Dusk With a Dangerous Duke (11 page)

Then he would have politely declined her request.

She did not understand that the vow he made extended beyond her protection. His honor and sense of duty was bound to the contract—as was the lady herself.

In time, Grace would understand her decision to travel to London only hurled them to the inevitable.

She would marry him.

Grace deliberately crossed her eyes, pulling him away from his thoughts. “You were content to never inquire about me to see what became of the girl you were entrusted with. Now you are staring at me as if you can somehow recover those lost years. It is a futile endeavor.”

“True.” Hunter had visited Frethwell Hall, but it was obvious no one had told her. He had regrets, but he had kept his promise to his grandmother. Lady Grace had been raised according to her station in life, and had never lacked for anything. His only failing as far as he was concerned was that he had selfishly put aside too many years for himself.

“Then what do you propose we do?” she demanded, growing frustrated by his silence.

Now that he had met her, there was only one thing he could do to make amends for his absence and keep his honor intact.

“I propose we get married.”

*   *   *

“No,” she said, her soft denial was reinforced with an iron will. How many years had she longed to hear him speak those very words?

Too many.

Grace had plotted her own course. With Porter’s assistance, she would figure out a way to free both herself and Huntsley.

Instead of anger, he sat back in his chair. He clasped his large hands together as his fingers tapped in a contemplative gesture.

“Why?”

Surprised by the question, she made a wordless sputtering noise. “Why? I can give you nineteen reasons, Your Grace. Let me ask you—how many years would I have continued to wait if there wasn’t a stipulation in that awful contract that we had to be wedded by my twenty-first birthday?”

He remained silent.

“I thought so,” she said, her right hand curling into a fist. She had never struck anyone in her life, but she might make an exception for this arrogant man. “If you had your way, I would still be waiting for you at Frethwell Hall. Here and now. Tomorrow. Next year, and the years that followed.”

His lips twitched. “Impossible. You must have missed the part where I am to get you with child within eighteen months of the marriage. My grandmother liked to have her way, and she was a stickler for details.”

Grace realized her mouth had fallen open and swiftly closed it. Why had no one pointed out that particular clause? Of course he would require an heir from her. She just had not expected to become a brood mare so quickly. How long would it take for him to get her with child? She could be sent back to Frethwell Hall weeks after their marriage.

“Grace,” he said, oblivious to her tumultuous thoughts. “It was never my intention to allow so many years to pass without visiting you. I realize this is not the most auspicious beginning, but I have faith we can set things right. You are not quite one-and-twenty, and I am prepared to honor my end of the bargain. We will marry as soon as I can obtain a special license and—”

“No.”

It took a few seconds for her rejection to register on his face. Grace concluded that not many people refused the duke. “I beg your pardon.”

“Was I not succinct?” she asked, wiggling her toes and recalling that she was barefoot. “Or perhaps I spoke too softly.”

“No, I heard you,” he said in clipped tones. “I just expect you to look me in the eye when you are tossing away an arrangement that was created for your benefit.”

To prove that she not intimidated by his presence, she lifted her eyes until she was staring into his amber gaze. The brilliant color blazed like twin suns. “Let’s not forget that you have benefited from this arrangement as well. Porter has told me that your investments have made us both very rich, and no doubt your liberties with my assets gave you certain advantages over the years.”

“It is kind of you to acknowledge that I have made you very wealthy. Most orphans would be grateful to be called an heiress.”

What sort of man could be cruel enough to remind her that she was all alone in this world? “I also happen to be the daughter of a duke,” she said evenly. “Nor am I a fool, Your Grace. I will soon be of age, and will no longer require you to be my guardian. The duty did not suit you, and I, for one, am grateful it has come to an end.”

Seconds later he had her pinned in place by blocking any means to escape with his muscular arms. He had moved so swiftly, she could not fathom how he had done it.

“I am much more than your guardian, Lady Grace,” he said, his close proximity forcing her to tip her head back so she could meet his furious gaze. “I am your husband.”

“No yet,” she said triumphantly. “Not ever, if I have a say about it.”

“The only words I require from you are
yes
and
I do,
” he purred, his body filling her vision. The subtle scent of man with the hint of lavender filled her nose.

“Words you may hear often from your servants and mistresses, but you will not hear them from me.”

She placed her palms against his chest. Even through the layers of his evening coat, waistcoat, and linen shirt, she could feel the heat of his body. It struck her that this was the first time she had truly touched him, and the intimacy of the gesture unsettled her. “If you are the gentleman you are purported to be, you will step away and leave this house.” She pushed against his chest, but it was as solid as a wall.

The duke leaned closer. “Or else, what?”

“Or else, I will call for Rosemary,” she replied, frantically grasping for the first weapon that came to mind. His nearness was scattering her wits. “She will wake the rest of the staff, or summon the watch. I do not care if she wakes everyone in this square. As much as I have enjoyed this little visit, you have overstayed your welcome and I wish for you to leave.”

His lips were scant inches from hers. “Perhaps I could persuade you to change your mind.”

Was he planning to kiss her until she begged him to stay?

Grace felt her face growing hot at the thought.

“You have had nineteen years to sway me, Your Grace,” she said in a quavering voice. “And you have succeeded. I no longer desire to marry you, and I want you to leave.”

She held her breath as she awaited his reply.

“Very well.” The Duke of Huntsley surprised her by yielding to her demand. He straightened and adjusted his sleeves. “I can see that I should have scrutinized the various governesses and tutors that Porter employed over the years. Clearly, respect, gratitude, and obedience were stricken from your lessons.”

“Respect and gratitude are not summoned on command, Your Grace. They are earned. As for obedience—” She daintily shrugged. “I have never been particularly obedient. Just view it as one more reason why you wish to tear up this marriage contract as eagerly as I do.”

She expected the duke to be difficult. Perhaps even utter a few threats to ruin any thought of sleep. Instead he chuckled and shook his head. “You are not what I expected, Lady Grace.”

“Neither are you.”

He grimaced, but accepted the insult, knowing it was deserved. “Before I depart under your Rosemary’s watchful eye, I feel it necessary to tell you a few things about myself.”

“I know enough.”

“No, my lady, you don’t.” He sobered, and she felt the full impact of his amber gaze. “I gave my word to your grandfather and my grandmother that I would marry you when you came of age.”

“Both of them died a long time ago. No one will think less of you for disappearing for a few more weeks. By then, I will be twenty-one and the contract will no longer be a concern.”

“
I
will think less of me,” he said, opening the door. Just beyond the doorway, Rosemary scurried out of sight. “I gave my word and we will adhere to the terms, even if we find the situation unpalatable.”

Grace chased after him. “But—”

He paused, waiting for Rosemary to rush forward and open the door. Grace halted to maintain a safe distance between them.

“One more thing. I suggest you begin to think of me less as your benevolent guardian, and more as your husband. You will discover I will be more attentive in this new stage of our relationship.” He inclined his head. “Sleep well, Duchess.”

The Duke of Huntsley departed, leaving both women to stare speechlessly as he disappeared into the night

Chapter Ten

Grace wondered if she would ever get used to town life.

London never seemed to sleep. Throughout the night, she could hear the sounds of horses pulling their varying conveyances up and down the street. The robust voices of the coachmen, pedestrians, and the watchman drifted up to her window. After Hunter’s visit it had taken her hours to drift off to sleep. When she did, Grace was startled out of her restless sleep by a woman’s shriek. She slipped out of bed and warily approached the window. The cry of distress quickly dissolved into throaty giggles as the woman’s two male companions escorted her down the street and away from her curious gaze.

By the time Rosemary entered the bedchamber to wake her, Grace felt as if she had only been asleep for a few hours. Despite this, the excitement of London had yet to diminish. As unpleasant as last evening had been, encountering Hunter had been necessary. It had spurred her to call on Mr. Porter. Regrettably he had not been in his office. His rude assistant told her that she needed an appointment and there were no exceptions to the rule. Disheartened by this news, she went ahead and scheduled a meeting for the following week.

To cheer her up, Rosemary suggested that they visit Covent Gardens before they headed back to the town house they were renting for some tea.

“I hear they have pineapples,” Rosemary said enthusiastically.

Grace smiled, since pineapples were not often served at Frethwell. “If so, then we should buy one. Or two, if you wish.”

“I vow I could eat a dozen in a week,” the woman responded, chuckling at the outlandish boast. “Just hold on to your reticule. There are pickpockets and cheats all around us.”

Grace shyly nodded to two ladies who passed by them close enough to brush her elbow. “Your confidence in your fellow man astounds me.”

Rosemary frowned at a well-dressed man who stepped in front of her. “If you please, my good man. I have my lady to see to without you barring my way.” A few steps later, she caught up to Grace. “Well, my dear, I am too poor to afford to be confident. Besides, you have enough in you for both of us.”

“Oh, you do not fool me, Miss Shaw,” Grace said, her eyes widening as she noticed a man with a small monkey on his shoulder. “I seem to recall the year three governesses declared me too stubborn to instruct and departed with very little notice. You said—”

“The uppity chits held no challenge for an intellectual lady,” the woman finished, her expression revealing it was a fond memory for her as well.

“See? Ever the optimist.” Grace turned left and headed for the man with the monkey.

“I thought we were picking up a pineapple?”

“A brief diversion,” she said over her shoulder, confident Rosemary would follow. “My, my … what a handsome beast you are,” she praised, utterly enchanted with the little monkey.

*   *   *

Hunter had just finished paying for several bouquets of flowers when the bemusing observation reached his ears. At first, he thought the woman was speaking to him, but a quick glance caused him to do a double take as he realized that he knew the lady. Nor was he pleased to see her wandering about Covent Garden without a proper escort. As he contemplated his next moves, Lady Grace was unaware that she was being observed. Her attention was centered on the elderly gentleman and his exotic pet.

The florist handed Hunter two bouquets wrapped in paper to protect the delicate petals. “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

“No, these will suffice, Allie,” he said, laying the bundles over his arm. He and his servants had been conducting business with the middle-aged woman for more than ten years.

“Courting only two ladies this week?” Her smile revealed a missing bottom tooth. “They must be wearing you down.”

“Not a chance.” He leaned over and kissed her on a cheek weathered by age and sun. “I’m just waiting for you to get tired of that old husband of yours.”

“Go on with ye.” She chuckled and waved him off, delighted by his teasing. “I don’t melt as effortlessly as those hothouse blooms you fancy gents prefer.”

“Let me know if you want me to change your mind, Allie.”

Hunter cast a curious eye toward Lady Grace as she chatted with the old gentleman. She looked like a hothouse bloom cast in a field of weeds. From his position, he noted that she had one servant at her side. It wasn’t enough for the future Duchess of Huntsley. Lady Grace should be surrounded by a dozen servants.

Attired in a white round dress of India muslin that was decorated with multiple rows of flounces at the bottom of the skirt, she wore an open spencer fashioned from rose-lavender-colored satin. Braided cording drew the observer’s eye to her shoulders and the soft curves of her breasts.

He had planned to call on Saint and Catherine this afternoon. Afterward, he was planning to surprise Vane’s mother with a brief visit so he could apologize for his boorish behavior last evening. He had no time for courtship, but he had no intention of leaving her alone. Hunter strolled toward her.

The high emotions of last evening had not allowed him to appreciate Lady Grace’s beauty. His earlier assessments were faint praise. The young lady was truly exquisite. Green eyes, unblemished fair skin that glowed with vitality, a nose and chin that could not be improved upon by the greatest sculptors of the world, and limbs that moved as gracefully as a dancer’s. In the sunlight, the curls that were nestled beneath her bonnet—white satin trimmed with rose-lavender and white feathers—gleamed like gold threads. She represented everything pure and innocent, while he had spent their time apart immersing himself in debauchery.

He had been right to stay away from her. Otherwise, he might have been tempted to turn her into a woman before nature had finished molding her into the glorious creature she had become.