“Will you be staying until Twelfth Night, then?” he asked quietly.
Hearing the odd tone of his voice, she replied, “No. I should return home.”
He released a long sigh, of relief, no doubt. Now he wouldn’t be stuck with her in his home. Louisa wondered how the younger Harry would have reacted. Most likely, he would have been happy for the company and insisted she stay.
“How did you travel without telling your mother where you were going? I highly doubt she would have approved of you visiting me.”
“I suppose you could say I ran away.” She shrugged and took another sip of brandy. “I left and never told anyone where I was heading.”
“Your mother has no idea where you are or when you are returning? Good God, Louisa, she and your sisters must be sick with worry over you.”
She doubted they even missed her. The idea of remaining here sounded ideal. No mother fussing over Emma’s wedding plans. No sister telling her about the baby growing inside her. Blessed peace. Except, there was no peace with this rather odd attraction she felt for her friend. And then there was his unusual coldness toward her. It was so unlike him.
Still, returning home seemed her only option.
When she remained silent, he asked, “Are you all right, Louisa?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“You haven’t replied.” His molded lips turned upwards. “Have you had too much to drink tonight?”
Staring at his mouth, she realized how much she wanted to feel those lips against hers again. She had never wanted the younger Harry to kiss her, but she wanted this Harry to kiss her. And press her against the hard length of his body. This wasn’t like her in the least. She shouldn’t want a man who so obviously wanted nothing to do with her any longer.
“No, just many things on my mind.”
“Such as?”
“Wondering why my dearest friend refuses to help me find a husband?”
HARRY WASN’T SURE HE knew her at all any longer. The Louisa he’d known thought out her actions in a logical manner. Her only reckless activities involved meeting him on a terrace or in a garden alone to talk.
“You should never have come out here, Louisa.”
“Where should I have gone then...to Ainsley?”
He barely contained a growl at the thought of her with Ainsley. “No, of course not. Why can’t Tessa find you a husband? No one believes she’s cursed now. And everyone knows who murdered her late husbands.”
She rose and then stared down at him with anger in her glassy eyes. “Tessa is the reason I cannot find a husband.”
“How so?”
“Your father’s death letter only confirmed that she wasn’t cursed or a murderess,” Louisa continued her outburst. “It did nothing about the fact that she’d continued to marry men who were of increasing rank. They blamed her for that, not your father.”
Harry rose to stand in front of her, his anger rising with this never-ending quarrel. “She only married those men because my father recommended them to her to increase her position in Society.”
“No one cares about that,” she replied, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Who is going to blame a duke when you can blame the daughter of a banker? After all,” she mimicked a disdainful voice of quality, “perhaps those men got what they deserved for not marrying someone from ‘good’ Society.”
He flinched, knowing she was likely correct. But being mere inches from her was doing terrible things to his mind and body. Her eyes were blazing in anger. Her chest raised and lowered in uneven bouts. And while she’d clearly had too much to drink, she wouldn’t back down.
Why couldn’t she realize he was the wrong person to help her for so many reasons?
“I am not coming to town to help you,” he finally said.
“Then you shall have to marry me in five months when you turn thirty.”
“I cannot marry you.” He leaned closer, breathing in the heady scent of lilac mixed with brandy. Her tongue swiped across her full lower lip, distracting him to no end.
A kiss.
He couldn’t.
Kiss her. You wanted to for years.
He really shouldn’t. But his head moved even closer to hers. Toward her lips. Rosy, full and ready to be kissed. Her pink tongue slid across her lower lip, tempting him even more. For years, he’d imagined what she would taste like...sweet like sugar with maybe a hint of tanginess from the brandy. She would be an overwhelming sensation he’d remember all his life.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped as if realizing his intention.
He couldn’t do this. Kissing Louisa would only make her believe there was a chance he would marry her. He lifted his head abruptly as if he’d been burned from getting too close to a flame.
“Leave, Louisa,” he commanded, pointing to the door.
“Leave?” She sounded confused.
“Yes.” Before he made a mistake that they both would regret.
“Oh, I’ll go,” she replied tartly. “But don’t think for one moment that this is over.”
It was over between them when he left for India. The day his life changed forever.
“WAKE UP, PAPA!”
“Stop bouncing, and I might open my eyes.” Could it be morning already? He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.
Charlotte sat perfectly still until he opened his eyes. “Why did you let her go?”
“Who?”
“Miss Drake! She said goodbye a few minutes ago. Why didn’t you stop her? I like her. She seemed sad. She had tea with me. And she read to me. And she found the eyes for our snowman. Can I call her mamma?”
Harry sat up in bed and stared down at his loquacious daughter. Far too many questions after being up half the night berating himself for almost kissing Louisa. Did his daughter just ask if she could call Louisa mamma? He shook his head to clear the fog. One question at a time.
“What do you mean she left?”
“She said her Mamma missed her.”
Highly unlikely.
“She said she’d walk to town. I don’t think she should, Papa. It’s cold out.”
“Charlotte, where are you?” Nurse called out from the corridor.
“She’s in here.”
“Papa!”
Harry moved his daughter out of the way and then scrambled out of bed. The nerve of her leaving without so much as a by your leave. “Go back with Nurse, poppet. I will fetch Miss Drake.”
“You will bring her home?”
Harry sighed. “If she wants to return to London, there is nothing I can do. But I will lend her my carriage at least, so she is comfortable.”
Charlotte’s lower lip stuck out. “I want her to come home. I want her to read to me again.”
“I know, Charlotte.” Knowing he would never be able to leave his daughter if he didn’t give her something, he said, “Perhaps in the spring we can go to town and see the elephant.”
“And see Miss Drake?”
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. His darling, determined daughter would never stop now. “Yes, we will call on Miss Drake.”
She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Yay! I will tell Nurse.”
“April is four months away, poppet.”
“Oh.” Charlotte ran off to tell Nurse her news. Thankfully forgetting to ask more about whether Louisa would be her new mother. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his daughter, but there was no chance he could marry Louisa or anyone.
Harry dressed quickly before running down the stairs. Seeing Jenkins, he asked, “Why didn’t you provide a carriage for Miss Drake?”
“I did try, Your Grace. She refused.”
“Then you should have informed me.” There were days he wanted to let his butler go, but he had been with the family for years.
Jenkins reached for a missive on the salver. “She left this for you.”
Harry reached for the letter and moved to the salon for privacy.
Your Grace,
<
br /> You have until May 30th, 1820, the occasion of your thirtieth birthday, to find me a suitable husband or marry me yourself.
Should you refuse to do either, I shall be forced to show the pact we signed to the ton’s biggest gossips.
L.
Harry let out a curse before hurling the note into the fireplace. He should be pleased. She was gone. Out of his life. He’d pushed her away for her own good.
So why did he feel so bloody irritated?
Chapter 6
THREE DAYS LATER, A hackney pulled up in front of her mother’s home on the outskirts of Mayfair. Not a large house, but enough for Mamma, Emma, and her. Dread slowed her pace to the door.
She still had no idea what to tell her mother.
On the way to Northwood Park, Louisa had concentrated on how to ask Harry for what she wanted. She’d assumed, quite incorrectly so, that on the return trip she would invent an excellent excuse for her mother. Instead, all she’d done was scrutinize every conversation with the frustrating duke. His attitude toward her continued to puzzle her.
They had never quarreled as much in all the past seven years combined. Nor had she ever felt such tension between them. A part of her felt guilty for leaving Harry when it was apparent that he needed a friend. But with the odd desire for him, it was for the best that she had departed before she’d made an impulsive mistake.
Like, kiss him.
Which was exactly what she’d almost done. No, this was for the best. If she had stayed, kissing him might have been the least of what happened.
Davis opened the door as she ascended the brick steps. “Oh, Miss Drake, we have all been so worried for you. Your mother will be pleased to have you home safely.”
“Thank you, Davis.” She walked into the house and sighed. “Is my mother at home?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Louisa,” her mother bellowed sharply from the top step. “You have finally decided to return?”
Another door upstairs banged shut and then Emma was standing there too. “Louisa!”
Both rushed down the stairs. Emma pulled Louisa into the salon as their mother followed behind. Mamma sat on the floral divan as Emma and Louisa sat across from her.
“I will call for tea,” Emma said, glancing at them both.
For a long moment, Louisa could only sit and look at them both. She felt terrible for making them worry. “I am sorry, Mamma. I should not have left as I did on Christmas. It was very thoughtless of me.”
“Emma, I need to speak to your sister alone. You may return when we are finished.”
“Mamma, I am about to be married. Surely there is nothing you cannot say in front of me,” her sister complained.
“Leave us,” Mamma ordered, pointing her finger at the door.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once her sister left, her mother crossed her arms over her puffed out chest. “Exactly where, and with whom, have you been?”
“What did you tell everyone?”
“I said you went to see my aunt in Scotland. What else was I supposed to say when you left on Christmas Day with some story about finding a husband? You could have ruined us all!”
Louisa knew there was no point in lying to her mother. “I went to see Harry.”
“Harry?” Her mother paused with a frown. “You mean Worthington! How could you do such a disastrous thing, Louisa? That family wants nothing to do with us, and I feel the same. His insane father all but ruined us.” Her mother pulled out a handkerchief and twisted it in her hands. “Why would you go to see him?”
“He was always a friend to me, Mamma. And I needed his help.”
“You didn’t think he would offer to marry you, did you?”
“Of course not.” She’d never really considered the idea, not even when they made that foolish deal. Years ago, he’d hinted that he desired her, but she’d always disregarded his innuendos as nothing more than his rakish behavior. Because who would desire the plain Drake sister?
“Did that blackguard do anything improper?” When Louisa only stared at her in confusion, her mother added, “Do we need to worry about a child from this?”
“No, he is a gentleman.”
“Well, that is one blessing.” She waved her handkerchief at Louisa. “Still, you mustn’t let anyone know you went to see him, including Emma. If Lady Bolton ever discovered this, she might force her son to break their engagement. Think of the scandal then! After your refusal to marry Blakely and Emerson, a rejection by Bolton would be the end of us all.”
All her mother ever cared about was getting her daughters married with no scandals attached to their name—no easy task when Mamma held the one secret that would scandalize everyone.
Her mother went to the door and called a sulking Emma back into the room.
“How is Tessa feeling?” Louisa asked as the footman brought tea in for them.
“She is now past the dreadful morning sickness,” Emma said before falling into a chair. “I do not think I would like to be with child.”
Her mother shook her head. “If you wish to marry, Emma, you should get used to the idea of childbearing. Your betrothed is a viscount and will expect an heir and a spare.”
Emma sipped her tea and then asked, “Did you really go to Scotland?”
Louisa slid a glance over at her mother, who sent her a warning look. “Yes, I did. I thought Aunt Greyson might help me find a suitable husband.”
Emma laughed. “Aunt Greyson can barely see or hear any longer. How could she help?”
“She has always had the respect of the ton.” Louisa hated lying to her sister. “I thought she might have some words of advice.”
“Did she?” Emma asked.
“No.” She might have been better off paying a call on her aunt than visiting the reclusive duke. But she needed to change the subject before she confessed everything to her sister. “How are the wedding plans going?”
“Slowly. Bolton insists his mother must agree to a date. Lady Bolton has yet to give any response.”
Louisa tilted her head and stared at her younger sister. “She must be trying to determine the best date for the maximum number of people to attend.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Louisa hoped Emma was right, and the reason wasn’t due to Lady Bolton hoping Emma would call off the wedding. Louisa had never like Lady Bolton. The viscountess always seemed a bit too concerned with Society and keeping her family name impeccable. Louisa wondered if the viscountess had even been aware of her son’s decision to offer for Emma until it was too late. Louisa rather doubted Lady Bolton would have approved the engagement.
A FORTNIGHT HAD PASSED since Louisa left Northwood Park and still, all Harry could think of was her. She never seemed to leave his mind. If he wasn’t thinking of her, then Charlotte was asking about her. Or worse, he dreamed of her. Erotic dreams that left him hard and unsatisfied.
This had to stop. Somehow, he had to find a way of eliminating her from his thoughts.
He stared down at the ledger on his desk, not seeing the digits in front of him. His steward spoke of the number of lambs predicted this spring, but Harry could only wonder what Louisa would think. Would she agree with Mr. Leeds or believe his estimate inaccurate? Would she recommend something different?
“In conclusion, Your Grace, I do believe we should continue to increase our production of rye.”
“Yes, of course.” When had Leeds started discussing rye?
Mr. Leeds rose and stared down at the ledger. “Your Grace, if I may, are you well?
Hardly. “Just distracted today. I apologize.”
Mr. Leeds shook his almost bald head. “I understand, sir. You have much to worry over with your estates. Will you go to town this year?”
“I have not decided yet,” Harry lied. He couldn’t return to town and face those dreadful people.
“Very good, Your Grace. Would you like me to leave the ledgers for you to review?”
Harry pushed the leather-bou
nd book across the desk. “No, I have looked at the numbers and everything seems to be in order.”
“Good afternoon, then.” Leeds bowed and departed for his home.
Staring out at the grass finally peeking through the melting snow, he wondered again if she’d arrived home safely. He had no way of knowing since she had stopped writing to him, and the uncertainty of her predicament pricked his conscience.
Ever since she’d departed, he wondered if he’d done the right thing. Should he have agreed to find her a husband?
Bloody hell, no!
His conscience wouldn’t let him offer for her as it would do nothing but bring up the past for them both. The gossip both families might have to endure would be endless. She deserved better—not a man whose father’s mad actions completely ruined their family name.
And not a man who failed his own wife.
Staying away from her, from town, seemed the only course.
She deserved a gentleman who would understand her. A man who was unburdened by the shame of his actions and those of his father’s. And as usual, every time he had that thought darkness seeped into his soul, covering him like a shroud.
In many ways, he was as guilty as his father.
Thrusting the frustrating thoughts away, he poured a brandy and then sank into a chair. But as soon as he sat, his thoughts returned to Louisa. He completely understood her reasoning for wanting a husband. A spinster was nothing but a burden and something her family could ill afford.
While Tessa had a decent inheritance from her last husband and her current husband had money from his grandmother, she now had a child on the way. Her husband was trying to build his law practice, but it takes time for a solicitor to land well-paying clients. Money could be tight for a while.
Emma would marry Bolton. Harry almost smiled, thinking about how Louisa would vex Bolton. She had twice the brains as the viscount, and Harry could only imagine the quarrels that would happen if she lived with them.
That only left her mother with whom she could live, and that would drive her mad.
Dammit, there was no easy solution to this mess.
A Deal with a Duke Page 7
