The Heart of a Duke (5 page)

Elle noticed a warmth in her mother’s gaze as
she spoke of her father. It was there more and more
lately.

She kicked her eldest brother under the table,
wondering if he had noticed the changes. He jerked in his chair,
shooting her a look of irritation.

"Ellie doesn't need my support."
Alex cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, out of reach
of her toes, his plate devoid of even a shred of ham. He raised one
brow in jest. "She's the princess of the
ton
. She'll be so busy, she wouldn't
even know I was there. Would you, Peaches?"

Elle sent him a bright smile and fluttered her
lashes. "I promise I will not miss you even a moment, should you
stay in London."

Alex snorted, but Mama narrowed her eyes
across the table at them. "That is not helpful in the least,
Eleanore."

"I apologize, Mama. And I, too, am sorry Papa
won't be joining us." Elle's voice was breezy as she removed the
fatty edges from her ham with the sort of precision that would do
the royal surgeon proud. Suddenly she experienced a renewed sense
of hope. If her parents had come to love one another, perhaps she
could make the duke love her too. She did have the pendant, after
all.

She glanced over at Peter, forever stuck
between his siblings as they squabbled. He had been silent during
their exchange, never once looking up from his newspaper. "And you,
Peter? Will you be staying in London with Alex or coming to the
duke's with me?"

His gaze still on the paper in front of him,
he reached out for his tea. "Neither. I'm off to Scotland to visit
Grandfather."

Mama sighed and Alex groaned, but Elle just
blinked, the bit of egg on her fork forgotten halfway to her
mouth.

Grandfather hadn't spoken to any of them in
years, not since Father decided that the Highlands were too far
north to summer and bought Huntington Manor in Devon instead.
Extremely offended, Grandfather had sent Mama a scathing letter
about abandoning her heritage or some such thing.

"I had no idea that you and Grandfather were
in contact." Elle set down her fork carefully. She missed him.
Missed how he always ignored Papa's disapproval, taking Elle and
the boys with him fishing. How he always smelled of peppermints.
How he had always listened and asked for her opinion, and acted as
though it held value.

He had been the only adult in her life to ever
do so.

Peter glanced up, his unreadable gaze
connecting with Elle's. "I did not say we were in
contact."

Nonplussed, she said no more as he checked his
pocket watch and rose from the table. Alex glared at his younger
brother as he made his way to the door.

"Abandoning me to the whims of London society
while you run off to play Highlander?"

"You don't need me anymore than Elle needs
you."

Mama rose from the breakfast table
as well. "Well,
I
need all three of you back together and here in London by the
end of the summer." There was no hint of compromise on her face and
Elle almost felt pity for her brothers. Almost. "You will be here
to attend the festivities the week before your sister's wedding.
Each and every one of them."

Alex flinched and Peter sighed, looking
resigned. Elle bit the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing at
their pained expressions as Mama swept out of the room.

"Give Grandfather my best, would
you?"

"Of course. Have fun at Brookdale."

Elle raised her eyebrow, ignoring the
tightness in her chest at the thought of the week ahead trying to
win her future husband's affections. Not to mention trying to avoid
his attractive and bothersome cousin.

"When have I not managed to enjoy myself?" she
said.

"True." He tipped his head in concession.
"Brother. Stay out of trouble."

Alex just grunted, obviously still annoyed
that his younger brother was heading north instead of staying in
London to carouse with him. Peter's lips twisted in a faint smile
and he slipped out of the room, leaving Elle and Alex alone. She
turned in her seat to regard him.

"Tell me the true reason you aren't coming to
the party."

"How do you know it isn't the one I
gave?"

"Oh, because I
know
you. You couldn't care less if
I noticed you were there or not."

Alex lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "The real
reason is not fit for little, unmarried ears."

Ahh. He was mistress hunting, then.

Her brothers thought she did not know their
rakish habits, but Elle was no fool. She had listened at more than
one keyhole over the years. Well, how else could a girl become
informed on the true nature of men?

Even the duke's rakish cousin had been knocked
off balance the evening before by her admittance that she had
thought about passion more than once. He had tried to hide it, but
she had seen the shock that slid through his eyes at her words. In
truth, Elle had no intention of sharing such a thing with him, but
he had made her so mad, and it had just popped out before she even
realized what she was doing.

For a moment, she had thought he was going to
volunteer to rectify her lack of kisses, and for a moment, she
feared she might let him.

Her heart thumped hard enough to knock her
breath away. Elle scraped back her chair, the legs dragging on the
wooden floor with a dull screech, startling Alex into bobbling his
teacup. "I... I need to supervise Julia's packing. I'll see you
when I return."

She escaped before he could
comment, fingering the gypsy pendant around her neck as she hurried
up the stairs. She was betrothed to Langley and not free to wonder
about other men's kisses. Especially the kisses of men like Jacob,
whose reputation with the widows preceded him. Perhaps if
the
duke
would
just blasted kiss her already, she'd be able to stop speculating on
whether Jacob's coppery hair was as soft to touch as it
looked.

Her dear friend Lady Alison
Griffith was in the way of being a scientist, or as much as any
lady of the
ton
ever could be, and was always going on about field tests and
such. Elle just knew her friend would advise her that her theory
about her betrothed must be proven out, in a controlled
environment. Well, Langley's house party could be considered such a
situation, and perhaps an experiment was in order.

She would kiss the duke, and if she did it
right, it would put all thoughts of other men from her mind
forever.

Even that infuriating Jacob
Farrish.

"You must be joking."

Jacob stared at his cousin, wondering when the
man had gone mad. He picked up the brandy that had been poured for
him and threw it back in one swallow, savoring the burn as it slid
down his throat.

His gaze searched the duke's face, but saw no
hint that his cousin was indeed playing a prank. "Do I look like a
wedding liaison, Langley? What exactly do you expect I do? I'm a
man of the law, not some society fribble."

He could not do as his cousin asked, not after
promising himself the night of the Hastings' ball that he'd steer
clear of Elle from there on out.

"As your most ardent supporter,
monetarily and socially, I
expect
a bit of reciprocity. I
expect
you to take charge of things
that vex me." The duke looked unconcerned as he leaned back in his
chair and swirled the liquor in his own glass before taking a
swallow. "This wedding vexes me. Correction: my mother and Lady St.
Aidans are plaguing, hounding, and haranguing me, attempting to
drag me into every tiny decision."

"I am not in charge of dealing
with
things that vex you. I did not study
for years to become a barrister so I could chase away people who
pester you. We are no longer children, Langley. You must learn to
fend for yourself at some point."

The duke continued as if he had not heard
Jacob's strident protest. "Do you think it matters to me if
Eleanore wears cream or robin's egg blue? Or if the long tables are
decorated with lilies or roses? It does not. I do not care in the
least."

"And I do?"

Jacob loved his cousin, which was the reason
he hadn't punched him in the face years ago. Langley could be an
arrogant pain in the arse, but really, this was too much. The man
was attempting to fob off his betrothed and his wedding
responsibilities onto Jacob because they were an annoyance. It was
one thing to step in now and then to give his cousin a small amount
of freedom, as Langley didn't often have any at all, but what he
was proposing was something different altogether.

While the idea of spending the entire house
party by Elle's side was exhilarating, Jacob also knew it would be
dangerous beyond measure.

"You will get paid to care about such things,
cousin." Langley lifted his eyebrows, his gaze lit with arrogant
amusement. "I will grant you one thousand pounds if you take over
my wedding duties. I will also provide an open purse with which to
please the ladies in their furor over flowers and lace. Just keep
my betrothed occupied and happy, and out of my way."

Holy hell, Langley was offering him a bribe.
Unbelievable. "You must truly be desperate."

"
I
am.
" His cousin's feverish reply almost
made Jacob laugh, but the thought of a thousand pounds gave him
pause.

It would go a long way in setting him up
toward his ultimate goal of a royal court appointment. The rise of
a Scottish-born barrister to King's Court, even one who was cousin
to one of the most powerful dukes in England, was not easy. It made
no difference in the eyes of most peers that Jacob had never even
lived in Scotland, but had been raised in London and on Langley's
country estates. It was money that would ease his way, and give him
a respectable appearance while he wooed various lords who might be
of help to him.

The only thing that stood in his way was his
unruly desire for Lady Eleanore.

But after hiding it from the world, and the
lady herself, for almost half a decade, what was another month? A
mere four weeks. He would get through the house party, then go find
himself a case of whiskey and a doxie to ride out the rest of the
Season. Perhaps if he stayed drunk enough, he'd manage to miss the
wedding altogether, and save himself the torture of watching Elle
marry his cousin.

Decision made, Jacob swallowed against the
rawness of his throat, and held out his glass for a refill from the
brandy decanter in front of Langley.

"I accept."

The duke smiled with satisfaction as he
poured. "Good man."

Hardly.

But if suffering from close proximity to Lady
Eleanore put him closer to the accomplishment of his ambitions, he
would bear his cross with gladness.

Well, perhaps not
gladness
. More like
stoic fortitude.

Jacob dropped into the chair opposite his
cousin. "How will you explain my presence, and your lack of one, to
the lady?"

"I'll not explain anything." Langley looked
surprised to be asked such a question. Of course he did. After all,
he was the Duke of Langley and answered to no one below the Regent.
"Lady Eleanore is quite accommodating. She will not mind your
presence."

Accommodating! His cousin truly didn't know
his betrothed well.

Jacob barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
He very much doubted she wouldn't be bothered. He had never been
her favorite person, something he could only be glad for. After the
Hastings' ball, she was bound to think of him even less fondly,
which was just what he intended. Lord knew what he would do if she
turned those brilliant blue eyes upon him and smiled with any
degree of intimacy.

"Remind me why your man of business cannot
handle this?"

"Eleanore dislikes him, and I have no wish to
see her unhappy. Apparently the man made an unfortunate remark in
her presence about one of the upper maids, and she has refused to
be in the same room as him ever since."