She didn’t know very much about children. Her friend had recently had a baby, and while the chubby-cheeked infant had been quite cute to look at, Athena had been terrified to hold him for fear of dropping the poor thing on its head. Instead she’d cooed and waved a rattle in front of his face, which he had seemed to enjoy, but she doubted the same entertainment would suffice for an eleven-year-old.
Rapping her fist against the door, she stepped back to wait for it to open.
She didn’t have to wait very long.
“Oh thank goodness you’re here,” a short, stocky maid gasped in relief as she threw open the door and all but dragged Athena into a room awash with sunlight and pink. “I thought I was going to have to watch her all day. God bless you, miss. God bless you.”
On that rather ominous note she fled, leaving Athena alone in the nursery with a young girl who could have been the duke’s miniature if not for her delicate features and honey blonde hair. She sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by stuffed bears, and she looked up and smiled when Athena approached.
“Hello,” she chirped. “My friends and I are having a tea party. Would you like to join us?”
“I would.” Wondering what had gotten the maid in such a tizzy – a tea party with bears in fancy hats was hardly grounds for hysteria – Athena returned the girl’s smile. “You must be Lady Victoria. It is very nice to meet you. Where should I sit?”
“Anywhere you’d like. Just not there,” Victoria said when Athena started to sit down beside a furry black bear wearing a white hat and pearl necklace. “Lady Cherryblossom doesn’t like new governesses.”
Athena lifted a brow. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” Victoria’s smile dimmed. “She thinks they smell peculiar.”
“And here I thought it was bears who smelled peculiar.” Having been a belligerent child herself, Athena immediately recognized the same belligerence in Victoria which was why she ignored her request and deliberately sat down beside Lady Cherryblossom. “What are we having today?” she asked, helping herself to an empty teacup.
“Banbury cakes and spice orange tea.” Lifting a beautiful sterling silver teapot, Victoria pretended to pour some tea into Athena’s cup and placed an invisible cake upon her saucer.
“Spice orange tea?” Pinching her fingers together, she took a pretend bite of the pretend cake. “I’ve never heard of that kind before. What’s in it?”
The child’s lip curled. “Oranges and spices. Obviously.”
“I see.” No wonder the maid ran out of here in tears, Athena thought silently. You have them all terrified, don’t you? Well, good luck getting rid of me so easily. “An excellent combination, as it is quite delicious. Tell me, Lady Victoria, what are some things you like to do for fun?”
“I don’t know.” Her expression taking on a sullen quality, the duke’s daughter plucked at a loose thread in the rug. “Father doesn’t let me do anything.”
Well that sounded painfully familiar. When Athena was Victoria’s age, her parents hadn’t let her do anything either.
No, you cannot do that.
No, you cannot touch that.
No, you cannot say that.
No, no, no.
As a result she had become a high strung, difficult child who often acted out in a desperate attempt to be free of the constraints placed upon her.
Not unlike Victoria.
“That’s unfortunate.” Finishing her cake, she feigned brushing crumbs off her lap. “If you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?”
“I don’t know,” Victoria muttered, looking down at the floor.
“Come now,” she coaxed with an encouraging smile. “Surely there’s one thing. When I was your age there was a pond not too far from our house. I always wanted to swim in it, but my parents refused to let me. It’s too dirty, they said, and there are frogs and fish and all manner of wet, slimy creatures.”
Victoria lifted her head. “I like frogs.”
“I rather suspected you would.”
“What did you do?” Her eyes big and wide, Victoria leaned forward, hanging earnestly upon Athena’s every word. “Did you swim in the pond even though your parents forbade it?”
“Of course I did. And nearly drowned for my trouble. As it turns out, you should know how to swim before you jump into the deep end of a pond.” She shook her head at the memory. “It was foolish of me, and I paid for my troubles by spending the next two weeks locked in my room.”
Victoria frowned. “That sounds horrible.”
“It was,” Athena agreed. “But I learned my lesson.”
“You didn’t swim in the pond again?”
“Oh, I did. I just had one of the maids teach me how to swim first.” She exchanged a mischievous smile with her charge, whose sullenness had all but disappeared to reveal a sweet-natured child who just needed a little more freedom. “Why don’t we–”
But she did not get to finish for the door suddenly opened to reveal the Duke of Blackburn.
The man, Athena thought irritably, was forever interrupting her. But then she got a good look at him, and all of her irritation faded away.
No, the duke wasn’t angelically handsome. She stood by her first impression.
But damned he wasn’t the most striking devil she’d ever seen.
He’d changed from his earlier attire into a navy tailcoat that brought out the blue in his eyes and tan breeches that hugged every inch of his lean, muscular thighs. He wore a black top hat tugged low over his brow, dark hair curling out beneath it. Hessians polished to a sharp gleam came up to his knees and were accented with silver spurs engraved with his initials. His snow white cravat was run through with a gold pin that matched the buttons on his waistcoat and the cufflinks on his sleeves. In one gloved hand he carried a walking stick topped with a silver handle, and in the other...
“Is that a frog?” she exclaimed with no small amount of delight. “We were just talking about frogs! How adorable.”
The sight of an impeccably turned out duke holding an amphibian in his fist would have no doubt given most women pause, but then she was not most women. Let the fancy ladies have at their jewelry and furs; if a man wanted to impress Athena all he needed to do was bring her food or a small animal.
Preferably both at the same time.
“Yes,” Victoria said proudly. “I caught him yesterday by the...never mind,” she mumbled when she was met with her father’s disapproving stare.
“Tori has the unfortunate habit of collecting all sorts of unsavory creatures. You would do well to curb your enthusiasm and set a better example, Miss Dogwood.” Ambrose turned his cool stare to Athena, who returned it without blinking. She may have temporarily accepted the position of governess, but that did not mean she intended to be treated as a common servant.
If the duke thought to intimidate he was going to have to do a far better than an icy staring contest. She wasn’t an eleven-year-old girl to be easily cowed by a hard look, or a maid who trembled at the tiniest glare. She was an intelligent, independent woman who had defied her parents and sailed across an ocean. It was going to take more than a brooding duke holding a frog to defeat her willful spirit.
“It is my personal belief that children should be encouraged to show empathy for all creatures, regardless of their size or shape.” Rising to her feet, she walked fearlessly up to Ambrose and patted the frog on the tip of his pointy green nose. “What do you intend to do with the little fellow?”
“Tori and I are going to release him in the park.”
They were standing so close together that Athena felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek when he spoke. She dropped her hand and lifted her chin, discreetly studying his rigid countenance beneath a long sweep of pale lashes. As her gaze traveled across his face, it caught and held on a tiny white scar she hadn’t noticed in his study.
On most men the small but notable imperfection would have detracted from their physical appeal, but the mark only contributed to the
duke’s dark allure. The temptation to trace the small scar with her thumb was so great that she pinned her arms behind her back, nails creating crescent moons in the flesh of her palms as she curled her hands into fists.
Look but do not touch had been a favorite saying of her mother’s, and the warning echoed in the back of her mind when she looked up to see Ambrose staring down at her, his hawkish gaze impossible to read.
He was a cold one, the duke. Or so he would have liked everyone to believe. But even the thickest ice melted when it got too close to an open flame...and suddenly Athena was feeling very warm. Ambrose may have thought he’d put an end to any wayward notions of marriage when he made her Victoria’s governess, but if there was one thing he was going to quickly discover about her it was that she did not give up easily.
Perhaps if she was unmoved by him (as she’d been unmoved by all of her previous suitors) she would have conceded defeat, but one glance in his direction and her entire body began to hum. She knew he felt something as well, for why else would he so desperately be trying to pretend he didn’t? If the poor man clenched his jaw any harder he was going to crack a tooth.
“What park are you going to?” she asked. “I understand London has several.”
“Hyde,” Victoria answered from the corner of the room where she was dutifully putting her bears away on a shelf. “It’s the largest one, you know.”
“I did know that.” Athena’s trip to London may have been impulsive, but the voyage across the Atlantic had been long and she’d had all sorts of time to read about Hyde Park and The Royal Menagerie and Vauxhall Gardens, the latter of which she very much wanted to visit. Preferably under the cover of darkness and in the company of a certain duke.
“Would you care to go with us, Miss Dogwood?” Ambrose asked unexpectedly.
“I would,” she said, surprised – and pleased – by the invitation. The momentary flicker of confusion in the duke’s gaze indicated he was surprised as well, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
“Very good.” His expression guarded, he gestured towards the door. “After you.”
His husky baritone wrapped around Athena like a thick velvet cloak, causing a shiver to race down her spine and her toes to curl inwards.
Oh yes, she decided silently. There was definitely a spark there. And if her spine tingling and toe curling were any indication, it was quite bright. More of a small fire, really. One that would need only the tiniest nudge to set it ablaze.
All she needed to do was find the right match.
Chapter Five
They rode to the park in a shiny black curricle pulled by a matching team of grays. A soft breeze fluttered the ties on Athena’s bonnet as they navigated their way through Grosvenor Square. The gray, overcast morning had given way to a warm, sunny afternoon and the air smelled fresh and earthy. Daffodils were just beginning to emerge through dark, heavy soil. Song birds twittered happily as they swooped from tree to tree, carrying stolen pieces of twine and tufts of cotton they would use to build their nests. Pink blossoms covered the cherry trees, an irrefutable sign that winter had reached its dreary conclusion and spring had finally arrived, bringing with it the promise of renewal, growth, and possibility.
Athena glanced sideways at the duke. Twice she’d felt the searching weight of his gaze upon her but whenever she looked in his direction he was always staring straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to her very existence save the smallest tick in the corner of his jaw.
Victoria, her blonde hair covered by a pretty straw bonnet trimmed with flowers and lace, sat between the two adults. Blissfully unaware of the tension radiating over her head she chattered on about this and that, often standing halfway out of her seat to point at something that caught her interest before her father gruffly demanded she stay seated.
“I just wanted to look,” she exclaimed, her bottom lip jutting out.
“Miss Dogwood, please see to it that my daughter remains in her seat,” Ambrose ordered curtly. “It is far too dangerous to – Miss Dogwood, sit down!”
Athena, who had risen to see if she could catch a glimpse of the famous Serpentine Bridge as they approached Hyde Park, hastily sat back down and blinked innocently at the duke. “I just wanted to look.”
Ambrose growled.
Victoria giggled.
Athena grinned.
The park was crowded and noisy, the warm weather having brought out the masses in droves. A plethora of buggies and carriages and reckless young lords on horseback swarmed the narrow lanes, but Ambrose handled his team and the traffic with ease. He parked on the far side of a small pond in the shade of a large oak and helped his daughter down from the curricle, then offered his arm to Athena.
“Thank you.” Lightly resting her hand on his forearm, she navigated the step without issue. But when she started to follow Victoria, who had taken the frog to a patch of cattails for release, Ambrose stepped deftly into her path, countenance drawn into a formidable scowl.
“A private word, Miss Dogwood.”
“Of course.” A glance over his shoulder to ensure Victoria wasn’t in any danger of falling into the pond and then she gave her full attention to the duke. They stood facing one another in the dappled shade of the oak, the leaves still small enough to allow a generous amount of sun to spill through the tree’s branches. The light reflected off Ambrose’s hair, revealing a tint of dark auburn amidst the thick ebony curls.
“What would you care to discuss?” she asked.
“Your behavior.” He frowned down at her. “Whether you realize it or not, you are setting a poor example for Victoria to follow. As I am sure you are aware, having met her, she can be a headstrong, unruly child who is need of direction and discipline.”
“You are absolutely correct,” Athena agreed solemnly. “My parents gave me all sorts of direction and discipline, and look how brilliantly I turned out.”
Was it her imagination, or had the corners of his mouth just twitched?
“As her governess I expect you adhere to a certain decorum at all times. Can you do that, Miss Dogwood?” He gazed at her intently, blue eyes bold and piercing beneath furrowed brows. “Or should I look for someone else?”
“I thought there wasn’t anyone else to be had,” she quipped.
“Interviews for a suitable governess will begin shortly.”
Her head canted to the side. “You don’t find me suitable, Your Grace?”
“No, Miss Dogwood.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You are many things, but suitable is definitely not one of them.”
“I don’t know if I should take that as an insult or a compliment. A compliment,” she decided, her lips curving even as his frown deepened. And then, just because she wanted to see what he would do, she dared to reach out and trace one of the shiny gold buttons on his coat with the tip of her finger. “Suitability is so very predictable and boring, don’t you agree?”
His eyes darkened. “This behavior is most ill befitting of a governess, Miss Dogwood.”
“But I am only a temporary governess. You said so yourself. Surely different rules apply.” She started to walk her nails up his chest before he captured her wrist, his large hand wrapping all the way around the delicate bones in an ironclad grip.
“Be careful, Miss Dogwood,” he warned.
“Or what?” she breathed. “You’ll sack me, as you Brits say? You’re going to do that anyways. Unless you wanted to do it right now. No?” A knowing smirk lifted one side of her mouth when he remained cloaked in cold silence. “Somehow I didn’t think so. If you’d be kind enough to release me, Your Grace, I have governess duties to attend to.”
Giving a jaunty toss of her head, she turned and sauntered away.
The woman, Ambrose thought as he watched Athena crouch beside his daughter and help her release the frog into the cattails, was a menace.
An infuriating, beautiful, dangerous menace. He should have sacked her where she stood, but as soon as she had touched him the only thing he’d bee
n thinking about was how unfortunate it was they were in a public place.
If they’d been alone in his bedchamber...
If they’d been alone in his bedchamber she’d already be beneath him.
Furious with her, furious with himself, he strode back to the curricle to wait...and to hide his pulsing erection.
“Bloody Americans,” he muttered to the larger of his two horses, a twelve-year-old thoroughbred cross that had served him well over the years. “We’re good to be rid of the whole lot.”
With the exception of a vexing temptress with violet eyes.
Gritting his teeth, Ambrose crossed his arms over the gelding’s back and stared broodingly out across the park as his loins ached and his mind rebelled against the idea of wanting a woman who was all wrong.
How could he have loved Sophia and felt such desire for Athena? It didn’t make any damn sense. The two were as different as night and day. As winter and summer. As cold and heat.
Sophia, with her gentle demeanor and soft smile, had been perfect.
The perfect wife.
The perfect mother.
The perfect duchess.
Athena, with her brazen disregard for simple etiquette – ‘Suitability is so very predictable and boring, don’t you agree? – was irredeemably flawed.
And yet...
And yet he wanted her with a fierceness that shook him to his very core.
He was going to have to let her go. That was the responsible thing to do. The right thing to do. The best thing to do. He’d make sure she had enough money to buy herself passage home and then he’d ship her back across the Atlantic, never to be seen – or thought of – again. It was a simple solution, really. It was what he should have done the moment she stepped into his study. Instead he’d let himself be temporarily distracted by a pair of big lavender eyes and silky golden hair and the most kissable lips he had ever seen. Well, no more. His mind was made up. Athena was leaving on the next ship bound for Boston.
The Spring Duke (A Duke for All Seasons) Page 4
