What a Devilish Duke Desires (10 page)

“You had every right to be angry,” he said.

“Shall we take our tea to the sofa where the light is better?” Lucy said.

After they sat on the sofa, he raked the coals and joined them afterward.

“How are your mother and cousins?” Mrs. Longmore asked.

“They are all quite well. I recently dined with them on the occasion of my thirty-first birthday.”

“I hope you had a nice celebration,” Lucy said.

“Indeed, I received a gift from my mother. A silver saver for my manservant to bring my mail to me.”

Lucy noticed mischief lurking in his eyes. “I suspect there is more to this story.”

“You would be correct,” Granfield said. “As you might have guessed, I lack all toplofty ducal traits, much to my mother’s distress. However, I did not wish to disappoint her, so I thanked her profusely for the saver. About this time, I noticed that my faithful companion Bandit was slobbering over his bones on the new carpet. Since he had damaged one carpet already, I decided Bandit needed a receptacle for his bones. I cast my eye about and what did I see?”

Lucy laughed. “The silver saver?”

“You are correct,” he said.

“You gave it to your dog?” Mrs. Longmore said in an astounded voice.

“Oh yes. My valet Barlow, who is typically quite stoic, actually winced. For him this is akin to an attack of the vapors.”

Grandmama’s lips twitched. “I marked you as a charmer and now I must add rogue as well.”

“I rather hoped to elicit a chuckle from Barlow,” he said, “but thus far, I have failed in my endeavors to make the man laugh. Never fear. I am quite determined to elicit a chuckle from him.”

“You are awful,” Lucy said, smiling.

“You will not be surprised to learn I was especially mischievous as a boy. My friend Colin and I spent every summer at Havenwood. We bathed in mud, tried to ride Uncle Hugh’s pigs, and stole biscuits from the kitchen. My uncle Hugh taught us to fish and ride, but when we were naughty, he made us muck out the pigpens. There are reasons I don’t eat bacon.”

Lucy’s shoulders shook with laughter. She set her dish of tea aside. “Did you meet your friend Colin at school?”

“Yes, at Eton when I was eight years old. We’re practically brothers. I recently learned he will be a father soon. It’s hard to believe.”

Grandmama sat up with a start. “Oh my, I beg your pardon. I must have dozed off.”

Granfield rose. “I do beg your pardon,” he said. “I did not mean to overstay my welcome. If you wish, I will bank the fire for you.”

“Thank you,” Grandmama said. “You need not rush. If you will excuse me, I will retire now. Lucy, be sure to secure the bolt when Granfield departs.”

“I will, Grandmama.”

He took off his coat and went to tend the fire. His wide shoulders needed no padding. When he rose and dusted his hands, she noted his superior height once again. In his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, she could discern the way his waist tapered.

He joined her on the sofa and laid his arm across the top of it. “Tired?” he asked.

“No.” She was too aware of him. In the shadowy room, she could not see his bright blue eyes, but the soft sound of his breathing mingled with hers. The tension between them crackled all around her. A long moment suspended. Her senses were heightened, and her breasts felt heavier for some odd reason. She discerned the scent of wintergreen soap and something else—something masculine and irresistible. Something unique to him.

He leaned closer, and she could feel the whisper of his breath on her lips. “From the first moment we met, I could not get you out of my head.”

His words made her feel giddy, but she held back, because she was still a little wary. “I am undoubtedly the first woman to threaten you with a knife.”

He grinned. “Indeed you are. Now that you are unarmed, perhaps we could be friends.”

“We will shake on it,” she said, offering her hand.

He took her hand and turned her wrist, palm up. He looked up at her beneath his dark lashes, and then he kissed the tender underside of her wrist. When he touched his tongue to the pulse point, her breath shuddered out of her. She thought she might melt from the heat in his seductive gaze.

“I’d better go,” he said. There was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he was aware of exactly how he’d affected her.

When she inhaled on a shaky breath, he helped her to rise. She walked with him to the door as if she were enveloped in a fog.

He halted and gazed into her eyes. Then he drew her in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips. His mouth moved over hers and his hand slipped down the curve of her spine. Heat and longing surged inside her. He wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel the hard, unyielding muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs as he pressed her against him.

“Forgive me in advance,” he said.

“For what?” she whispered.

He kissed her gently once more, and then he drew his tongue along the seam of her mouth. Her lips parted and then his tongue was in her mouth, tasting her while his hands slid down her spine and to her bottom. He pulled her flush against him, and she could feel his hard body. She was breathing faster and everything inside of her was on fire for him. God help her, she wanted his hands all over her.

He broke the kiss, and she was aware that his breathing had quickened as well.

When he released her, he said, “Good night, sweet Lucy.”

Her limbs trembled a little as he strode out into the night, leaving her to wonder if he knew it was her first kiss.

Wednesday afternoon, one week later

H
arry spent much of the day in dull meetings with his solicitor. When he arrived home, he intended to deal with more paperwork, but he discovered four missives from his mother.

He opened the first one and sighed.

He snorted. “That’s unlikely,” he muttered, and opened the next one.

Mrs. Norcliffe was well known for her imperious demands, but he’d long ago learned it was best to ignore her when she got a bee in her bonnet. Harry set it aside and broke the seal on the last one.

No one, including his meddling mother, ordered him about.

Harry took out a sheet of paper and dipped his pen in the inkwell.

Harry sanded the missive and sealed it with wax. Then he rang the bell. Barlow covered a yawn and trudged into the parlor.

“Barlow, please deliver this missive to Mrs. Norcliffe’s town house in Grosvenor Square.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Shall I wait for a reply?”

“Certainly not. It will only result in additional trips to my mother’s abode.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Harry decided his mother needed a lesson in patience. “Barlow, do take the scenic route to Grosvenor Square. Be sure to admire the budding leaves and wildflowers.”

Barlow, to his credit, did not blink an eye. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“After you deliver the message, you may take an impromptu holiday. You will have earned it from all the exercise today.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I shall take advantage of your offer.”

Harry considered taking Bandit to the park in hopes of seeing Lucy, but he really needed to attend to his correspondence. He supposed he’d better hire a secretary soon, as he’d begun to fall behind on the paperwork. That meant he’d have to interview candidates, and when would he find time for that?

Bandit’s nails clicked on the marble. He trotted over to Harry with a bone in his mouth and dropped it on the floor. Harry grinned. “For me? Why thank you, Bandit, but I find bones don’t agree with my digestion.”

Bandit lay down on the cool marble and chewed his bone.

A rap sounded at the door. Harry had half a mind to ignore it, as he was certain his mother had sent another blasted missive. With a gusty sigh, he strode to the door and opened it. “Bell, come in.”

His friend hung his hat and greatcoat on the pegs in the foyer.

“Have a seat,” Harry said.

Bell stretched out his legs and surveyed the parlor. “You’ve spruced the place up.”

“Maid service, mostly for the copious dog hair. Speaking of service, I’m in the market for a secretary. Know of anyone?”

“I’ll ask my secretary for a recommendation.”

“Brandy?” Harry said.

“Hell, yes. Have you got a cheroot?”

He opened a silver case and offered one to his friend. They lit them from the lantern on his desk.

Bell inhaled and blew out a smoke ring. “It’s been too long since I’ve had one.”

“Why?” Harry said.

Bell looked chagrinned. “Laura threatened to kick me out of bed if I ever came in stinking of smoke again.”

Harry guffawed. “Tell her I blew smoke on you.”

“She won’t believe it.”

Harry flicked an ash in a tray. “I suspect you’re here for a reason.”

Bell nodded. “According to Laura, something is in the wind. Apparently there has been quite a bit of speculation about the opening of Almack’s tonight. The patronesses have planned something unusual.”

Harry sipped his brandy. “What can that have to do with me? It’s not as if I’m planning to attend.”

Bell inhaled and blew out a smoke ring. “You might wish to reconsider.”

“Why?”

“This may come as a shock, but your mother is one of the patronesses now.”

Harry scowled. “Surely not.”

“Sorry, old boy. Laura confirmed it. I thought you ought to know.”

“No wonder my mother kept sending me messages to escort her tonight. I intended to ignore her.”

“Old boy, you might want to be on hand. Something is definitely afoot.”

Wednesday, early evening

Lucy returned home to eat a quick dinner with Grandmama before reporting for her duties at Almack’s.

“I hope you will have a chance to watch the dancers,” Grandmama said.

“I’m not counting on it,” Lucy said. The wages were low, but she figured every coin she saved would go toward her dance studio fund.

“Speaking of dancing, that servant came again today,” Grandmama said.

Lucy frowned. “Which one?”

“The one who works for Mrs. Norcliffe. She’s quite demanding and insists upon you instructing dance at her home in Grosvenor Square next week on Tuesday at ten o’clock. I told her servant he would have to return on the morrow for your answer.”

Lucy sighed. “Tell him I will instruct for Mrs. Norcliffe next week.”

“Dearest, you’re teaching dance to Mrs. Vernon’s girls and the Chaffin twins as well this week. Every day you are cleaning at the Albany. I worry you will fall ill.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Grandmama. I must take advantage of as many opportunities as possible during the spring season. When the ton retreats later in the year, requests for my dancing instruction will diminish. It’s important that I work as hard as possible now to ensure we have plenty of money saved.” She finished her tea. “Now I must hurry,” she said, donning her cloak. “I can’t be late my first night at Almack’s.”

“Good luck,” Grandmama said. “Please be careful while walking home.”

“I will,” she said.

Harry stared grudgingly out the window while his cousins spoke quietly. He’d always detested the highbrow patronesses and their schemes.

“This is a smart carriage, Harry,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Perfect for a duke.”

He wished she wouldn’t make such a to-do about his title. All he cared about were his wonderful memories of summers he and Colin had spent with Uncle Hugh. His uncle had taught him and Colin how to care for the horses and the pigs. He would never forget those summers he’d spent fishing, riding, and practicing archery. Damn, he’d give anything for one more summer with Uncle Hugh.

Mina’s voice interrupted his reverie. “Thank you for taking us up in your new carriage.”

“You’re welcome.” He was fond of his cousins. They were sweet girls who tolerated his mother’s overbearing ways far better than he did.

Helena and Amelia looked at each other and then at Harry.

“You do know you’re the catch of the season, do you not?” Amelia said.

Harry scowled. “What?”

Mina laughed. “I told you he had no idea, Amelia.”

“Well, it is to be expected, now that he has inherited the dukedom,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I will assist you in finding a bride, Harry.”

He narrowed his eyes. “When I’m ready, I’ll find my own bride.”

“I knew you would say that,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “You’ll end up like your bachelor uncle, God rest his soul, if I do not insist.”

“First of all, I’m proud to follow in Uncle Hugh’s footsteps. Second, do not make demands.”

Mrs. Norcliffe raised her quizzing glass to her eye. “Marriage is your responsibility, and do not take that tone with me.”

“Enough,” Harry said tersely.

His cousins grew silent. The only sound for several minutes was the clop of the horses’ hooves and the jangle of the harness.

“Well,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I’m only trying to help.”

“I neither want nor need it.” He’d spoken harshly, but he knew from experience it was the only way to rein in his mother.

The carriage moved forward a few feet and stopped. Harry frowned. While he’d expected to wait in a long queue, the carriages ahead didn’t seem to be moving. He looked out the window and was stunned to see a crowd of the lower orders gawking at the beau monde as they made their way to the building. “Something is wrong,” Harry said. “I’m off to check out the situation.”

“Harry, wait,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

“I’ll return. Just stay seated,” he said, climbing out.

His breath frosted as he strode along. To his amazement, dozens of street vendors were selling hot apples, cherries, and pies near the building. One man had set up numerous bottles on a barrel.

Harry saw Pembroke and hailed him. “What the devil is all this about?”

Pembroke shrugged. “There’s quite a commotion. See that street vendor? He’s filling flasks.”

“You jest,” Harry said. “The devil. Northcott is swigging it.”

“It’s probably rotgut gin,” Pembroke said.

“Northcott will be sorry on the morrow.”

“Most of us are the day after,” Pembroke said. “I’m headed inside. And you?”

He shook his head. “No, I promised to collect my family after matters settled.”

Pembroke shrugged. “You might as well fetch your family. I don’t think this street party will end anytime soon.”

Pembroke disappeared among the crème de la crème sweeping toward the entrance.

A few minutes later, Castelle trudged out of the building. “Bloody hell, I need a drink.”

“Careful, I’ve heard it’s rotgut gin,” Harry said.

Castelle pulled out a flask. “I brought my own. Care for a little fortification?”

“No thanks. I’m surprised you’re here,” Harry said.

“My female relatives turned on the waterworks. It will be the last time,” Castelle grumbled, and wandered away.

A ragged man struck up a tune on a fiddle. Several women and men started dancing in the street. Their boisterous laughter rang out.

Someone clapped Harry’s shoulder. He turned to find Colin and his wife, Angeline. “I’m glad to see you both,” Harry said. “The place has turned into a circus.”

Colin frowned. “Look at the folks staring at us. I feel like one of the animals at the Royal Menagerie.”

Angeline looked at her husband and said, “Go ahead, growl.”

He whispered something in her ear, making her laugh.

“Have you seen Bellingham?” Harry asked.

“No, but he might have arrived already. It’s impossible to tell in this crush.”

“My mother and cousins are stuck in the carriage several blocks away,” Harry said. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Angeline’s mouth twitched. “If the rumors are correct, the patronesses planned something special tonight. Gossip is swirling in the scandal sheets.”

Harry nodded. “So I heard from Bell earlier. I’d better go collect my family.”

“We’ll see you inside,” Colin said, and escorted Angeline through the doors.

Like every other gentleman forced to attend Almack’s tonight, Harry wore the required black knee breeches. He’d drunk two glasses of brandy earlier, but alas, he hadn’t gotten even remotely foxed. The patronesses did not approve of liquor, but many of the gents were weaving up the steps, evidence they’d drowned their misery in advance.

Harry’s nose and cheeks grew cold as he strode to his carriage. He assisted his cousins and offered his arm to his mother.

“There is so much excitement tonight,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I daresay tonight will be talked about for ages.”

Her words made him even more suspicious. He knew his mother was somehow involved, but even she couldn’t stir up this crowd by herself. All of the patronesses must have been tangled up in this scheme.

“You are uncharacteristically silent,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Are you not looking forward to this evening?”

“I have no words for my feelings.” None that he would utter in her presence at any rate. Once he escorted his family members inside, he would head straight for the gaming room, and he would not poke his head out until the clock struck midnight.

After entering, Mrs. Norcliffe took her place on the dais with the other patronesses. The orchestra stood poised high above in a balcony. Almack’s was an enormous place. The ballroom was supposedly one hundred feet long, and he believed it. There were gilt columns, mirrors, and even gas lighting. The number of guests swelled as Mr. Wilson, the master of ceremonies, stood by the doors to welcome everyone.

Harry meant to head straight to the gaming room, but Mina slid her hand through his arm. “Stay. Mama has a surprise.”

The orchestra played a short introductory piece. Voices in the cavernous ballroom gradually hushed.

Lady Jersey stepped forward. “Please help us welcome our newest and most esteemed patroness, Mrs. Norcliffe.”

Applause resounded. Harry noticed the bright flush on his mother’s face. She was basking in her new role.

Mrs. Norcliffe clasped her hands and addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are introducing something new to Almack’s.”

The back of Harry’s neck prickled. What did she have up her puffed sleeve?

“We have a new program,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “The patronesses and I welcome you to the first annual Almack’s dancing competition.”

Hundreds of guests gasped. One young lady burst into tears and had to be led to a chair where her mother passed a vinaigrette beneath her nose.

Bellingham and his petite wife joined Harry.

“Has your mother been nipping from the sherry bottle?” Bell asked.

Lady Bellingham frowned at her husband. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly legitimate reason.”

Harry groaned. “I should put a stop to it.”

“No, you’ll only make matters worse,” Lady Bellingham said.

Harry shook his head. “How much worse could it get?”