The Heart of a Duke (4 page)

So how could he forget his father or neglect his legacy?

He could not. But Bedford Hall was Edmund’s domain, and Daniel’s options were limited. His brother had made it clear when he inherited the title that he did not want, nor appreciate, Daniel’s input or advice in regard to estate matters. All he desired from Daniel was the view of his backside kicked out the front door and his promise to never return.

An image of Julia’s flushed features flashed before him. Hell, the damage had been done. He had already trespassed on forbidden ground, and he’d be damned if he regretted doing so.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He would visit his father’s estates and see the changes Edmund’s management had wrought. Resolved, he glanced up at Robbie. “And where is my evil twin these days? In London? Or rusticating here in the country?”

Robbie smiled. “A buyer of mine mentioned he was joining Bedford at a hunting party in Kent, so that should give you some time.

“While the cat’s away . . .” He let his words trail off.

“Exactly. The wee mice can strategize . . .” Robbie agreed.

Edmund had not only left his lands open to trespassers, but had left his lovely fiancée alone as well.

Daniel surmised Julia would make an appearance at the fall festival. Attending the fair had moved to the top of his agenda.

He anticipated their paths crossing again. She would still be spitting mad, but he could not summon regret for kissing her. Would make no apologies for doing so. Damned if he did not want to do it again.

Privately he added that to his growing agenda.

J
ULIA
had spent a restless night tossing and turning, feeling hot and sweaty one moment and in the next, yearning for something just beyond her grasp . . .

As she traversed the fairgrounds the next morning, she worried her lower lip, oblivious to the crowds jostling her as she pondered her reaction. Should a kiss affect one so? Considering it had been her first, she had no idea. Something tightened in her chest, pain at having to concede that Daniel’s kiss had been her first, for she was long past the age when a woman should have a few illicit pecks to boast about.

More to the point, her first kiss should have been with Edmund. It should have been special, memorable. Not to say that Daniel did not kiss very well, or as well as she could judge, having no comparisons in regard to such matters. She furrowed her brow, finding it hard to believe another kiss could be more thorough than theirs had been, or be done more expertly, or be more . . .

“Julia?”

The amused voice penetrated her runaway thoughts and Julia jumped, turning to blink at her sister. “What . . . where?”

“I believe those are my questions.” Emily laughed. “What in the world are you thinking about? Your cheeks are bright pink.” Emily studied her more closely. “In fact, you look a bit feverish, are you all right? Really, Julia, you have not been yourself since you rushed into the house yesterday, looking as if the Hounds of Hell were on your heels. What
is
the matter with you?”

It was an incredibly long speech for Emily, for her sister had become a woman of few words since Jason’s death two years ago. It put Julia in a quandary, for while delighted to see Emily find her voice, it was an inopportune moment for her to do so—or to be so astute.

“Julia?”

“Well, I . . .” She felt as if she had been caught doing something forbidden. And she was not, or she was not anymore. Feeling her cheeks flame, she met Emily’s amused regard, struggling to form a response when none came to mind.

The surrounding crowds rescued her from her reticence. Snatches of conversations rose above the din.

“He’s right crazy!”

“Don’t care. I got me two bob ridin’ on Black Devil tossing the toff on his arse. I aim to get me a new trowel with me winnings.”

“He must have lost his wits in America. It’s right dangerous for a bloke to be witless round Black Devil.”

“Well, here’s hoping he don’t find ’em. I need me a new trowel.”

“He’s got the looks of His Grace, and His Grace has a right fine seat on a horse. Might want to be rethin’ your wager.”

Julia heard no more. The comparison to His Grace identified the witless toff. As much as she’d like to see Robbie Tanner’s new, unbroken stallion toss Lord Daniel Bryant on his hindquarters, she could not face the man just yet. Not when tongue-tied and under Emily’s suspicious regard.

Unfortunately, the decision was not hers to make. Julia looped her arm securely through Emily’s as they found themselves carried along with the throngs of villagers, moved like flotsam in a river of people. Excitement rippled through the crowds. They appeared to be heading toward the paddocks next to Tanner Stables, which abutted the village square.

“Oh dear, Robbie must be taking bets on that poor horse unseating all challengers. It is not right, Julia.” Emily said, worry edging her voice.

She squeezed Emily’s forearm. “He will find a buyer for him soon. The horse is too valuable for him to stable for long. Robbie deals in the sale of prime bloodstock, not losing pounds over the board and keep of them.”

“But if the horse is mad . . .”

“He is not mad. Just spirited.” She slid her arm around her sister’s waist, disturbed at her choice of words.

Madness was not something Julia wished to contemplate, not after the past year. An image of Emily standing with a pair of shears clutched in her hand flashed before her. Covering her sister’s bare feet were the golden strands of her once beautiful long hair. Emily’s eyes had pooled with tears.
Jason loved my hair,
she had said.

She tightened her grip on Emily and buried the image. After all, Emily was much, much better now. Taking her away to the Lake District for a few months had been restorative. No one need ever know of how dark that period had been, for no one knew the true extent of her sister’s despair but Edmund and the family. He had kept their family’s confidence, his future linked with theirs through his betrothal to Julia. Julia frowned at her train of thought. Of course, Edmund would have been discreet had they not been betrothed.

The proximity of the crowds drew her attention. They had thinned around her as they became aware of whom they carried in their midst. Her father, the earl, was highly esteemed in Taunton, generous and benevolent to the village. She smiled at familiar faces, nodding to those who bobbed a brief curtsy despite the ruckus surrounding them. “My ladies.” The murmurs reached her as a path was cleared for them to move forward.

They joined the audience standing before the paddock fence. Men propped their elbows on the top rails and hooted encouragement at the scene unfolding before them. Young boys perched on the fence rail to gain a better vantage point. The whisper of a breeze swept the audience, the sky a vast canvas of cerulean blue. The afternoon sun dazzled, a bright beacon to grace the day.

She scanned the crowds for her younger brother’s towhead. Her father had succumbed to his pleading and escorted him to the festival earlier in the day. She caught sight of Jonathan’s shining face from his perch atop one of the rails, one arm slung around a nearby post. Her heart lifted at the sight of her father’s tall figure hovering protectively beside him, the intimate tableau another reminder that all was well with her family.

Lifting her arm to wave, her gesture froze in midair as the man standing a short distance away from her brother’s perch distracted her.

One couldn’t miss him, for he towered half a head taller than most of the men, his fine clothes marking him as aristocracy. From his pristine dark blue riding jacket, custom fit over his broad shoulders, to the tips of his Hessian riding boots, the man exuded an aura of wealth and power. A ten-year absence did not eradicate blood ties, and Lord Daniel Bryant was aristocratic to the bone, the brother of a duke and his heir apparent. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and she saw the ripple effect his presence had caused.

Eyes narrowed in speculation, the men elbowing each other and nodding toward Daniel. Coins exchanging hands clinked as wages were laid. Women neatened their skirts and tucked stray strands of hair under their mobcaps while their eyes lapped up Daniel’s tall figure like a succulent treat they’d like to sample. Julia noted the brazen looks, a few just short of ogling.

“So that’s Bryant. I had heard that he had returned,” Emily murmured, wonder in her voice. “Hasn’t he grown up well.”

“One would think one had never seen a handsome man before.” She shrugged. “The years have been kind to him. He is taller.”

Emily stared at her, and then burst out laughing.

Two conflicting emotions battled within her, joy at the rare sound of her sister’s laughter and annoyance at the cause of it. The latter overrode her pleasure. “What is it? I do not see what all the fuss is about it. The man is good looking, but—”

“He is a mirror image of his brother. What do you call him,
Beautiful Bedford
?”

It had been a weak moment when she had confided in her sister.

“I wonder why he has finally returned home after all these years away?”

Emily’s question echoed her own during her restless night. She frowned at Daniel, who stood with his head bowed listening to Robbie, who gestured to the closed doors of the stables behind them.

Why did you come back?

His exodus had been as abrupt as his return. He had disappeared but a month after his father’s funeral, and a fortnight after Lakeview Manor had burned to the ground. Edmund claimed that in his haste to depart, he had left behind most of his belongings.

She was five years younger than the twins, who had been eighteen at the time. She recalled her parents’ surprise at his leaving Edmund to step into his title and shoulder the responsibility for the estates alone. Rumors circulated that Daniel’s grief over the combined loss of his father and Lakeview Manor had propelled his flight.

Grief might explain his departure, but it did not explain the ensuing silence. It had been as if Daniel was swallowed up by the night, his disappearance complete when Edmund forbade even the mention of his name.

And why, after a decade’s absence, had he returned?

It couldn’t be just to torment her. As if he had heard the accusation, Daniel’s head lifted and his gaze locked on her. His eyes traveled from the blue velvet ribbons topping her bonnet, down the buttons lining her bodice, to the bottom of her blue skirts and back up. Goose bumps rose on her arms, her high-waisted spencer jacket and layered petticoats poor protection against his slow scrutiny.

When his eyes fastened on her mouth, a slow, intimate smile curved those familiar lips. The heated perusal combined with the memory of his mouth, warm and insistent on hers, caused her to catch her breath and retreat a step.

His smile broadened and he tipped his head in an imperceptible greeting before he returned his attention to Robbie. She exhaled.

“I do believe he remembers you.” Emily arched a delicate brow at Julia, amused.

Avoiding Emily’s eyes, she shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“I wonder if he’s staying with his brother.”

Unsettled, she spoke without thinking. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say.”

“Pardon?” Emily stared at her. “You have spoken to him? When? Why did you not mention it?”

Cursing her slip, she waved her hand airily, unable to meet her sister’s eyes. “We happened to cross paths yesterday. It was very brief. We did not get a chance to catch up.” He had been too busy posing as Edmund and kissing her senseless.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Is that what had you so flustered yesterday—?”

“Look.” She interrupted Emily, desperate to redirect her attention. She needed time for her cheeks to cool and to form a plausible denial. She moved closer to the fence, aware that her sister’s speculative look followed her.

Robbie slid one of the stable doors open, his imposing size blocking the entrance, leaving a gap wide enough for Daniel to slip through. The sounds of the crowd had dropped to expectant rumbles, all eyes riveted to Robbie’s broad back. He peered over his shoulder and beamed a smile at the crowd, his brown eyes brimming with anticipation. A bit of a showman, Robbie savored exhibitions of his horses, and having a long lost lord participate could only double his delight.

Bracing his shoulder against the door, he swung it fully open, then dove quickly to the side to avoid over nine hundred stone of pulsating, wild black stallion plowing into him as the animal half leapt, half galloped outside.

The crowd responded in a collective gasp as Black Devil gathered speed and cantered around the paddock with Daniel astride, riding bareback on the beast. His back straight, the reins grasped loosely as he circled the paddock. There was none of the stallion’s usual antics, the frenzied bucking or wild rearing to dislodge his rider. Absent was the feral gleam igniting his coal black eyes, the savage snarl that bared his teeth, or the hooves pawing the air and reaching for the nearest head to decapitate.

“Glory be! Will ye look at that!”

“That be Black Devil?
Robbie’s
Black Devil?”

“More like a little lamb.”

“What did the toff do to him?”

“Bollocks! I needed me a new trowel.”

Julia stared as the horse reared back, the thick cords in his neck bulging as he tossed his mane, his snow-white forelegs pawing the air.

An incredible specimen of horse, all quivering muscle and sinew, the sun burnished his coat to a fine, black sheen. She curled her fingers over the fence rail in a white-knuckled grip. Blood drained from her head as she feared witnessing Daniel cracking his skull open, but one look at his expression had her catching her breath.

The idiot was laughing! His handsome features were alight, his white teeth flashing, and his dark hair wind-combed and wild. The grip of his muscular thighs pressing into the stallion’s sides braced him on the horse. Her heart gave a traitorous leap at the pure, masculine beauty of man and beast in full accord as the animal settled back on all fours. At a gentle urging from Daniel, Black Devil circled the paddock for an encore performance while the crowd roared its approval, hats tossed in the air.

Daniel rode with athletic grace, ease, and unabashed joy. This stunt settled one matter for her—she would never mistake this man for his brother again.

They were like opposing faces on a coin. While they looked alike, Bedford was self-contained, aloof, and, well . . . aristocratic. Daniel’s years abroad had clearly stamped their imprint on him. Like his adopted country, from the little she had viewed of him, Daniel was bold, unconventional, and daring . . . if not a bit wild. All marked him as dangerous. She vowed to keep her distance from the man even as she leaned forward to get an unobstructed view of horse and rider.