He reached for the nearly empty brandy bottle at his elbow and poured himself another drink. If any man ever deserved to wallow, he was surely that man.

The library door opened behind him and he heard someone tiptoeing toward the chair in which he was slumped. Who did the idiot think he was fooling? He was drunk, for God’s sake; not deaf.