The Duke's Heart

by Boyd, Heather

  “That you still love me?”

  “Yes, I do. I do not ever want to be without you again.”

  Kitty curled up closer to him but did not want to spoil the moment by mentioning this affair was bound to end much sooner than their first one had. She’d like to pretend they could be together forever for just a little longer.

  Chapter 14

  Kitty was excited, and she was finding it so hard to contain her emotions. She should be graceful and calm and not experiencing a sense of profound relief to be in the Duke of Exeter’s home once more. She could not describe the elation she’d experienced when she had received an invitation to dine with him, and that her brother and, more importantly, her niece, would be joining them, too.

  It was not just that she’d spent a vastly satisfying night of passion in Sinclair’s arms last night.

  It was being with him here again, in a way that benefited everyone.

  Kitty had stayed in the duke’s London residence once as a girl, brought along to keep Lady Susanna company. She had barely seen Sinclair, but she had explored this house from top to bottom, learned its secrets and wonders. Felicity could learn a lot from the experience just a few hours in this grand home could bring. So would Percy, too.

  Time had not diminished her memories, and the reality quite lived up to her expectations.

  Just like the man had last night. Had she really thought that age could have eroded the affection and stamina that had made Sinclair so unique when he was young?

  There was no way to fool herself about what they both wanted from each other—the easiest of pleasures were given freely with no strings attached.

  Given her state of mind right now, their affair would continue as long as they remained in close proximity. She was honest enough to admit there were no impediments to a short-term arrangement between them. It was entirely reasonable to expect that the tender feelings she’d felt in her youth for him would be stirred once again to life, though. There was a risk her heart might, although unwisely, become involved in his happiness yet again.

  However, she would not live like Willa, kept as a mistress and waiting for crumbs of affection—kept on the sidelines and never truly part of her lover’s life.

  She already knew she would hate herself if she agreed to pretend forever.

  That left a short-term affair as her only choice. She was too old for a second marriage, too old to give Sinclair the heir he sorely needed. She preferred not to dwell on that, though.

  Kitty’s heart filled to overflowing as she watched Sinclair conversing with his other guests. The Duke of Exeter was still as handsome as he’d been in his youth. He still commanded a room as he did at eighteen, and he knew everyone was watching him, too. The man was incorrigible, teasing everyone relentlessly, including his niece, Lady Hallam. He probably considered it his birthright to be so universally adored.

  “You are staring again,” Willa warned softly.

  Kitty knew she was, but could not seem to make herself stop. She had once considered herself well beyond the age to allow herself to be led astray by her passionate side. But Kitty had been wrong. Her fascination with Sinclair only seemed to increase, no matter that she warned herself that all things must end. She was interested in the Duke of Exeter romantically still, and was that not the height of foolishness for a woman her age?

  “I was not staring at the duke but at the painting near him; as I believe I mentioned before, it is familiar,” she said smoothly. It was half true. The duke was also a figure in one of the paintings. His sister had painted quite a few that hung in this room.

  Willa laughed softly. “The painting is remarkable. Should we venture closer for a better look?”

  Willa had no real interest in art, but doing all she could to advance Kitty’s affair with Sinclair had been her acknowledged goal tonight. She was utterly determined to keep Kitty in London or wherever Sinclair might be. “Yes, I think we should.”

  They moved across the room slowly, passing behind the duke. She sensed him turn toward her as she stopped to admire the painting. “It is of home,” she told Willa, who did not know the ducal estate as well as Kitty did. “This is looking south across the gardens.” She squinted at the ruins of a structure at the very edge. “And that brown blot on the landscape is the building my dear brother destroyed.”

  She sensed someone beside her, and it was Percy, come for a closer look. “Ah, so it is. My first act of notoriety.”

  “I do not think the late Lady Ettington painted this to immortalize your destruction.”

  “Partly,” Sinclair murmured as he joined them, along with his niece. “My sister liked to paint scenes that told a story.”

  “Why paint this one?”

  “It is a cautionary tale. To remind me to go home and check my estate is still intact.” The duke laughed softly. “I never knew what to expect when your brother was around, Lady Forbes. Susanna warned me to be on my guard.”

  His eyes were warm, teasing, but Kitty grew cold at his words. Did he know what Susanna had said to separate them, after all? He had never said as much.

  He looked over her head and frowned. “Excuse me.”

  He strode to the doorway to speak with a servant, leaving Lady Hallam behind.

  “My uncle often stares at the paintings as well,” Lady Hallam murmured. “He says he can almost reach out and feel the warmth of those summer days on his fingers.”

  “He must miss her a great deal.”

  Lady Hallam sighed deeply. “He never says as much, but we believe he thinks of her often when he is around the children. He becomes melancholy, though perhaps it has to do with remaining a bachelor, too. He is very good with the children.”

  “How wonderful it must be for him to be part of their lives. Are you and your brother close the way they were?”

  “Too close, perhaps.” When Kitty frowned, Lady Hallam rushed to explain. “We are not like Uncle and Mama were. My brother and I always know when the other is in distress.

  “How extraordinary,” Kitty whispered, quite surprised. “And you say your uncle and mama were not the same? They were very close as children.”

  “No. Not that either one has ever admitted. Uncle said he did not know Mama had passed until he read our letter to him. I think I would feel it with my brother. I certainly knew when he broke his arm. I woke up in the most unbearable pain once but had no injury. My nursemaid had no idea what caused me to cry until they carried my brother in, howling at the top of his lungs. We were six, I think. My mother was quite cross about the fuss we were raising because the servants sent for her and Father, too.”

  Kitty did not know what to say to that. Sinclair’s family had a habit of producing twins in each generation, but she had never before heard mention of so close a bond and an otherworldly connection as Lady Hallam described.

  Lady Hallam laughed nervously. “Forgive me, I don’t know why I told you about that. It is something I do not often talk about beyond members of my family. I’m sure you must find it as outlandish a tale as everyone else does at first.”

  “Not at all,” Kitty promised. “The bonds between men and women can be quite complex, especially so with siblings. Exeter must be reminded of his sister when he looks at you, too. You are very much like your mother used to be.” Kitty smiled warmly. She meant that as a compliment. But Lady Hallam was quiet and warm, and nothing at all like the woman she had once thought she’d known.

  “He said I inherited the best traits from my parents.”

  “I am sure he is right. It is quite obvious he cares for you a great deal.”

  “And I, him.” Lady Hallam smiled quickly then excused herself to attend others in the room.

  Kitty immediately looked for Sinclair and found him at the door still. Given dinner had ended some time ago, she was curious about his conversation with his servants. His shoulders had tensed, a sign something was wrong.

  She moved in that direction, noting as she did that it was not just one servant but seve
ral talking with the duke. Their long faces suggested they were not telling him good news. When she was quite close, she heard Sinclair exclaim, “I do not care that the hour is late! Keep looking.”

  The door closed, and Sinclair turned. Kitty knew by his expression that her instincts were correct. She moved closer to him. “Is anything the matter, your grace?”

  “No. Not really, I suppose.” He smiled tightly. “One of my men cannot be found tonight.”

  “Servants can sometimes be unreliable.” If they were unhappy, they might have found other employment, too. And it was only a few months ago that men were still being impressed into military service right off the street. She was certain that Sinclair had always taken good care of his staff, so she did not imagine anyone might choose to leave without at least trying to obtain a reference. “Does he have a sweetheart somewhere?”

  “I do not believe that to be the case, unfortunately.” He smiled quickly, nervously. “I am sure he’ll turn up eventually.”

  The man seemed important to Sinclair. She wondered why, but did not dare press for more information. She could hardly be of help finding anyone who might not want to be found. “I am sure he will, too.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, he will come back.” Sinclair’s hand was suddenly under her elbow, and he escorted her away from the door. “I have wanted to kiss you all night.”

  She laughed softly. “Patience.”

  “When can I call on you again?”

  “Not tonight, obviously. You have guests to entertain.”

  “If only dinner could have been just the two of us.”

  “That would have been delightful,” she assured him.

  He released her and gestured her toward an empty pair of seats across the room. She did not resist his suggestion.

  “How did you enjoy the dinner?” he asked.

  “Everything was delicious, of course.”

  He nodded. “My chef was under strict instructions to provide a taste of what is in store for my birthday festivities.”

  She grinned at him. “You are quite caught up with the excitement of your party preparations, aren’t you?”

  “Even more so now with you to attend.”

  She glanced away and sighed. “I did not promise to attend yet.”

  “It would mean a lot to me if you and your brother, people I have known all of my life, were there to mark the occasion with me.”

  She studied his expression—saw his eagerness, but realized there was more to this party to mark his birthday than she’d first considered. “Is it because Susanna is absent that you make so great a fuss?”

  “No. Well, perhaps. A little bit. My sister enjoyed fireworks,” he said, and then grinned widely. “Whereas you enjoy cake. There will be lots of cake served to my most important guest.”

  Kitty set her hand to her waistline, feeling full still from the wonderful dinner she’d just enjoyed, and laughed. The dessert course had been her favorite of all the fourteen courses. “A great failing of mine has always been my sweet tooth.”

  “Well, I happen to have a chef in my employ who serves up the most amazing delicacies I have ever tasted. Cost me a fortune to lure him from Lord Carmichael’s employ.”

  “You stole another lord’s servant?” Kitty laughed. “That is beyond the pale, Sinclair.”

  She bit her tongue over her slip and glanced around them carefully to see if anyone else had heard her use his given name. That would cause a scandal, and they were to pretend to be old friends and nothing more. It had been her stipulation, and she was the one acting too familiarly. She looked at Sinclair again and knew he’d liked that she’d blundered, judging by that smile.

  “I stole him back. I promised him I would give him more mouths to feed, and he saw reason.” Sinclair uttered a little sigh. “It was nice seeing you at my table again.”

  “There were other people, too.”

  “Yes, but I could tell we shared the same opinions more often than not during the discussions I heard, and you knew what I was thinking even from a distance. I saw the glance you sent me, warning me to stop teasing your brother. Do not deny you did not do it.”

  Kitty chuckled softly. “It is a miracle he reached the end of the meal without flying off the handle. He never enjoyed having a servant hover over him.”

  “He was getting the hang of it before your marriage, so I am sure he will become used to it again. Why, in a year, I am sure he’ll be happily ringing the little silver bells when he visits.”

  Kitty looked away from Sinclair. That sounded like he was planning to include Percy in future events. She was happy for Percy, but also a little jealous perhaps. If she stayed in England, Percy might one day accept her and Sinclair were lovers, as Susanna never could have.

  Her heart pinched a little bit, remembering the truth she’d omitted yesterday. Sinclair clearly missed his sister, and she did not want to change his memory of her by revealing her ugly nature.

  Her eyes fell on another painting just behind Sinclair’s, one almost hidden away beside a window drape. It was most likely a scene depicting Sinclair’s country seat again, but she was not sure of its exact location at first glance. The colors were darker, and it gave her chills just to look at it. She was confident that Susanna had painted it though. “Your sister was a prolific artist.”

  He turned to look at the work she studied over his shoulder, and his smile was strained when he faced her again. “One of her last paintings of home.”

  She glanced around the room, sensing altogether stronger emotions at play in the image than in the rest of them. “It’s different from the others.”

  “I know. Susanna told me she had painted what must be. I didn’t understand what she meant; I still do not. It is not my favorite of her work, but I keep it to remember her by, like all the rest.”

  Kitty moved for a better view—and a sense of foreboding went through her when she got up close. “This is the stone footbridge over the brook on the east of the estate. I used to cross it whenever I came to see her or leave.”

  Sinclair was suddenly beside her. “You crossed it to come see me, too.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Every time.”

  “I should like to have had her paint you standing on that bridge, then. Some of our best kisses were conducted in that very spot under the cloak of darkness.”

  Kitty narrowed her eyes as she stared beyond the bridge to the trees. “There is a figure there. In the shadows.”

  She pointed it out to him, and he grunted. “I think you are right. How did I miss that after all this time staring at it?”

  Kitty rubbed her arms and turned away, sure she had just received a warning from beyond the grave.

  That very spot was where Susanna Berringer had spoken her mind about Kitty’s unsuitability. Kitty had fled in tears into the growing dark and had never crossed that bridge again.

  She looked around suddenly. Percy, standing with his arm around his daughter, caught her eye. When he tipped his head toward the door, she nodded. They had come here together, and he wanted to leave. Kitty did very much, too, all of a sudden.

  She turned to Sinclair. “Well, it’s been lovely but I really must be on my way.”

  “So soon?”

  “My niece is very tired. I promised Percy the use of my carriage tonight to take them home. I must go with them now.” She held out her hand to him. “Thank you for a delightful evening.”

  That painting caught her eye again, and she shuddered. Some memories refused to go away, no matter how she tried to forget.

  Sinclair caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “We must do this again very soon.”

  He escorted Kitty all the way to the drawing room door, bid Percy goodbye and Felicity a good night, and let her go. Kitty looked back once at the threshold.

  One of Sinclair’s servants was whispering in his ear again. Sinclair was not happy. Not at all, she would wager.

  Chapter 15

  Sinclair rocked his great-niece Is
abel in his arms, her tiny blonde head pressed against his shoulder as she protested and grumbled the need to fall asleep despite the late hour. He wiped the tiny tears from her eyes and smiled at her folly. “You are in fine form tonight, sweet little girl,” he scolded her gently as he paced toward the window and glanced out onto dark, empty streets. “What would Grandmamma have to say if she could see you now, eh? She would not be pleased one bit by your antics, I will tell you. She had no great love of disturbance.”

  At the sound of his words, the child grew quieter. An occasional whimper left her lips as he continued to talk of his twin and pace the nursery. “You grandmamma was an advocate of ten hours sleep a night. Never let me hear the end of it if I woke up too early. She really could be quite a grouch about the business of sleeping. Just like you.”

  As he passed the other cot in the room, he cast an eye over the sleeping occupant. Young Edward could sleep through anything, just like his father, Lord Hallam. Only Isabel complained that her day must be over. She was a handful, just as Sinclair’s sister was rumored to have been for the nursemaids.

  He could not love his family more for the gift of these children to brighten his days. Having none of his own, he was free to spoil each and every one as much as he liked. They made him feel both young and old. Often at the same time.

  Family brought such happy energy to his life that he’d once thought them enough.

  But not now. There was Kitty, but also Teddy, too—wherever the young man was tonight. Sinclair fervently hoped Teddy was safe.

  The last Sinclair, or anyone, had seen of the young man was two nights ago now.

  He turned at a sound behind him, hoping it was Teddy summoned by his thoughts. Instead, he found his butler, leaning a little wearily on his feet.

  “Anything?” Sinclair demanded.

  “Still not a sign. I sent men to the closest coaching houses, and there is no hint he went there. The fellows I sent to the more distant establishments have not returned yet.”