An Inconvenient Duke

by Anna Harrington

  “That’s a shame,” he commented, falling into a private language the eavesdroppers wouldn’t be able to understand. “You’ll certainly want to take a stroll along the alley before the fireworks start.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, a breathless undertone in her voice indicating that she understood perfectly what he meant—he wanted a moment to speak with her outside the box. Alone. “I think I will.”

  In an innocuous gesture, as if simply jostled by the crowd, she briefly rested her hand on his arm. But he felt her fingers give a quick squeeze into the muscle beneath his jacket sleeve. That small touch shot up his arm and straight into his chest.

  Before any of the women pressing in around them could elbow their way into tagging along with Danielle when she left the box, she sidled up to Mrs. Slater, the wife of a wealthy mill owner and the woman who had sat next to her at dinner. According to Hartsham, Slater had been called away on business in Dover, yet he’d sent his wife and his apologies. Danielle leaned in to speak into the woman’s ear, ostensibly to be heard over the noise of the band marching past the box, but Marcus knew it was to keep from being overheard by the other nosey women lingering nearby. Then she gestured faintly toward the door.

  Mrs. Slater nodded with a glance of her own in the direction of the door…until her eyes slid sideways to take a fleeting glance at Marcus. She froze for only a beat, then smiled.

  Then the two women linked arms and entered into rapid conversation as they ambled toward the door, so rapid that no one else would be able to interrupt and invite themselves along on their stroll. They paused only to select masks from a pile on the table before slipping out the door.

  As he watched the two women leave, Marcus took another sip of port to cover the knowing smile pulling at his lips. He had a new appreciation for the sharpness of Danielle’s mind. Of course she’d sought out Mrs. Slater, a woman whose position at the edge of the ton made her less devoted to propriety. Danielle would have a proper chaperone for strolling through the gardens, yet one who knew to wander off at an opportune time so that the two of them would have the chance for a private conversation.

  Marcus finished the port a few minutes later. When he stepped into the cool night air, he found the mask she’d left behind for him on the rear railing.

  Grinning to himself, he snatched it up and sauntered down the alley after the women.

  Fourteen

  Mrs. Slater tightened her hold on Dani’s arm and slowed both of them almost to a stop as she pointed with excitement at a juggler who tossed flaming batons high into the air. “Look at that!”

  “Amazing.” Dani smiled. It was the fifth time in as many yards that the older woman had stopped them since they’d left the box. But Dani knew that it wasn’t the performers that had captured her attention but a desire to go slowly to give Marcus time to catch up with them. Apparently, this wasn’t her first time acting as chaperone.

  They lingered until the juggler caught each baton and one by one extinguished them in his mouth, then took a bow to astounded applause and the tossing of coins into a sack at his feet. Then they strolled along the wide alley fronted by three-story galleries toward the giant Chinese pavilion.

  “Aren’t masks wonderful things?” Mrs. Slater held up the half mask she’d taken from the box, letting its ribbons dangle along her skirts as she contemplated it. “If I had my way, every society event would be held behind masks.”

  “Because then no one would know who you are,” Dani agreed with a long sigh. How many times during the past few years had she simply wanted to be anonymous and left alone to live her life as she chose? Nightingale gave her that anonymity, but it also came with a price.

  “Because then no one would be able to see how bored you are,” the older woman corrected. “Heavens, how tedious these things are! This is the first good time I’ve had all evening.”

  “But you came to tonight’s supper, even without your husband. Surely you could have used his absence as an excuse to beg off.”

  “Because Mr. Slater asked me to.” She patted Dani’s arm as she took a surreptitious glance over her shoulder. “Future business ventures always come first.”

  When Dani’s gaze followed after, she saw nothing but a crush of bodies and entertainers in the dim light of the lanterns strung overhead.

  “He knew how important this supper was to Hartsham and thought I would enjoy the evening.” Mrs. Slater smiled nostalgically. “He’s always been so attentive to me and my interests.”

  Dani’s throat tightened. Would Marcus ever care for her like that?

  “I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d rather have spent the evening at home. Besides, I knew that my being here would be important for his business, to show his support for the men in the room.”

  Did she mean Marcus? “How so?”

  “They’ve all gotten involved in some kind of business venture together. Lord Hartsham and the others have hinted that it could be quite substantial if my husband gives them the financial backing they’re hoping for. And his loyalty.” She sent a sideways glance at Dani. “I’d assumed that was why they were hosting His Grace this evening, to bring him into the venture as well, since he has powerful connections in the military and Westminster.”

  That wasn’t the reason for tonight’s supper at all, but Dani didn’t dare reveal that. Although what she’d learned of Mrs. Slater by conversing with her tonight over dinner made her consider the possibility of bringing her into Nightingale, the woman couldn’t yet be trusted. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Her sly expression deepened, followed by another glance behind them. “I thought that surely he would have told you.”

  “His Grace and I don’t have that sort of relationship.” Although what sort they did have, Dani had no idea. The kind that involved aching kisses, bared bodies, caresses that sent her out of her mind and had her longing for all kinds of things she had no business wanting…but not a single discussion about politics or business.

  “Hmm.” That sound of disbelief answered her, and Mrs. Slater stopped them once more. This time to release her arm. “Oh, I do love a mask,” she remarked offhandedly as she raised hers to her face and tied it behind her head. “Makes for all kinds of wonderful opportunities for secret meetings, don’t you think?”

  A conspiratorial smile blossomed on her face, and Dani secured her own mask in place. “I agree.”

  With their identities now safely hidden behind the masks, the two women wandered onward again, this time toward the refreshment booths surrounding the pavilion.

  “Oh, look!” Mrs. Slater pointed to one of the booths where brightly uniformed attendants served ices. “I wonder if they have peach ice. I haven’t had that since I was a little girl on my first visit to London.”

  “Well, perhaps you should go see if they do.” She rested her hand meaningfully on the woman’s arm. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Or over there, out of the way of the crowd,” Mrs. Slater amended, gesturing at the close walks snaking off behind the pavilion. “It’s a very long line for the ices. I might be waiting a good while.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Perhaps twenty minutes or so.”

  Dani smiled from behind the half mask that covered only her eyes.

  “We might even become separated.”

  “Most likely.”

  “If so, then there’s no need for you to linger here. We’ll meet back at the box. But I’d like to investigate the rear steps, to find out if the fireworks will be visible from there. So you might find me there rather than inside the box.”

  “Of course.” Dani knew exactly what Mrs. Slater meant. Oh, Mrs. Slater would be a fine addition to Nightingale!

  If her mask hadn’t been hiding her face, Dani was certain she would have seen a knowing lift of the woman’s brow as she turned to walk toward the refreshment booths.

 
Dani hesitated a moment, her gaze searching the milling crowd around her but not finding Marcus. Where was he?

  Trusting that he would come to her, she started forward toward the shadowed paths behind the pavilion. She chose one and started slowly down it.

  She moved carefully through the shadows, her pulse pounding with every step. The path narrowed as it receded into the depths of the garden and grew darker. The sounds from the main alley became muffled by the wilderness until she could no longer hear the music and cheers from the crowd. Her chest tightened with unease, but she walked on, even more slowly now. She passed several groves of trees, moss-covered stone walls meant to resemble tumbled-down Greek temples, a thick hedge that lined part of the path—all capable of hiding secret assignations.

  She passed a few couples who were meandering along the path, poking their heads behind walls and trees to judge how private and dark the spaces were beyond. Around her, the lanterns had been extinguished, and from the darkness rose female giggles and masculine groans.

  A masked woman raced by, her skirts hitched up to her knees. She slowed only to look behind her, then burst into laughter and ran on, jumping off the path and darting behind a row of bushes. Behind her, a man dressed as a harlequin chased after. Heedless of anything but catching the woman, he knocked Dani aside in his hurry to follow after her into the undergrowth.

  A squeal cut through the darkness just behind her, and Dani jumped, startled. Apparently, the man had caught the woman.

  Oh, this was madness! She’d never find Marcus searching for him like this, not when the trees around her were so dark that they seemed to press in upon her, yet all of the woods felt strangely alive. For the first time since she started Nightingale, she felt afraid in the darkness.

  She turned around and headed back toward the main area of the garden with its lanterns and torches, its crowds and music. With each step she took, her heartbeat eased and her lungs—

  A hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her arm. Too startled to scream, she was pulled off the path.

  A man’s arms encircled her waist, swinging her off her feet and into the shadows. But she didn’t punch or kick against him despite her gasp of surprise. Because she knew those strong arms and shoulders, that firm jaw, the gleam of his dark eyes even from behind the mask—

  “Marcus.”

  He maneuvered her behind the wall of a folly, into a secluded and dark corner of the fake ruins. Then he lowered his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that left her weak and tingling to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she arched into him, eagerly giving herself up to be kissed and caressed.

  A deep groan sounded from the back of his throat when she opened her lips and allowed him inside to plunder her mouth. An aching yearning started at her toes and fanned up through her, and she simply couldn’t kiss him deeply enough to keep it at bay or quash the throbbing he stirred between her thighs.

  When he finally tore his mouth away from hers, he murmured against her cheek, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

  “Have you?” Her voice was just as raw with desire as his as she admitted, “I thought I was the only one.”

  With a laughing growl, he kissed her again, this time languidly and leisurely, as if he could take his time to savor her now that he’d satisfied that initial longing.

  A peal of laughter from the path broke the stillness of the night. Startled, Dani jumped away from him. But she didn’t go far from his arms and sagged against the stones behind her, staring up at him through the shadows. Her hand rose to touch her fingers to her lips, finding them warm and wet and aching to be kissed again. God help her, the taste of him was sheer addiction.

  Safely shielded from the world by his strong body and cocooned privately in the shadows, she dared to reach a hand to touch his cheek. So warm and strong…

  As if knowing what she was thinking, he turned his head to kiss her palm. She trembled with longing.

  “I didn’t know if you were going to follow, if you understood what I wanted you to do,” she whispered, but even that seemed to echo loudly against the muffled night surrounding them. “Then, when I looked for you in the crowd, I couldn’t spot you. I thought…”

  He covered her hand with his and gave her fingers a squeeze. “What?”

  “That you’d changed your mind.” She slowly pulled her hand from his to step into his embrace, her arms once more encircling his neck. “That you weren’t following.”

  “I knew where you were at every step,” he assured her, his warm breath tickling her ear. “I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

  His answer sparked a liquid warmth inside her. She pulled back, but only far enough to tease her fingers into the silky hair at his nape. “Because you’ve been watching me all evening.” She’d happily noticed that, how his gaze never left her for long, even during the supper when their attentions had been required by the people on either side of them at the table. “A less confident lady might be rather nervous to realize that.”

  His eyes flickered brightly behind the mask. “And a confident woman like yourself?”

  “Flattered.” The truth behind that would have heated her cheeks in a happy blush…until reality turned her cold. “Until she realizes it was only to keep watch on her.”

  “No respectable gentleman would do less when that woman is in his care for the evening.”

  “Is that what I am—in your care?”

  “Would you mind if you were?”

  “No, I don’t believe I would.” That sincere admission turned into a subtle flirtation, one that tickled deliciously at the backs of her knees. “But given that it took me to rescue you from those cloying gentlemen in the box, it seems to me that tonight, you’re in my care.”

  “Am I?” His sensuous lips curled in amusement.

  “Would you mind if you were?” she repeated his words and delighted when he gave a low chuckle in response.

  “Definitely not.”

  A thrill surged through her at that half growl, and her arms tightened around his shoulders, not to keep him close but to keep herself from falling away.

  “But that wasn’t the only reason I watched you,” he admitted.

  “And what other reason would there be?”

  He shifted into her, bringing her soft front against his hard chest. “Simply to watch you.”

  Her fingers stilled in his hair. It would be so easy to believe his flattery, to let herself go deeper into this new—and refreshingly direct—flirtation that she’d never dared attempt with a man before. That had all the little muscles in her belly tightening with a mix of uncertainty and utter enjoyment.

  But a reminder of why they were there in the gardens tonight crept out from the back of her mind, and it wasn’t because he wanted a secret assignation with her in the shadows.

  “I haven’t had the chance to speak to Lady Hartsham alone yet.” She slipped out of his arms to put space between them and find her equilibrium. “There have been too many people around. But I promise that I will before the evening is over.”

  He didn’t reach for her, but his eyes stayed keenly bright as they studied her from behind the mask. “You don’t have to, you know.”

  “But I do. That’s what this evening is for, why we’re here.”

  He shook his head. “If you think this is too dangerous—”

  “It isn’t.” Yet she couldn’t stop a faint trembling from traveling up her legs to her knees. She wanted to believe it was because of the danger, but that would be a lie. It was only because of Marcus.

  “If you’ve changed your mind,” he said pointedly, lightly grasping her upper arms, “I’ll understand, and the evening will become nothing more than an outing to Vauxhall. I don’t want you placing yourself in unnecessary danger.”

  “We’re in the middle of a pleasure garden.” She
gestured a hand at the property around them. “The only danger here is of drinking too much arrack punch and suffering a fierce headache in the morning.”

  What she could see of his expression from behind the mask remained somber, the tightening of his jaw not eased by her teasing assurances.

  But his overprotectiveness made her nervous, especially when she’d been so excited earlier to know that they were working together as a team. She couldn’t bear the thought of being left behind now.

  So she quickly changed subjects. “By the way, when you paid for all those dresses the other afternoon, I know that I cornered you into it. You really don’t have to. I’ll make certain you’re reimbursed.”

  “Consider it my contribution to Nightingale.” Yet he didn’t seem happy about being a benefactor.

  “Thank you.”

  “And the other?”

  She couldn’t see his expression behind the mask, but she knew from the sound of his voice that he’d arched a brow in challenge.

  “Am I to receive thanks for that, too?”

  He meant the stockings. Her cheeks flushed. “Not at all,” she whispered, although no one could overhear. “That you shouldn’t have done.”

  “Why not?” The challenge laced his voice. “Don’t you like them?”

  “They’re lovely, but it’s far too scandalous, you buying me clothes.”

  “I didn’t buy you clothes.” He leaned in, lowering his face level with hers. “I bought you stockings.”

  “When you put it like that,” she drawled dryly, “it’s so much better.”

  His mouth quirked into a grin. “Are you wearing them tonight?”

  Heaven help her, she was. She hadn’t been able to resist, privately amused by the secret she kept beneath her skirts. She should have answered that it was none of his business, that a proper lady would never answer a question like that from a gentleman. But she’d enjoyed their flirtatious sparring, enjoyed how feminine and desirable he made her feel—