The Bachelor Duke (The Bachelor Series Book 1)

by Cecilia Rene

  ”You were so eager to touch it; I did not want you to miss the opportunity. Usually, I would not suggest touching a wild deer, but I saw no harm in it since these are so accustomed to people being in the park.” He gazed around, and his shoulders relaxed. “Earlier you mentioned your home, Hill Manor. I remember your father telling me that it sits at the very top of a hill?”

  “It does indeed! It is rather bothersome really. Though it isn’t that far above the rest of Richmond, it has always stood out. When we were girls, Julia and I would roll down the back of the house until we were exhausted, or her maid, Helena, would march us inside for a bath.” She laughed at the memory.

  “You two seem very close. How long has she lived with you?”

  They began walking slowly, finding Julia and the marquess perched on a bench ahead of them.

  “Since we were girls of seven years. We were born only three months apart at Hill Manor. My mother often jests that we were inseparable at birth, and when we left to return to London, both of us apparently cried until we were reunited again. But sometimes my mother has a tendency to exaggerate.”

  He chuckled at her, a teasing smile on his lips. “Mothers tend to enjoy over exaggerating. My mother does the same to me. It is rather unnerving as I’m a man of eight and twenty, and a duke!” It was obvious by his smirk that he was very fond of the former Duchess of Karrington.

  “If I may ask, how long has Lady Diana been in your family?” Livie’s voice was gentle as she waited for his reaction. Unlike Julia, she wasn’t abreast to all of society’s gossip and was curious about the relationship between stepmother and son.

  Contemplating her question, he gestured toward the available bench so that she could take a seat. Dutifully obeying his silent request, she sat before briefly turning to eye Julia as she explained something to the marquess. Her hands moved above her head in an animated expression, causing him to laugh loudly at her antics.

  Turning toward Abigail, Livie caught her raised eyebrow and the cheeky grin on her lips from the bench across from where she sat. Livie rolled her eyes and turned back toward her companion once she was assured that all of her acquaintances were occupied. The duke took the empty seat beside her, his back straight and shoulders rigid.

  The duke gave her a hesitant look before taking a deep breath. “My mother, Eliza, died in childbirth when I was eight. She and my sister did not survive.” His voice was filled with sorrow, and he took a moment to compose himself. “My father refused to name the child, but my stepmother insisted that my mother wanted to name her Claudia, and so that is the name we gave her.”

  Tears blurred Livie’s vision as she tried to fathom the idea of someone not wanting to name an innocent child that had perished. Before she could stop them, tears fell her cheeks for the loss of his loved ones. The thought of him as a little boy, who lost his mother and sister on the same day all alone with a cruel father, caused a deep melancholy to fill her.

  Gently placing one of his gloved hands on her cheek, he wiped away her tears with his thumb. His touch scorched her very soul, and she craved more of it.

  “Do not cry for me, Livie,” he whispered her name as reverently as a prayer in the middle of a lightning storm.

  “How can I not? To experience such loss at a young age seems unimaginable to me.” She placed her hand on top of his.

  “It was. However, I had Mother Di, who has always treated me as if I was her own son.” His voice was full of love for the woman who raised him.

  “Mother Di?” she asked curiously.

  “Yes, it’s what I called her when I was a boy after she married my father. The name hasn’t changed over the years.”

  She smiled at him. It filled her heart with joy knowing that he had Lady Diana as a mother figure.

  Their eyes remained locked until a loud cough interrupted them. Removing her hand quickly, Livie looked over at Abigail, who hastily looked away trying to avoid eye contact.

  “You must forgive Abigail. She’s under strict orders from Mother to be a dutiful chaperone.” Livie gave her maid a stern glare before turning back to the duke. She understood that Abigail was doing what her mother instructed, but really, coughing was a bit much.

  “I understand. Your mother will be happy to know she is effective,” he teased, leaning closer to Livie.

  “Yes, because there is much mischief we can get into out in the open with half of society around us.” She scanned the large park, noticing several gazes on them, as usual.

  “One can always find ways to be mischievous if they wish.” He placed his hand over hers where it was hidden from watchful eyes.

  She gave him a coy smile. “Perhaps you are the naughty one.”

  His eyes sparkled as he leaned into her again. “I definitely am, my Livie.”

  It’s official the Bachelor Duke is in a courtship with one Lady O.

  Oh my.

  Following behind a giggling Heartford and Lady Julia, Remington and Lady Olivia walked the path back to her townhome in comfortable silence.

  The maid trailed behind the group, not paying any attention to them. Remington made a note to speak with Heartford about their deportment while out in plain view of society’s ever-watchful eye.

  It seemed that neither him nor his friend could control themselves around the St. John ladies.

  And while his own inscrutable behavior in Hyde Park would surely cause tongues to wag, Remington could not be ashamed of his time spent with Lady Olivia—Livie. Seeing the color that formed on her cheeks when he called her by the name only her family was at liberty to use, caused passion to stir inside of him. He longed to spend his life whispering it against the soft expanse of her neck while being buried deep inside of her.

  It was a strange feeling for him to enjoy her presence so immensely when he was certain he was only willing to court her for one reason—to protect her from Baron Bromswell.

  But now his motives seemed rather glib, the reason behind wanting to protect her now seemed superficial to him. He couldn’t deny he wanted her, wanted to know every part of her, to spend his nights discovering her passion in ways only a husband would know.

  A husband. He wasn’t sure if he could be a husband to her. The only thing that he knew for certain was that he could not allow Baron Bromswell anywhere near her.

  “Pray tell, Your Grace—”

  “Remington. Please call me Remington when we are alone, Livie,” he whispered her name as if he was meant to say it for the rest of eternity.

  “I’m sure we will never be alone, Your Grace. Between my mother and father, we’re sure to always have Abigail with us.” She gave him a cheeky look, a smile on her plump lips.

  “Ahh, but we are practically alone now, my Livie. All of our companions are engrossed in their own entertainment.” he teased her, enjoying the reddening of her cheeks.

  To prove his point, he tilted his head toward the couple in front of them and then he turned his head to glance back at Abigail. Livie followed his movements.

  Giving her a knowing smile, he shrugged his shoulders. “See, practically alone.”

  “Very well … Remington.” Her mellifluous voice caused pleasure to run through him, straight to a certain part of his anatomy.

  “Thank you, Livie,” he said, enjoying the redness in her cheek that reminded him of roses in the spring.

  Clearing her throat, she glanced up at him. “Tell me more about Hemsworth Place. The marquess was telling us that you all have been friends since childhood, and he often visited.”

  “When we were younger, he and Windchester would often spend entire summers there while our parents were off gallivanting around England. There is not a single room we all do not know as if it were our very own,” he said as they grew closer to her townhome.

  They grew closer to her home, causing nerves to fill him at the thought of speaking to Hempstead about courting his only daughter; after all, he was known as the Bachelor Duke. Remington knew that Hemsptead was a private man and, like him, a
bhorred the gossip. So, allowing his only daughter in a courtship with a man, who was at the forefront of society’s gossip, would be a hardship.

  “Do you spend more time at Hemsworth Place or in town—” Her question was abruptly interrupted when a small child barreled between them causing Livie to release his arm.

  He turned to reach out for her but was stopped by the child’s nursemaid running after the wayward child. “I do apologize!” she called behind her without stopping her hurried pace.

  His heart stopped as Livie lost her balance and tumbled toward the fairway where a carriage was coming toward her at a fast pace. Without thinking of his own safety, Remington dashed toward her. He thought of nothing or no one but saving her. His muscles ached with the quickness of his movements. When he reached her, he could see the carriage coming toward them, feel the horses’ breath on his face.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he took hold of her and wrenched her out of harm’s way. The carriage hurried past them sending dirt and dust their way.

  “Oh, dear lord.” Livie’s voice was frantic. She clung to Remington, who held her around the waist and close to his chest.

  She rested her head on his chest, her shoulders heaving in exhaustion. Her bonnet was now skewed on top of her head.

  Remington rubbed his hands up and down her back trying to soothe her nerves. “Are you well?” he asked urgently, his face buried in her hair, his hands still safely around her.

  “Yes … yes, thank you—” Her words were interrupted by Abigail and Lady Julia running to her.

  “Livie, are you alright! You could’ve been killed.” Lady Julia shouted and clutched at her chest as she ran over to her cousin.

  “Well done, Karrington.” Heartford slapped his back in appreciation, quirking a brow at him.

  Remington realized that his arms were still firmly wrapped around Livie. Finally, he released her into the care of her cousin and maid.

  His heart wouldn’t slow, and he felt as if he was going to be sick at the thought of her nearly dying. The thought that he could have lost her caused sheer terror to fill him. He couldn’t lose someone else like he lost his mother. He wanted to keep Livie close to him and never let her leave his side.

  He relaxed marginally as the ladies fussed over Livie. He focused on the fact that she was alive and well. His hungry eyes roamed her, looking for any sign of injury.

  Breathing in deeply, he let the panic he felt moments ago leave him, taking comfort in the fact that he was able to reach her in time. Livie looked over at him momentarily, catching him in her stormy gaze, and he knew that he would risk himself a thousand times if it meant saving her.

  “Lady Olivia, are you alright?” Her maid brushed the dirt off of Livie’s pelisse.

  “How utterly terrifying you must have been,” Lady Julia said, holding on to her cousin’s hand.

  “I am fine, just a little shaken.” She gave everyone a forced smile and blinked repeatedly.

  Remington saw her distress and took her by the arm. “Let’s get you home, so that you can rest.”

  “Yes, I fear after that excitement, I am eager to sit.” She straightened out her bonnet before she draped her arm around his.

  “Of course.” He took her by the elbow and escorted her away from everyone. They walked in front of their small group, leading the way to her townhome.

  “Finish telling me about Hemsworth Place. I fear I need something to distract my mind from almost being trampled.” Her voice quivered slightly.

  “Of course, whatever will help.” He squeezed her elbow.

  Exhaling loudly, he tried to ignore the melancholy that had taken over him. “Currently, the estate is going through renovations. I have just hired a new head gardener who plans to expand the gardens and add a conservatory.”

  He was proud of the modifications he was overseeing at his home. Growing up, the ancestral estate was a constant reminder of his father’s cruelty. As the years went by, new memories replaced older, more horrific ones. Looking over at his Livie, he hoped and prayed he would not be like his father.

  If she ever became his wife, he would cherish her but how could he force himself to marry her knowing the cruelty of his past. But God help him, he wanted her, of that he was certain.

  “That sounds divine, Remington. Do you miss it terribly?” She gripped his forearm with her free hand.

  “I do. It gives me great joy to work on my estate. I cannot wait to share every acre with you—” He stopped abruptly at his blunder.

  They finally reached her home, a three-story white mansion with casement windows that were hinged to the side and opened outward.

  “I would love nothing more.” Lady Olivia’s smile was spellbinding as she stared up at him, momentarily rendering him unable to form words.

  The door opened, and the aged butler greeted them. Not wanting to delay, Remington faced him, heedless of propriety. “Where may I find Lord Hempstead?”

  “He is in his study,” the butler answered briskly.

  “Lady Olivia come let’s get you cleaned up.” Her maid took Livie by the hand, leading her away.

  “This way, please, Your Grace.” The butler walked down the hall.

  Remington adjusted his waistcoat, taking in the art that lined the hallway. A painting of Hempstead, Lady Hempstead, and a young Lady Olivia, sat in the middle of a lavish wall.

  Stopping, Remington observed the younger Lady Olivia, taking in her bright gray eyes, long blonde hair, and full lips. She was a vision, even as a child. He smiled at the image of a little girl with his dark hair and her gray eyes. Quickly, he shook his head, trying to compose himself.

  “Your Grace?” The butler stood by a large, walnut door with dark patterns woven in the aged wood.

  Taking a deep breath, Remington walked toward the door, allowing the butler to open it and announce him. Walking into the office, he took in the masculine décor, dark blue drapes hung to the floor, shelves and shelves of books and figurines surrounded the room, and a large, old grandfather clock stood proudly in the corner. The desk was covered with ledgers, and a small miniature likeness of Lady Hempstead sat on the edge of the desk, perfectly placed so her husband could gaze at her periodically.

  The office was so unlike what his father’s office was or even Remington’s current one. A jolt of longing filled him, as his gaze stayed glued on Lady Hempstead’s likeness, so much like her daughter’s.

  From behind the large desk, Hempstead stood to greet him. “Karrington. I’m pleasantly surprised that you are willing to give up your bachelorhood.”

  Remington avoided eye contact. He had never wanted to be a bachelor—he had to be, but no more. “That makes two of us, but she has beguiled me, and I find myself in strange territory.”

  He felt like a green boy, instead of one of the most powerful dukes in England, all because of stormy gray eyes and round hips. He had no choice but to protect her from Bromswell, she did not deserve the cruelty he would bestow upon her.

  Remington could not deny the undeniable pull he had to her. The beauty she possessed captivated him every single time he was in her presence. That alone gave him cause to protect her from the dangers of being the baron’s wife.

  When he was friends with Bromswell all those years ago, the young baron had a preference for beautiful, flawless women. Remington learned early on that his former friend liked to leave his mark. It was no secret that his coffers were empty, making Lady Olivia a prime target.

  “You wish to court Lady Olivia?” the earl asked, as if he wanted to reassure himself of Remington’s intentions.

  “I do. I would also like to be her only suitor.” Remington’s gaze never left the earl’s. He wanted to be sure that no other man would be in the same vicinity as his Livie. She was his now, and he would make sure that everyone knew.

  “I see. And is she agreeable?” Hempstead stood and walked to the sideboard to pour two glasses of cognac.

  His shoulders were tense as Remington watched his associat
e closely. Although, Hempstead was a great many years his elder, he did consider the man a friend and knew this wasn’t easy for him. She was his only daughter.

  “She is agreeable to the courtship.” Remington took the offered glass of cognac. “Thank you.”

  Hempstead took a hearty drink then sat back at his desk. “I will not object if this is what she wants, but I must know. Why her? You could have anyone.”

  Remington shifted uncomfortably under the concerned father’s watchful gaze.

  “I do not want anyone else.” The statement was said simply, but Remington was surprised at how true it felt. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he hadn’t wanted anyone else. The reality of the statement shook him to his very core.

  “I will not object if this is what Lady Olivia wants. I’m just concerned about the gossips and society’s obsession with you.”

  “I have no control over that. It has long been my cross to bear.” The annoying gossips had been a constant in his life since he was a small boy. He had never become accustomed to them.

  “I understand that. However, I will ask one thing of you.” The earl’s voice was firm.

  “Of course.” Remington maintained eye contact, although sitting across from the earl made him feel like a small boy again in trouble in his father’s office. No matter how small his actions were, they always resulted in a beating.

  “Do not hurt her.”

  The words hung in the air between them, alerting Remington to the fact that it was a warning, not between two friends, but between a father and the man who wanted to court his most precious daughter.

  And he knew not to take it lightly.

  “I would not dare.”

  He would do everything in his power not to.

  Everything.

  Have we finally lost the Bachelor Duke? I’m sure mothers and daughters are crying all over England. Do not give up just yet ladies, Lady O may not be worthy. Time will tell.

  Livie sat at the chessboard analyzing her father’s latest move. She’d bested him twice in a row, and now it would be a third time as she made her move to capture his king. After she placed the king dutifully on her side, she smirked.