A Solitary Duke Page 5

She looked at him trying to look disapproving and failing miserably. ‘Your grace, that is the second time tonight that you’ve used intemperate language. Kindly desist, it is most disrespectful to me.’

  His expression changed and instead of taking her into the ballroom she found herself in a secluded corner, hidden from sight by a large pedestal upon which was an even larger arrangement of hothouse flowers. The room for card players and the tea room were within view but no one in those places could hear their conversation.

  ‘I promised to tell you why I didn’t give you my true name and had temporarily forgotten. After our meeting on the beach I took an immediate dislike to you, that is having first mistaken you for a governess. To my shame I thought if you knew who I was you might…’

  ‘That I might think I had been compromised?’

  ‘Exactly so. I am mortally ashamed of my behaviour on our second meeting. I honestly forgot that I was unclothed until it was too late.’

  ‘I thought as much. However, I did not appreciate being laughed at for leaving at such speed.’

  ‘Yet, Miss Armitage, you turned and waved to me. That was quite magnificent. No, allow me to finish. I do believe that I must speak to Lord Stanfield and ask if I might be permitted to make you an offer but shall not do so if you really do not wish me to.’

  ‘They would insist that I accept, and I honestly believe that a marriage forced upon a couple in that way can never be successful. I take care of my siblings, from choice, I hasten to add, and have no wish to abandon my duty. I’m curious as to how my father knew at once that you were a duke when you introduced yourself as Rochester.’

  ‘There are not that many of us in the country. He would have heard the name before. He is obviously an intelligent man and put the facts together and came up with the correct answer. My wife died in childbed and I decided then I’d put no other woman in that position, would only marry again to a young widow with children so I could be confident producing my heir would not kill her.’

  He spoke sincerely and she understood in that moment what a sacrifice he was prepared to make in order to do the honourable thing.

  ‘I applaud your sentiments, your grace. I think, in the circumstances, it would be better if we didn’t dance together again. I shall rejoin to my family and you must grit your teeth and dance with the young lady her grace has made such an effort to bring to your attention.

  ‘As she’s not a suitable bride for you I’m sure you will have no difficulty making your feelings clear. Just speak to her the way you spoke to me the other day and she will run screaming in the opposite direction.’

  His deep, dark chuckle sent tingles up and down her spine. They had been having the most unsuitable conversation and if she didn’t leave him immediately, she might say something quite disgraceful.

  ‘You are a breath of fresh air, my dear, and I wish things were otherwise between us.’

  The words tumbled unbidden from her lips. She was infamous for speaking out loud that which would be much better kept in her head. ‘I could find myself an elderly husband, produce a hatful of children and then smother him with a pillow. Would I be acceptable then?’

  His sudden bark of laughter turned several heads in their direction. She was laughing herself as she ran away not allowing him time to answer.

  Her parents were just returning from the dancefloor and hadn’t noticed her absence. ‘Such a shame that his grace stepped on your gown, my love, but I see it’s been repaired,’ Mama said.

  ‘Oh dear, I suppose I’ll have to dance with someone else now. Don’t I have to be introduced before I can stand up with a gentleman?’

  ‘That will be no problem, Lucy, as I shall waylay them first and sift out those not acceptable to me. Then I’ll bring the gentleman I select over and introduce you to him myself.’

  Papa moved swiftly to intercept the half a dozen eager young men heading her way. She couldn’t hear what was said as they were too far away but a few minutes later he was back bringing only two of them.

  ‘Sir Jonathan Danbury, allow me to introduce you to my eldest daughter, Miss Lucy Armitage.’

  She curtsied to the handsome young man. He was the same height as her, had regular features, but fair hair and she really much preferred a darker gentleman.

  *

  Edwin did as Miss Armitage advised and made his way back to his parent and her unwelcome friends. Word had obviously spread about his attendance at this event and the other guests nodded, smiled, curtsied and bowed in a sycophantic way that grated.

  He stopped in front of the dowager duchess and nodded stiffly at her and her crony. He nodded to the girl. ‘I am Rochester. Would you care to dance with me?’

  The girl looked apprehensive, glanced nervously at her mother who gestured that the invitation be accepted. ‘Thank you, your grace, I should be honoured to stand up with you.’

  His expression softened. The poor child had as little inclination to dance with him as he had to dance with her. This time the other couples stood aside and gave him no alternative but to take the head of the set.

  Whilst they waited for the musicians to begin playing, for the others wishing to dance to arrange themselves, he smiled down at her. ‘I’ve yet to know your name. Don’t look so apprehensive, I might look fearsome but I don’t bite.’ He expected her to smile, to relax a little, but she took his words at face value and looked even more scared if that were possible.

  ‘Your name, if you please.’ He spoke quietly but firmly and it had the desired result. Kindness obviously wouldn’t work in this situation.

  ‘I beg your pardon, your grace. I am Lady Catherine.’

  ‘Then, my lady, I will make myself perfectly plain. Whatever our parents might think to the contrary, I have no interest in becoming leg-shackled to you or anybody else. You are a delightful young lady and will make another gentleman a splendid bride – but do not expect an offer from me.’

  Finally, she managed a tremulous smile. ‘Thank you for telling me, your grace, it’s a great relief to me. I have my heart set on someone else, you see, but would be forced to accept if you wished to marry me.’

  The music started and their brief conversation ended. In between the skipping, hopping and clapping he attempted to hold a conversation with her but she was tongue-tied and could do no more than nod or answer yes or no. He abandoned the attempt and was as happy as she when he could hand her with good grace back to her mother.

  He smiled warmly at the girl, nodded to the older women. ‘I am taking my leave, ma’am, I shall send the carriage back for you.’

  Allowing no opportunity for argument he shouldered his way through the crush, down the stairs and snapped his fingers at a lurking footman. The carriage was outside in record time. It was yet light, and would be for a further hour or two.

  ‘Return and wait for her grace,’ he instructed the coachman before making his way inside.

  After changing into something more comfortable he headed for the study and poured himself a generous measure of brandy. He carried this to the window, which was open, and ducked through and dropped to the grass outside without spilling a drop.

  There was a rustic wooden bench surrounded by honeysuckle and roses with a pleasing view of the sea and he made his way to it. He sat and stretched out his legs, took a sip of the amber liquid, and sighed.

  He had learned a salutary lesson about his irascible behaviour. His staff were afraid of him as was that poor girl. He prided himself on being approachable, fair and easy to live with but since Sarah’s death he had become morose and bad-tempered. He would do better in future.

  It had taken a handful of meetings with Miss Armitage – no – in future she would be Lucy in his thoughts – to change things. She was an extraordinary girl, unique, and every moment he spent with her he was invigorated.

  God dammit to hell! The brandy slopped from the glass as he jerked upright. How could that have happened so quickly? He had inexplicably fallen neck over crop in love with her. If he could per
suade her to marry him then he would be the happiest fellow alive.

  His hands clenched and the glass broke beneath his fingers. He ignored the sharp pain as the glass dug into his palm. His head was filled with an image of Sarah dying in his arms, of the tiny, still form of his dead son and he knew that because he loved her, he’d never risk putting Lucy in that danger.

  That she found him intriguing, attractive even, there was no doubt, but so far he was sure she hadn’t developed strong feelings for him. He would send his parent back to the Dower House tomorrow and then visit the Gilbert family. That way there could be no danger of him inadvertently meeting Lucy and revealing his feelings for her.

  He looked ruefully at his mangled hand. There were pieces of glass embedded in the flesh. His valet had more stitching to do. He removed the shards, ripped off his stock and tied it tightly around the injury.

  ‘There you are, your grace, a nice neat job if I say so myself.’

  ‘Thank you, Rogers, I’ll not need you again tonight. I’m going to London tomorrow morning so have what I shall need ready first thing.’

  ‘Will we be staying long in Town?’

  ‘I intend to travel by the sailing-packet. It will be a novel experience for both of us. Therefore, pack only what you can carry.’

  His next task was to speak to the pleasant, long suffering woman who took care of his mother. He waited in the drawing room for her.

  She curtsied. ‘You wish to see me, your grace?’

  ‘You will pack her grace’s trunks tonight ready for departure immediately after breakfast. I shall be closing the house.’

  ‘Very well, your grace, I shall see to it at once.’

  Satisfied he had things in place for the morrow he went in search of another stiff drink. He was not one to drown his sorrows, hadn’t descended into inebriation after Sarah had passed, but for some reason the thought that he could never be with the woman he loved to distraction was affecting him in a way he hadn’t believed possible.

  He was on his third glass of brandy, this time slumped in a chair in his study, when he recalled there was a convention that a gentleman who had danced with a lady should make a morning call the following day. He yawned and half-smiled in the semi-darkness.

  He was going to offend two mamas but was quite certain that both of the girls in question would be pleased if he didn’t appear in their drawing room to drink tea and eat almond biscuits. He’d never seen the point of morning calls and had made a point of absenting himself when Sarah was at home.

  He heard his parent clatter up the stairs but was safe in his own sanctuary. He finished the decanter and walked a trifle unsteadily through the house which was still fully illuminated despite the lateness of the hour. He had dismissed Rogers, but his admirable valet was waiting to help him disrobe. If he hadn’t been Edwin was quite prepared to sleep fully clothed – including boots – on the comforter.

  He awoke early, pleasantly surprised he had no ill effects from his overindulgence. He glanced at the overmantel clock and saw it was not yet five. Ample time for a swim to clear his head before he departed after breakfast.

  The day didn’t seem quite as bright as usual, the prospect of a swim not as appealing as it should be. It was as if everything was somehow muted – even the trees, the birdsong, the sunshine was less bright. He must get used to this as he had no intention of ever speaking to his love. She would find herself a more suitable husband and he must just accept it.

  As always, he put on only fabric breeches, calfskin became damnably difficult to remove when wet, and a shirt. He padded barefoot through the silent house and out through the side door which, on his instructions, was always open. His injured hand would come to no harm in saltwater but would need re-dressing when he was back.

  It was Othello’s turn to swim. Somehow the stallion sensed his arrival and was already stamping and kicking in his stall. He didn’t expect the grooms to be up at this time to attend to him. All he had to do was attach a rope to the horse’s halter and lead him out.

  He placed his hand on the animal’s withers and vaulted onto his back. ‘Right then, my boy, time for a swim. The tide will be high today which makes things easier.’

  Talking to his horse was quite ridiculous but the beast appeared to listen as his ears flicked back and forth in time to the words. He squeezed gently and clicked his tongue and they were off. Cantering across the springy turf bareback was exhilarating. He decided that in future he would never swim naked again although he preferred to do so that way.

  The horse plunged into the sea and was soon swimming strongly. After turning so that they were parallel to the coast Edwin slithered backwards and over his tail. He trod water for a few seconds allowing the horse to get ahead of him and then put his head down and powered through the water.

  Chapter Six

  Lucy had not found the ball as unpleasant as she’d expected, but she was happier to be going home than she had been travelling in the opposite direction. She had danced several times but not more than once with the same gentleman.

  His grace had obviously left early as the dowager and her friend looked decidedly prune-faced for the rest of the evening. The young lady, the only other person the duke had danced with, was in high demand as a partner and looked far more comfortable dancing with the less elevated members of the community than she had partnering him.

  She feigned sleep on the way home to avoid discussing the evening and yawned hugely and made her good nights immediately they got inside the house. They had left before the end as Mama had become fatigued.

  She listened at her open bedchamber window to the nightingales singing in the woods, the bark of the foxes, the hoots of the owls and was content with her lot. Tomorrow she would don her unusual wardrobe and take Bruno out for a gallop. She would avoid the beach as she had no wish to see that man in any way but fully clothed in future.

  She rather thought that few women ever saw their husbands the way she had seen him. If she ever got married it would have to be someone tall, broad-shouldered, with raven-black hair and the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen. He would also have to be intelligent, kind and make her laugh.

  Heat travelled from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. She had just listed the attributes she desired in her perfect partner and the description fitted a man she already knew. How could this be? Why had her feelings towards him changed so dramatically? Was it possible that she was falling in love with the duke?

  This would not do – this would not do at all. From this moment forward she would put aside these silly, romantical thoughts and concentrate on mundane matters. She was governess to her siblings, helpmate to her mother and beloved daughter to her father. They could not manage without her presence in the home. All thoughts of matrimony must be set aside and she must concentrate on her duty.

  She was up with the lark and out of the house dressed as a youth before anyone, even the kitchen maids, were about. The sun was still below the horizon and it wouldn’t be up for another hour at least. Riding at first light was a favourite pastime of hers as she would be accompanied by the dawn chorus, the air would be fresh, and she would have the world to herself.

  She had plaited her hair and dropped it down the back of her neck inside her shirt, waistcoat and jacket. In this way the cap fitted snugly, as did the twill breeches. Her own riding boots completed the ensemble and she defied anyone to be able to recognise her as a young lady dressed as she was.

  She was already friendly with the stallion and he made no objection to her tacking him up. Putting on a man’s saddle was far easier than manoeuvring a side-saddle as it was half the weight. Obediently he lowered his huge head to allow her to slip on his bridle. She was obliged to stand on an upturned bucket to do up the buckles.

  Bruno stood quietly by the mounting block whilst she swung herself aboard. She tightened the girth a further two holes, gathered the reins, and was ready to set off on her adventure.

  It only took a hundred yards or so
for her to be comfortable, for the horse to settle to her gentle touch, and now she was ready to travel at a faster pace than a collected trot. She’d been riding for a mile or two, jumping the occasional ditch and hedge, cantering down narrow paths and enjoying every minute of it.

  When she drew rein to look around, she realised she wasn’t altogether sure if she was still on the estate or had inadvertently wandered onto a neighbour’s land. More worryingly, she had no idea exactly where she was and was forced to own that she was completely lost.

  The sun rose in the sky in the east, that much she did know, but that really didn’t help her to identify her surroundings. It was imperative that she be home before she was seen and recognised. She was less confident her disguise would hold if it was someone she’d met before.

  For some reason an image of the duke flashed before her eyes. He would certainly not be impressed if he saw her dressed as she was. Not that it was any of his business, of course, how she behaved or what she wore. For some reason she didn’t wish him to disapprove of her.

  She stood in her stirrups, something she’d never done before as it wasn’t possible on a side-saddle, and from this vantage point was able to see, in the distance, the sparkle of sunshine on water. Of course, if she headed to the coast she could ride along the sand until she recognised a landmark and then could find her way home easily.

  Bruno needed no encouragement to gallop – he stretched his long nose forward and he travelled at such speed her hat was torn from her head, her braid escaped from its hiding place and before she could restrain it her hair was flying in a cloud about her shoulders.

  She was half-standing in her stirrups, crouched forward, loving every moment of the wild dash through the countryside. Jumping massive hedges and wide ditches was so much easier astride and at no time did she consider herself at risk.

  On reaching the sea, she slowed Bruno’s pace to a collected canter. She was still no clearer as to her actual whereabouts. She must have travelled much further than she’d thought to have become so hopelessly lost. She reined in abruptly after finding herself at the top of a cliff and not at sea level at all.