Wild Passions of a Mischievous Duchess

by Violet Hamers

  “This is my cousin,” Leah said. “The Lady Selina Drake.”

  “Your Grace, it’s lovely to meet you,” Selina said, curtsying.

  “A pleasure, My Lady,” Her Grace said. She was dressed in an elegant gray-silk gown befitting of a duchess. Her neck was piled with several strands of pearl and diamond necklace, and she had an ostrich plume, draped over her piled tresses. “I must apologize—my son should be here.”

  “I’ll go and find him, Your Grace,” Lady Leah said.

  “I’ll help,” Selina said, trailing after her cousin.

  She entered, finding herself in a three-story foyer, with black-and-white tiling on the floor. Selina was surprised at the small gathering at the engagement party. No wonder Leah was pouting. There were few people here to witness her biggest triumph. She wondered if the wedding was going to be small, as well.

  The interior of Gillingham Manor was impressive—the walls were papered in gold, with oil paintings of ancestors and woodland scenes, hanging on the walls.

  Her silk skirts swished around her legs, luxuriously. Her feet, in their narrow little cream-colored slippers, barely made a sound as she walked.

  Large, white taper candles were everywhere, lighting up the room so that all could be seen. The candlelight flickered, making the glass and the crystal sparkle. There were large floral arrangements—lilies, white roses, and jasmine, which gave off a soft scent.

  She scanned the gathering, recognizing the few neighbors who attended her aunt and uncle’s dinner parties. She guessed that the others were family.

  Leah walked briskly, craning her neck as she searched for her missing fiancé.

  “What does he look like?” Selina asked.

  “He promised that he’d wear his green jacket,” Leah told her. “Oh! There he is! Beside Lord Sandbourne.”

  Selina followed Leah’s gaze, spotting an immensely-handsome gentleman, who looked absolutely disagreeable. He looked bored. At his own engagement party.

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured, laughing to herself as she followed Leah. The Duke of Gillingham was certainly handsome—but he looked miserable. He wore a dark-green coat and a pair of cream-colored pants. His hair was dark, and from here, she couldn’t discern his eye color. He looked like any other member of the ton—so full of self-importance that he’d left no room for any character.

  “There you are, Your Grace,” Leah said superciliously. “Your mother’s sent me to get you—our guests are arriving.” She turned back to Selina, her hand on her fiancé’s arm. “I told you about my cousin, the Lady Selina Drake.” She eyed Selina, pursing her lips. “Cousin, let me introduce you to my fiancé, His Grace, The Duke of Gillingham.”

  * * *

  Jasper felt as though he’d been struck by lightning. He reached out for her hand, feeling electricity shoot through him. It was like she’d stepped out of a painting—she looked like one of Titian’s angels.

  “Lady Selina,” he murmured, leaning to brush his lips chastely over the soft gloves that covered her knuckles. He kept his eyes on hers. They were hazel, green with a touch of honey. He watched a blush form on her cheeks. He now knew why Leah had been upset at her arrival. She was a lady who commanded attention.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she replied, smiling kindly. Her hair was golden, a few curls framing her face. He straightened, reluctantly letting go of her hand. She was the picture of perfection. She took his breath away.

  I must speak with her.

  “I must go and greet Lady Mortimer,” Lady Leah said, looking at him. “Will you entertain my cousin while I do? She knows no one here.”

  “You don’t have to,” Lady Selina said softly as Lady Leah moved through the sparse crowd.

  “It’s all right,” he said, offering her his arm. “Come. I will show you our gardens.” There was a pause. He felt his heart, skip a beat. “They’re the talk of the county,” he said. “I must insist.”

  “Don’t you have guests to welcome?” she asked.

  “It’s as much my mother’s home as it is mine,” he insisted.

  “Your Grace,” Lady Selina replied. “I haven’t got a chaperone—my aunt and uncle have not yet arrived.”

  “Then we’ll stand on the terrace,” he said. “In full view of the entire party.”

  “Very well,” she said, at last, she glanced backward. He looked around, finding that Lady Leah had vanished. He spotted her talking to Lady Mortimer over by the front door.

  * * *

  Selina’s hand was tucked in the crook of his arm. Her pulse was racing. Her skin tingled at his touch, even through the fabric of her gloves. Her whole body felt suffused with warmth at his interest in her.

  “Will you be visiting us long?” he asked as they walked out and onto the terrace, which overlooked the gardens. Some long-ago ancestor of his had put in a stone path, which traveled through the perfectly-manicured shrubs, making several neat loops.

  “Until the summer,” she murmured as they stood, looking out over the impressive gardens. There were a few people, promenading in pairs along the paths, and they were, by no means, alone. From where she stood, Selina could see into the ballroom. “I’m to meet my parents in London, upon their return from Paris.”

  “London? In the summer?” He looked at her incredulously.

  “Yes. For a week or two,” she explained, letting go of his arm to lean her hands on the balustrade. “And then it will be back to our county seat in Hertfordshire until the Season starts.” She glanced away from him, to look at the staircase, which led down.

  “Ah,” he said. “I never much cared for the Season.”

  “Why is that?” she asked, waving to an elderly couple as they passed them on their way out into the garden.

  “All of the people, vying for attention,” he said.

  “You don’t like attention?” she asked, turning her gaze to him.

  “No. It’s different—it’s posturing. I much prefer honest conversation,” he said. She studied him curiously. Those green eyes were arresting. He was not at all what she’d imagined.

  “What, pray tell, does honest conversation entail?” she asked, finding herself interested. He was handsome, certainly. But she’d never lost her head over a gentleman before, mainly because most gentlemen were after her fortune or entranced by her beauty. She’d always been looking for someone who could share a conversation. Someone interesting, but everyone always turned out to be the same.

  This—this was different. She found herself gazing at his lips—they were well-shaped, masculine—smiling at her. She raised her eyes to meet his.

  “Well, both conversationalists must be talking about subjects on which they are genuinely interested in, preferably not themselves and their titles or inheritance.”

  “You’d lose over half the ton,” she said. They both laughed. “What should our conversation be about?” She was dying to know.

  “Love,” he said.

  “Love? What about it?” She had to admit, she was disappointed. The smile fell from her face. Here he was, trying to flirt with her! Her own cousin’s husband-to-be!

  “It is an engagement party,” he reminded her, a touch morosely.

  She looked at him. His bright-green eyes were studying her with interest. Was he attempting to flirt with her? She didn’t know him well enough to tell. After all, many gentlemen assumed that she was flirting with them, even when she wasn’t.

  “Very well,” she said, deciding to take the bait. “What about it?” She looked away from him, her eyes traveling over the gardens, out to the fields, and off toward the small wood in the distance. He was quiet for a long moment. She let him collect his thoughts.

  “Do you believe that marriage should be between two people who love each other?” he asked, at last.

  “I can’t speak for other people,” she said, coloring. “I only plan to marry for love and nothing less.”

  “Then you know—” he began, and she turned to face him.

  “That you and Lad
y Leah aren’t in love?” she asked, pausing. She had figured, in the few moments that she’d seen them together. He looked miserable. To go any further, might be dangerous territory. She looked over his shoulder, where she could see into the house through the French doors, which had been propped open to let air into the ballroom.

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you ask?” she wondered, looking him right in the eye.

  “I—I don’t know.” He looked away, sighing.

  “Perhaps, it would be best if we didn’t speak of it.” After all, what good would this do? He was as good as married to Leah, who already had a marked dislike of her. How was she supposed to be a guest in her aunt and uncle’s home if she stole the groom?

  “You’re right, of course,” he agreed.

  “Let’s head back inside, shall we, Your Grace? Here you are, spending all of this time with me, and you’re neglecting your own guests,” she admonished.

  As they headed back toward the doors, there was a tall, dark-haired gentleman, who was just stepping out on the terrace. He raised a glass toward them.

  “Hello, there, old bean,” he said to the Duke. Selina looked at him with pleasure. Anyone who wasn’t cowed by the powers of prestigious titles was a good person in her book.

  “Lady Selina Drake,” the Duke said. “May I introduce to you my oldest friend, Stephen Cull, The Marquess of Sandbourne.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said, bowing to her. Selina smiled widely as she gave him a curtsy.

  “Charmed, My Lord,” she said. She wasn’t attracted to him in the least. However, he promised to be nothing more than a good conversation and a dance or two. Just enough to get the Duke of Gillingham out of her mind.

  * * *

  Jasper watched Lady Selina dancing with Stephen. The way that she moved was entrancing, and the way that the light from the candles fell upon her golden hair gave her a bit of a glow. She was easily the most beautiful lady in the room.

  “The party is going well,” Lady Leah said to Jasper. As per the rules of being politely engaged, Jasper and Leah had danced two dances together. They were now standing aside, to let other couples take a turn at being the focus on the dance floor. Naturally, Lady Selina was that focus.

  “Oh, yes,” he replied, glancing at her. She was beaming, almost glowing with happiness.

  “Lady Mortimer particularly likes the floral arrangements,” she went on. “She says we should do something similar for the wedding. She says that they’re absolutely divine.”

  “Perhaps we should,” he said. He was feeling worse about the wedding. Now that he’d met Lady Selina, spoken to her, he didn’t want to marry Lady Leah. Was it love? It was too soon to say. To marry someone that he didn’t love—he couldn’t conceive of it. He felt like he should be doing something to stop the wedding from happening. But what? What could he do that wouldn’t be a scandal of epic proportions?

  “Selina’s such an abominable flirt,” Lady Leah said darkly. Jasper looked at her in surprise. She was scowling.

  “I didn’t find her to be such,” he said.

  “Look at the way she’s teasing Lord Sandbourne,” she said. “He looks besotted. All the gentlemen just line up to be led on, and she goes from one to the next. It’ll happen all night.”

  Jasper looked at Stephen. He’d seen his friend besotted before, and this was not what it looked like. Stephen threw his head back and laughed at something that Lady Selina said. It merely looked like they were having an enjoyable conversation.

  He recalled the way that her smile had faded the moment he began speaking to her of love. She could have flirted then, but she hadn’t. She’d reminded him, gently, that he had a duty. It had been rather…admirable, proper.

  The dance ended. He watched Lady Selina curtsy to Stephen, who bowed and offered her his arm. She took it. Stephen’s gaze searched him out, and when he spotted them, he said something to Lady Selina, who nodded. Jasper looked down, his heart pounding as she walked toward him.

  “Here they come now,” Lady Leah said grimly.

  “Lady Leah,” Stephen said as he and Lady Selina neared them. “Will you do me the honor of a dance?”

  Jasper glanced at Leah, who was gritting her teeth as she smiled. “Of course, Lord Sandbourne. I’d be delighted.”

  The two left, leaving Jasper alone with Lady Selina. She smiled, then snapped her fan open, covering her face, her alluring eyes studying him over the cream-colored lace.

  “Alone again, Your Grace,” she said.

  His pulse was racing as he looked at her. He smiled, swallowing. It felt like his mouth was full of cotton.

  “Will you do me the honor of dancing with me, My Lady?” he asked.

  She snapped her fan shut, revealing her smile. “Of course, Your Grace. After all, we’re soon to be family.”

  He offered her his arm, and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. He could smell her perfume—lavender and rose.

  “Tell me, My Lady,” he said, so softly that no one else would hear. “Don’t you feel it, too?”

  He looked her in the eyes. The smile had fallen from her face. “What if it’s only infatuation?” she whispered as he placed his hand on the small of her back, drawing her closer to him for the waltz.

  “What if it’s not?” he replied, hope making his chest feel full of light.

  “Why would you do something so rash?”

  He began to lead in the box step, twirling her and then pulling her close. She was an excellent dancer, her technique perfect.

  “Tell me, if given the choice between a loveless marriage, and the very distinct possibility that you’ve found a chance at true happiness, which would you choose?”

  She stared up at him, her mouth pursed into a line.

  They stepped back. When they stepped toward each other again, she answered. “I’d choose love, of course.”

  “Can you tell me, without a doubt, that you don’t feel the same?”

  She didn’t answer, the dance steps moving her away from him. When they were brought back together, he knew her answer—she didn’t need to say.

  Chapter Three

  Leah stood among the crowd, watching her cousin dance with her fiancé. Goosebumps raised all across the skin at the back of her neck, and her stomach flipped nauseously. The way that the Duke—her Duke— was looking at Selina was rather telling.

  This was the very thing that she’d feared, as soon as her mother had announced that her cousin would be arriving.

  When the dance brought them near to her, she heard His Grace say, “Can you not tell me that you feel the same?” Leah watched as Selina colored, the blush on her cheeks making her look the perfect English Rose.

  Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt rage, like a wildfire, consuming her. It had happened again. Selina had shown up and taken it all: the attention, the party, the Duke.

  “I’ve never seen that lady before,” a gentleman said, his breath hot against her cheek. She turned to find herself face to face with Lord Reuben Munro, the Duke’s younger brother.

  “My cousin, the Lady Selina Drake,” Leah replied, bracing herself for the usual questions, her eyes never leaving the pair.

  “Why are you so glum, My Lady?” Lord Munro asked, causing Leah to look over at him. He was studying her closely.

  “I—” She sighed, not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “Tell me,” Lord Munro said, softly. “I won’t utter a word, My Lady.”

  Leah looked into his eyes—so like the Duke’s, and yet not. “Lady Selina has always been the center of attention,” she said. “It’s my engagement party. Shouldn’t it be my turn?”

  “Of course it’s your turn,” Lord Munro replied. “All you have to do is steal the show.”

  Leah looked at the Duke and Selina, and then at Lord Munro, who was watching them wistfully. She watched as he took a sip of his punch.

  “Is that even possible?” she asked.

&n
bsp; “Of course it is,” he replied, his eyes still following his brother.

  “Do you ever wish it was you?”

  “Naturally,” Lord Munro commented. He raised a finger in the air, pointing it at Leah. “Alas, Jasper was born first.”

  “I know how you feel,” she said, watching as he quirked one eyebrow doubtfully.

  “Do you, My Lady?” he asked. “I recall you being the Lord Kirby’s only child.”

  “She always got everything,” she said, nodding at Selina. “She’s always the center of attention, with people fawning over her golden hair, her creamy skin and those awful freckles. Not to mention, she’s precocious.”

  “Oh?” Lord Munro looked at her with a kind smile.

  “Always giving her opinions freely, whether you want to hear them, or not.”

  “It must be hard to be in her shadow,” Lord Munro said.

  “Extremely.” Leah glanced at him. He was so much like his brother—dark-blond hair, green eyes, but somehow, seemed lesser. And, she supposed, he was lesser. He was a lord, with nothing more than a hunting lodge on the edge of the estate. Leah certainly would never consider marrying him, even if he had been kind to her.

  “If you wanted, you could take her place. After all, what does she have that you don’t?” Lord Munro pointed out. Leah looked at the Duke and her cousin.

  Selina had just said something to the Duke, something which made him beam as if she’d just answered his fondest wish.

  Something dark awoke in Leah’s breast as she looked back at Selina and the Duke, they were looking at each other with such tenderness. Anger, like she’d never experienced before. It wasn’t that she was in love with the Duke. It was that the title of Duchess was within her reach. Her greatest victory over Selina, who was only just debuted the year before, at seventeen.

  “I am not her,” she replied softly.

  “Just be yourself,” he said, then bowed low. “My Lady.” He then wandered off, disappearing into the crowd. Leah looked back at Selina and the Duke, fear kindling inside of her.