Duke and Duplicity (Rogues and Gentlemen Book 15)

by Emma V. Leech

  ***

  The next morning Archie woke later than usual. The sun was already up, and another glorious day was visible beyond the glass. She stretched, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the luxury of the bed and a lazy morning. They’d played until the early hours. Archie suspected it would have been longer if the duke hadn’t realised she was dropping from exhaustion. He’d been reluctant to allow the evening to end and she wondered if he slept much. The duke seemed the kind of man who bored easily and was always looking for something of interest.

  A smile curved over her mouth as she remembered the evening, and the banter. She’d enjoyed herself. For a moment she had forgotten the trouble she was in and just allowed the evening to progress as it would. Ranleigh was excellent company. The combination of a sharp mind, an easy manner, and an obvious delight in the ridiculous made him an entertaining and amusing companion. Why the devil was he still single?

  For the same reason most men of his ilk remained single, she supposed. He was having too much fun. That was what she’d always imagined, anyway. Though from what she’d seen of polite society, a marriage was no barrier to fun. He certainly wouldn’t be short of women fawning over him, eager to be the next duchess, that was for certain. Archie sighed and then let out a breath of laughter. What on earth would her father think if he could see her now? She couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  Her father had been a good man. The very best. The younger son of a good family, he had been educated and surprisingly broad minded. He’d never judged her, never tried to mould her into something she didn’t want to be. He’d loved his land and his dogs, a good meal and a glass of claret, and her. Her father had been kind and loving, and, above all, honest. That thought caught at her throat and her good mood evaporated. Perhaps she did know what he would think after all.

  Ranleigh appeared through the huge front doors as Archie made her way down the stairs. He was dressed for riding and had the air of a man who’d been up and about for hours.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” she complained, and then drew herself up short, wondering if their easy banter last night had been the result of excellent wine and better brandy. To her relief, the duke shook his head.

  “Not much, no,” he admitted before adding, “Hungry?”

  Archie opened her mouth to speak but her stomach beat her to it. The sound didn’t quite echo around the great hall, but it was a close thing.

  Ranleigh grinned. “Silly question. Go and quiet the beast in your belly and come and find me. I’ll be in my study.”

  Archie stuffed down an embarrassing mound of kedgeree, three rounds of toast and enough tea to drown it in. When she was done, she made her way to Ranleigh’s study as he’d asked her to.

  “Thank God,” he said, looking up. “Save me from paperwork. Ghastly stuff, and it’s too nice a day to be stuck indoors. Tell me. Do you fish?”

  “Yes,” Archie said, grimacing a little. She could fish, but she wasn’t mad about it. Not that she couldn’t handle a fish; her father had seen to that. He’d insisted she learn how to gut one too, so she was quite proficient but … ugh. The smell.

  “Excellent,” Ranleigh said, oblivious to her distaste. “There’s a lovely little brook about a mile and a half away.”

  ***

  “Damn you, boy,” Ranleigh said, exasperated. “You’re determined to show me up.”

  “I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Archie scratched her head and stared down at the massive fish at her feet.

  The duke stood beside her, hands on hips as he regarded it with frustration. “The bloody thing’s got to be seventeen pounds if it’s an ounce.”

  Archie nodded, bemused. “All of that, I’d say. It damn near pulled me in.”

  “Must I remind you of the rule?” he said, glaring at her, though his eyes were alight with laughter.

  “Um… you’re a duke and ought to catch the biggest fish?” she ventured.

  He nodded, folding his arms. “Exactly.”

  She pursed her lips. “We could pretend you caught it,” she offered.

  Ranleigh looked disgusted and she fought to keep a straight face.

  “Well, you’d best try harder, then,” she said tartly.

  The duke narrowed his eyes. “No thank you. I’ve gone off fishing.”

  Archie bit her lip.

  “What are you going to do with your prize?” he demanded.

  “Put it back?” she said hopefully. “That way no one will ever know.”

  “I’ll know,” Ranleigh said with arctic tones, though she knew he was playing the fool to amuse her.

  Getting the blasted thing back in the water was harder than pulling the blasted thing out had been. The ridiculous creature seemed oblivious to the fact that freedom was at its fin tips and kept flapping and wriggling in the wrong direction. It appeared neither of them was terribly fond of handling the things but Ranleigh was losing patience.

  “Come here you damn fool fish,” he muttered, hauling it into his arms, heedless of the fact his shirt and waistcoat were getting soaked and fishy. Staggering awkwardly down the bank, his boot slipped in the mud and he landed on his arse at the water’s edge. The fish wriggled free, into the river and added insult to injury by giving one massive swipe of its tail and sending a shower of water over him.

  Archie tried. She really did. She bit her lip so hard she feared she might draw blood, but it was no good. Hysteria beckoned.

  “Remind me why I invited you to stay?” Ranleigh demanded, struggling to his feet and dripping at the edge of the water. His boots were wrecked, his breeches sodden and muddy, and there was a trail of green pond weed hanging off his cuff.

  Archie dissolved.

  “Oh. My. God,” she gasped, falling to her knees. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but….” She lay flat on the floor, clutching at her chest until she couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m going to think of some despicable form of vengeance, I hope you realise,” Ranleigh said, climbing back up the bank.

  “Worth it,” she said, taking another look at him and smothering a burst of laughter with her hand. “Absolutely worth it.”

  Ranleigh sighed and looked down at himself with a rueful smile. “Yes,” he said sadly. “I imagine you’d be right. For God’s sake, don’t tell anyone.”

  Archie grinned at him. “I’ll take it to my grave. Word of honour.”

  They walked back to the house, Ranleigh’s sodden boots creaking with each step as he grumbled about the fact his valet was going to murder him. As they walked in through the doors of his vast home, the butler’s mouth dropped open at the sight of his master in such a dishevelled state.

  “Not a word,” Ranleigh instructed. “Not one.”

  The butler shut his mouth.

  Once Ranleigh had dried off, they reconvened in his study. The weather had clouded over and the ride they’d briefly spoken about was cancelled in favour of staying dry. Ranleigh was not keen for another dousing, it appeared.

  “Do you play billiards?” the duke demanded, a suspicious glint in his eyes as he awaited her answer.

  Archie bit back a smile and shook her head. “No. I’ve never tried.”

  “Aha!” Ranleigh replied, grinning and looking triumphant. “Got you.”

  “That’s not terribly sporting of you,” she pointed out, as he led her to the billiards room. “I’m your honoured guest, remember, who saved you from theft and most likely bodily harm. In fact, I probably saved your life,” she said, warming to her theme. “And as I come from a far less privileged background, I’ve never had the opportunity to learn such a skill.”

  “Your loss,” he called over his shoulder, dismissing this argument with cheery disregard.

  Archie chuckled.

  Billiards was fun, though she was rather disappointed to discover she wasn’t very good at it. Ranleigh stopped short of crowing. Barely.

  Archie didn’t care. She’d had a wonderful day. Ranleigh was a delight and… her breath caught as he leaned down to take t
he shot that would win him the match. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing powerful arms and, as he’d long discarded his coat, she had a rather terrific view of his muscular thighs and well-shaped behind. She swallowed and averted her gaze.

  Behave Archie, for heaven’s sake.

  “Revenge is mine,” the duke muttered, lining up his shot.

  Archie waited a heartbeat.

  “Can you smell fish?”

  The shot went wide as Ranleigh struck the ball at the wrong angle and cursed. He turned to glare at her.

  “Devil!”

  “Sorry,” Archie said, helpless to contain her laughter. “Sorry, I… I just couldn’t resist.”

  With exaggerated dignity, Ranleigh put down the cue and straightened his waistcoat.

  “Think nothing of it,” he said, his tone mild. “Just don’t drink the wine tonight. I might be tempted to put something in it.”

  “What are we having?” Archie asked nonchalantly as Ranleigh went to retrieve his coat. “I rather fancy—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Ranleigh said, pointing at her. “There will be no fish served. None. Ever again.”

  ***

  The first course was fish.

  Archie bit her lip and said nothing.

  Ranleigh sighed.

  Chapter 3

  “Wherein confidences are shared and Archie senses trouble.”

  The next morning Ranleigh greeted Archie with the warmth of an old friend, or perhaps more precisely like a fondly amused older brother greeting the younger. They shared a hearty breakfast as the household bustled about, preparing for the duke’s departure for London.

  “May as well stretch our legs before hours sat in a carriage,” Ranleigh said as they walked into the gardens.

  Archie had seen a little of them yesterday as they walked down to the brook but now, with Ranleigh guiding her around their immaculate paths, she could truly appreciate them.

  There were sweeping vistas, lakes, thick woodland, manicured lawns, and every aspect of beauty that Archie would have expected from such a property. She’d explored Castle Hadley, after all, though this was rather prettier compared to the castle’s starker, more natural beauty. For a moment, she wondered what Will would make of it and thought she must ask him if he knew the duke… and then caught herself.

  Fool.

  She frowned and tried to shake the depression off.

  Ranleigh stopped and Archie did likewise, looking up to find him watching her.

  “Care to tell me about the trouble you’re in?” he asked. There was no judgement in his eyes, no sense of prying. Only concern.

  Archie opened and closed her mouth, aware that she had denied being in trouble at all.

  “No.”

  She met the duke’s gaze and he shrugged, accepting this with good grace, if a little frustration.

  “You know, my position gives me a good deal of authority,” he said, a careless remark which was anything but.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Archie replied, touched that he would persist. He hardly knew her.

  Yet, this, she had found, was how people took to Archie, the young man with a good heart and a bit too much cheek for his own good. Why hadn’t she been born a boy? It was so natural to inhabit this world as one, and this simple, informal camaraderie with her fellows was so easy to cultivate. She gave Ranleigh a sideways look, admiring the handsome profile, his impressive build, those wide shoulders… and flushed a little. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been that easy after all.

  “I could likely make your difficulties disappear with little more than a snap of my fingers,” he continued, studying her now.

  Archie paused as he had done, turning to face him on the neat gravelled path that was leading them through formal gardens with clipped hedges and topiary pyramids.

  “I didn’t really save your life,” she said, amused and a little perplexed by his insistence. “Only your watch.”

  Ranleigh shrugged, his irritation clear. “You didn’t have to do that much.” He gestured at the bruise on her jaw which was now showing a purplish blue against her pale skin. “No one else would have, and it cost you. You could have been badly hurt.”

  Archie rolled her eyes. “And you have recompensed me with fine dinners, a soft bed, good company, and a free ride back to the city. It’s not as though you haven’t repaid any debt, if there was one.”

  “Why don’t you want more, though?” Ranleigh demanded, apparently flummoxed.

  The words seemed forced from him in such a rush that Archie felt he hadn’t meant to voice the question out loud.

  “Why are you so insistent on giving it?” she countered, equally bewildered. “What if I’ve done something truly dreadful? I might be an enemy spy. You might despise me for what I told you. What then? What if I said I was a murderer and I was running from a crime? Would you still want to help me then?”

  The duke stared at her now. Hard. The look made her heart beat faster, and she was certain that her façade would crumble under the weight of that considering gaze, under the calculated assessment in eyes that were, for once, serious.

  “I would need to know the circumstances,” he said at length.

  Archie threw up her hands, heaven defend her from reasonable men. “God, you’re pushy.”

  That drew a startled bark of laughter from him and Archie couldn’t help but echo it.

  “Sorry,” Ranleigh said, giving her a crooked grin. “I’m a duke. It comes with the territory. I’m used to getting my own way.”

  Archie nodded, wishing this could have been simpler. Ranleigh was someone she could have been friends with. Good Lord, what was she saying? She was a nobody. Making friends above her station had caused her enough trouble. Why in God’s name these powerful men even noticed her she couldn’t fathom. When she’d first come to London all those years ago after….

  After.

  She’d intended to keep her head down and live simply, but Archie seemed to attract attention whether she intended to or not.

  “You’ll tell me. If you change your mind?”

  Archie looked up. Ranleigh was watching her again, in that considering manner that made her a little uneasy. He was the kind of man who shared confidences with his friends, the kind of man to whom you told your own secrets, knowing he would keep them safe. Most people didn’t have secrets like Archie, though.

  “I will.”

  They were walking back to the house when the sound of wheels on gravel announced the approach of a carriage. Archie glanced at the duke as it drew closer, only to see his face shutter up, displeasure and resignation settling over his handsome features.

  “Forgive me,” he said, looking almost embarrassed. “This will be unpleasant.”

  Archie took a breath as a beautiful woman stepped down from the carriage. Blonde and dressed in the height of fashion, she was a woman men lost their minds over. All at once she felt foolish, unsure of herself. Though she’d never desired the beauty and grace that this woman carried with ease, she did long for the confidence that came from being exactly as society thought she ought to be. This woman looked at ease in her own skin in a way Archie had never known. She conformed to the world’s notions of beauty and femininity, and Archie hated her a little for that.

  “I’ll go,” she said, turning to hurry away and give him privacy, and started as the duke caught at her sleeve.

  “No, stay. Please,” he added, his expression voicing what he didn’t say. That this was most improper, and he ought not ask it of a near stranger. There was something in his tone though; a plea she found irresistible.

  Archie stayed.

  The woman walked up to the duke, stunning and imperious, ignoring Archie as if she were simply a garden feature.

  “Bradbury offered for me.” She flung the words at the duke with fury. Her chin was up, her blue eyes like little chips of ice. Her voice matched the eyes, cold and sharp.

  “Congratulations,” Ranleigh replied, his tone mild.

  The woman drew off
her glove and slapped him. Hard.

  Archie took a step forward, to do what she didn’t know. Ranleigh was a big man. He hardly needed defending and, seeing as she was posing as a man, she could hardly strike a woman. The desire to do so was palpable, however. She clenched her fists.

  Past a sharp intake of breath, the duke didn’t react to the woman’s attack. He raised his hand to his lip and, as he drew it back, his fingers were smeared with blood. Without a word, he drew out a pristine handkerchief and cleaned it away.

  “You told him to offer for me, you bastard. He would never have dared—” The woman bit off the words and took a moment before she spoke again. “You don’t care what I say? You don’t care how badly I slander you? I will.”

  Archie didn’t know what she was talking about, but there was challenge behind the words. She thought perhaps there was something close to wonder there, too.

  “I don’t respond well to blackmail, my dear,” the duke replied, his tone bored, his expression placid and disinterested. “I warned you. So, you may do or say what you please. I won’t stop you. See how well it goes for you. See if your earl holds to his offer then. See who else will offer when he withdraws.”

  The blonde’s gaze sharpened, the slight flush at her cheeks darkening now. Whatever Ranleigh meant, she knew he was right. She despised him for being right.

  “Bradbury is a good man,” Ranleigh continued, frowning a little. “Better than you deserve, and he brings the title you so desperately wanted. You’d do well to be satisfied.”

  Archie surveyed the blonde with misgiving. Satisfied was not a word that could describe the beautiful creature, who looked positively murderous now.

  “You think you’ve won,” she sneered, and Archie started back a step herself at the ugliness of her expression, the depth of her fury. “But I will return the favour one day. Just you wait and see.”

  With that, the girl turned and swept away with a flurry of silken skirts. Ranleigh watched, unmoving as she returned to the carriage. Archie suspected he didn’t even blink, let alone breathe, until the carriage had receded to a distant point on the long drive to the house. Then he let out a breath.