Duke of Her Own, A

by Lorraine Heath

  “I am not what you need,” she whispered. “I have all of eight pounds to my name. I am not who you want, I am not the one you were expecting to arrive in the library last night. Only a few people know what occurred, and they will hold their tongues. My reputation is intact. No reason remains to take drastic measures.”

  “And if you are with child?” he ground out.

  She stared at him. “But…” She couldn’t find the words. “But it only happened once.”

  He leaned nearer. “That, sweetheart, is all it takes.”

  Her knees were suddenly weak, and her legs had no more consistency than her morning porridge. She must have looked on the verge of swooning, because his hand was suddenly supporting her, and he was leading her to a couch. As soon as she was near enough, she sank onto the stuffed cushions.

  He knelt before her. “Surely you are not that innocent.”

  Pressing her hand to her mouth, she shook her head. “My mother never spoke of such things to me before she died. I had a notion of what occurred, but I was unclear on the particulars. And who was there for me to ask? Alex?”

  With gentleness she’d not have expected of him, he reached out and, with his fingers, feathered stray strands of her hair back from her face. “So now you see the need for us to wed.”

  Again, she shook her head. “Not unless I’m with child. When will I know?”

  “Not for a few months. The fact that there is a possibility that you are with child means we must wed now. I will have no scandal surrounding my heir.”

  “Your heir?”

  He grimaced, then winced. “Or my wife.”

  This was wrong. All of the reasons for him marrying her were wrong, and yet if she was with child, no reason was more compelling than protecting the child. She looked past him to the one person she’d never thought to turn to for advice. “Mrs. Rose, when and how will I know if I’m with child?”

  Mrs. Rose squared her shoulders as though about to face unpleasantness. “It is much easier for a woman to know for certain that she is not rather than that she is. There are signs I will not mention in front of gentlemen, but a doctor can’t confirm a lady’s delicate condition for a few months.”

  With the confirmation of Hawkhurst’s understanding of the situation, Louisa couldn’t help but wonder if he’d placed another lady in this predicament—and been unwilling to marry her. How else would he have known?

  Gathering her strength and conviction about her like a well-worn cloak, Louisa came to her feet, waited until Hawkhurst had also come to his. She met his gaze. “In a few months at the latest, Your Grace, I shall give you my answer.”

  With that, she walked out of the room that had become as quiet as a tomb.

  His mother would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself. He didn’t want people to know his child’s birth date and count backward, raise eyebrows, and give a pompous, knowing look.

  He threw the brandy to the back of his throat, felt it burn its way down.

  He’d wanted to rush after Louisa, drop to his knees in front of her, beg her to reconsider, but he had some pride when it came to his manhood. With both Rose men watching, he’d prepared to take his leave.

  Mrs. Rose had stepped forward to stop him. “It appears you are still on the market, Your Grace. Would you care to join us for breakfast?”

  He had politely declined.

  He had returned home to pace the quiet halls that were devoid of all servants except his valet. The man stayed with him, because he had a penchant for rat fight betting and with a run of luck he’d managed to put aside some money for a rainy afternoon. Hawk was beginning to wonder if the sun would ever again shine.

  He’d not handled the situation at all well. His face ached. His anger seethed just below the surface, anger at Louisa for coming to the library to begin with. If she had stayed away, his trousers would have remained buttoned, her skirts would have remained lowered.

  But she had waltzed into the room, a temptation beyond measure. The fire in his blood had instantly boiled. Have her once and be done with it. Conquer and move on.

  And yet he sat there tonight wanting her more than he’d ever wanted her.

  He poured more brandy into his glass and downed it.

  There could be only one explanation for his continued interest in her. He had yet to conquer her. She had refused his proposal. She had walked out on him.

  He heard the harsh laughter echoing around him, realizing belatedly that it was his own.

  The woman was driving him to madness.

  He had possessed her, and when he walked into the Rose study he should have been barely aware of her existence. Instead, he had been conscious of every subtle nuance: her fragrance, her hair simply pulled back and held in place with a ribbon. The slight redness in her eyes that told him she’d been weeping. The touch of her fingers against his chin had shot desire straight down to the heels of his shoes. Jeremy Rose had been right not to leave, because Hawk had wanted nothing more than to take Louisa into his arms and have her again.

  Slowly, he wanted to take his fill of her. Remove every stitch of clothing.

  Their coming together had been unsatisfying in its swiftness. If he could have her but once more at his leisure, then he would never need her again. Once more. That was all that he required.

  Acquiring that, with her present attitude, seemed impossible.

  He was splashing more brandy into his glass when he became aware of the footsteps. Since he was without a proper butler, his friends were in the habit of simply coming into his home as though it were theirs.

  He glanced over at Falconridge. “Fetch a glass.”

  His slurred words surprised him. How much had he drunk already?

  “Good God, what happened to your face?”

  “It ran into a fist. Two actually.”

  “The rumors are true then?”

  He twisted his head around, forced himself to focus his attention on Falconridge. He did wish the man would quit swaying. It made it appear as though there were two of him, darting in and out of hiding. “What rumors?”

  “That you compromised Lady Louisa and will soon be taking her to wife.”

  “Ravensley tell you that?”

  “No. I heard it at the club. Wagers are being made on the precise date when the nuptials will take place.”

  Hawk sat upright too fast. His head spun, and he thought he might be ill. “They’re discussing Lady Louisa at the club?”

  “Did I not just say that?”

  Hawk dug his elbows into his thighs, buried his face in his hands. “How did they hear?”

  “Haven’t a clue.”

  “Ravensley.”

  “Why would he implicate his good friend and his sister in a scandal?”

  Hawk lifted his head slightly and peered at Falconridge over his fingertips. “Only the Roses, Louisa, Ravensley, and I knew what had transpired. I alerted him this morning that I’d asked for her hand, and she denied me. He is the only one with anything to gain.”

  “No offense intended, but I don’t see how acquiring you as a brother-in-law can be considered a gain.”

  “It eliminates me permanently as competition for Jenny Rose.”

  Falconridge appeared adequately horrified. “You can’t be serious.”

  “There can be no other explanation. It is appalling what we will do for money.”

  Falconridge turned and stared at the cold and empty hearth. “I daresay that I don’t know if I’ve ever heard truer words spoken.”

  “He’s returned.”

  Louisa looked up from the invitations she’d been perusing. Jenny stood in the doorway to her bedchamber. “Who’s returned?”

  “The Duke of Hawkhurst. I think he’s come to ask for your hand in marriage again.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because he wants to see you, and he has brought you a small gift.”

  “Tell him I’m not at home.” She lowered her gaze to the invitations. Much to her
astonishment, Mrs. Rose had not immediately dismissed her because of the unfortunate incident, and Louisa needed to arrange a schedule of activities for the girls for next week.

  “I think you should hear what he has to say.”

  Louisa lifted her gaze. “Why? I’ve made my position perfectly clear.”

  “What is the worst that could happen if you marry him?”

  “The worst is that I could be married to a rake and a scoundrel. He has admitted that the only thing that appeals to him is the chase. Well, I was well and truly caught, without even having experienced the pursuit. I see no point in entertaining him further.”

  “I don’t think he’s as bad as all that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  She laughed. “The way he looks at me? As though I’m the irritating younger sister of his good friend. Or his past good friend. I’m not even certain that Alex was incensed by what happened. If not for the kindness of your brother, I would have been totally without support. And that hurts as well if I’m truthful about it.”

  “As well it should. I expected better of your brother.” She stepped farther into the room. “I fear I’m partly to blame for what happened, and I’m not sure why. Your brother informed me of Hawkhurst’s plans. He knew I had no intention of going to the library, so I don’t know why he sent you to rescue me when he knew I was in no need of rescue.”

  Disappointment roiled through Louisa. Her brother had betrayed her much more thoroughly than she’d thought. It made no sense. Why would he do that?

  “I did not see you in the ballroom.”

  “I must admit to having a weakness where sampling passion is concerned. The duke is a very virile man and I was incredibly tempted to taste what he was offering, but I wanted no more than a taste. I did not wish to eat the entire meal, so I asked Falconridge to take me on a turn about the garden—to remove temptation.”

  Louisa sighed. “I wish you’d confided in me.”

  “I should have, and I’m sorry I didn’t, but I thought my not going to the library would put an end to the duke’s pursuit.”

  “You did not want him pursuing you, but you think I should marry him?”

  “As I said, he looks at you far differently than he looks at me. I truly believe you shouldn’t discount his feelings. He brought you a gift, Louisa. It’s so incredibly romantic.”

  “Nothing he can say will change my mind.”

  “Then where is the harm in seeing him?”

  The harm was that he could possibly melt her resolve. No, she could be strong. She would be strong. She set the invitations aside. “Very well.”

  She followed Jenny down the hallway and stairs to the foyer. Jeremy, ever her protector, was scowling at the duke.

  As she neared, Louisa felt her heart tighten at the sight of Hawkhurst. The bruises on his face had deepened to a ghastly purple, and she thought his eye might be more swollen than before. He was holding a small paper sack. Recognizing the emblem drawn on it, she couldn’t help but smile.

  “What have you there, Your Grace?”

  “A small token of…my esteem. A dozen toffees.”

  “And here I’d taken a fancy to brandy balls.”

  His mouth curved upward, and he grimaced. “I beg of you, do not make me smile.”

  “Your bruises look quite painful.”

  He shifted his gaze to Jeremy. “They have served their purpose exceedingly well. I was wondering if we might take a turn about the garden.”

  “Jeremy and I will be more than happy to serve as chaperones,” Jenny said.

  “I don’t require a chaperone,” Louisa said.

  “From the likes of him, I think you do,” Jeremy said.

  Louisa rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Very well. If you’ll come with me, Your Grace.”

  She gave the sack to the butler with instructions to have it delivered to her bedchamber. Then she led the way into the garden with Jenny and Jeremy trailing behind them. The duke did not offer his arm, but rather walked with his hands clasped behind his back. Night had fallen, and the gaslights created a muted glow that served to create an intimacy that reminded her of their first kiss in a garden.

  “It seems our indiscretion is the talk of London,” he said quietly after a time.

  She stopped walking and stared at him. “You told—”

  “I’ve told no one. Falconridge heard the rumors. He came by to confirm them.”

  She sighed. “Damnation.”

  “My sentiment exactly.”

  She thought she heard humor laced in his voice, when there was certainly nothing humorous about this situation.

  “Be that as it may, the rumors change nothing,” she said.

  “They change everything. Your reputation is in tatters—”

  “Which would only make a difference if I cared, and I don’t.”

  “Well, I do care!”

  She heard a footstep, turned, and held up a hand to stop Jeremy’s advance. “It’s all right.”

  “You speak to her with respect.”

  “I’m trying. She’s a bit on the stubborn side and doesn’t seem to be hearing what I’m saying.” Hawkhurst turned back to her. “Less than a month ago, you were concerned that if you recommended me to your charges, your reputation would be suspect. How can you say now that your reputation does not matter? Do you think you will not be let go? Do you think you will be able to find another position? And even if our actions have not effectively ruined your chances of continuing on as a chaperone, how can we not take action when our sins could very well cause our child to suffer? If we marry posthaste, we can limit the damage.”

  Our child. Our child. Our child.

  Louisa wrapped her arms tightly around herself, suddenly dizzy. “If I’m not with child, we are both condemned to a life of misery.”

  With his thumb and forefinger, he took hold of her chin and tilted her head back until she was forced to look into his eyes. “We are condemned anyway. My behavior has sullied my reputation as a gentleman. I will no longer be welcomed in the finer homes, and I shall be labeled exactly as you view me—unsuitable to be the husband of an heiress. While you, sweetheart, will no longer be a woman of independent means. Mrs. Rose is certain to dismiss you once she learns of the rumors going around. Tell her,” he ground out.

  “I’m afraid he’s right,” Jeremy said quietly. “It pains me to say it, but with last night’s encounter being whispered about…you are well and truly ruined.”

  “You will not be able to find another position in another household,” Hawkhurst added. “No one will hire a chaperone who was caught in a compromising position, just as no one would hire a servant who has been caught pilfering the silver.”

  She’d never known such despair. Her career as a social chaperone was coming to an end with ugly accusations and innuendo. What was left to her? Nothing.

  She was not certain she could force herself to live under the same roof as Alex. He’d known she was in the library, and he’d brought Jeremy to it. Why?

  Without a position she had no funds. She would be on the street. And if she were with child…

  “But you don’t love me,” she said to Hawkhurst, hoping, praying, wishing that he would deny the charge, even a bit.

  “Love is not something I required for a marriage.”

  “Well, I did. I’m not like Jenny, requiring only passion.”

  “It is not a half-poor substitute.” He glanced over his shoulder, his voice filled with anger. “Could you at least step beyond hearing?”

  Jenny and Jeremy backed up several paces, and Hawkhurst turned back to Louisa. “I won’t say it won’t be difficult, because it will be. I will not say it is what I want, because it is not. But I think you could say the same. Marriage to me is obviously not what you want.”

  She heard him swallow.

  “But in the past few weeks, I have come to gain an appreciation for your determination and your ability to take charge of your life. You have a strength of character and str
ength of purpose that I believe would serve our marriage well. I’m fully aware that I gain the most with this arrangement, but I promise you that I would not hinder you in any ventures you wished to pursue. My weaknesses have brought us to this, and I shall spend the remainder of my life making it up to you.” He dropped down to one knee, took her hand in both of his, and looked up at her. “Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She felt the tears burn her eyes, could hardly see him through their thickness. Dear Lord, such a proud man down on bended knee, in front of Jeremy Rose, in front of a man who would never have to bow down to anyone.

  She could not refuse so heartfelt a request. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Yes,” she rasped.

  Pressing his lips to the back of her hand, he said in a low voice, “Thank you.”

  With her free hand, she touched his bent head, threading her fingers through his thick hair. Everything would be all right. She would do everything in her power to see it was so.

  Chapter 15

  “I’m marrying Hawkhurst.”

  Alex met Louisa’s announcement with little more than a nod. Looking slovenly with his clothes wrinkled and askew, he lounged in a chair, one leg bent, one outstretched. He’d barely acknowledged her when she’d walked into the room.

  “You smell like a brewery,” she said.

  “Pray tell, dear sister. How do you know what a brewery smells like?”

  “I know the odor of alcohol, and I assume a brewery is merely the odor intensified. You are also sorely in need of a bath.”

  “If I had a valet, perhaps I could have a bath. The servants have all abandoned me.”

  “Poor, poor Alex. You keep waiting for life to happen to you. Don’t you see? You must take charge, you must make—”

  “I did!” he yelled coming to his feet, wavering, and dropping back into the chair. “I did take charge.”

  “What did you do?”

  Shaking his head, he looked away.