by Amelia Grey
Once Nathan became an heir to the title of viscount, he’d gone to London and turned into a different person. Not even her nonjudgmental father had been able to calm Nathan down when he was in London. By his own admission, Nathan left his sensible way of life behind and became just as wild and reckless as the other heirs he associated with.
But Louisa had to believe that Nathan, who always took good care of his sisters’ welfare, would never have willingly endangered his life. If her brother were still alive, she and her sisters would have his love and generosity and not be at the mercy of a stingy uncle who didn’t care a feather about her or them.
“What about it, Miss Prim?” the duke asked softly while Lillian continued playing the pianoforte. “Was that a challenge?”
“Certainly not,” she said, refusing to move an inch, lest he realize she was shaking in her soft-soled slippers and trying desperately to hide it. “I’m not foolish enough to take on a gentleman as irresponsible as you.”
Louisa let her gaze fall to his wide chest, covered by a starched white shirt and well-fitted pale brown waistcoat and across his strong-looking shoulders encased in a dark, chocolate brown coat. Her attention slid over his casually tied neckcloth before rolling back up his cleanly shaven neck to study his handsome, chiseled features. And then as with a will of their own, her eyes stopped at his lips—which formed such an appealing half grin that she wanted to reach up and kiss him.
The unexpected urge caused a catch in her breath. He was so cocksure, she feared he might know what she was thinking.
She stepped back and took a quick glance toward Lillian, hoping her sister hadn’t seen just how close she was standing to the duke.
“If that was a compliment, Miss Prim,” he said, “thank you.”
Lillian hit a sequence of wrong notes in the middle of a chord that was going rather well, and Louisa saw His Grace flinch. She smiled. She saw no reason to make his unwanted and unexpected visit enjoyable. Her brother had adored all his sisters, but when it came time for music lessons, he had always found a reason to leave the house. And when her uncle had visited Wayebury and one of the girls was practicing, he immediately told Louisa the playing had to stop. Apparently some gentlemen couldn’t block the sound from their ears and continue on with whatever they were doing. Perhaps the duke was like that and would rather leave than be forced to listen to the unpleasant string of sounds, too.
“I’m assuming your sister Gwen is the one who is ready to enter Society?”
“Yes,” Louisa said cautiously, remembering that she’d had to send her uncle three letters before he finally made a visit to Wayebury to discuss her petition to move the family to London for the Season so that Gwen could enter the marriage mart.
Louisa had done her best over the past two years to be accommodating to her uncle and not bother him very often, which was what he’d made clear he wanted. After she had repeatedly refused his demands that she force the Duke of Drakestone to make good on his word and marry her, the easiest thing for her to do was acquiesce to her uncle’s wishes that she stay at his estate in Wayebury and be responsible for her sisters’ schooling and welfare.
When her uncle finally appeared at Wayebury a few weeks ago, it had been apparent he didn’t want to live up to what was expected of him and see to it that Gwen had a Season befitting the daughter of a viscount so she could make a good match. In fact, he had been greatly perturbed to hear her explain they would need a place to live, new clothing, a coach-and-four, and to be introduced to the appropriate ladies so that Gwen could obtain invitations to the best parties and balls. Louisa had already determined in her mind that she would have to deal courageously with her uncle, so she had remained steady and firm. In the end, he’d agreed to her requests and made arrangements for their journey to London.
But how shabbily her uncle had treated them in the past was not this man’s concern.
“Naturally,” the duke said, “you’ll want her to be dressed in the latest fashion.”
That seemed an odd comment for the duke to make, but Louisa said, “Yes.”
“She’ll also need to be introduced to the patronesses of Almack’s.”
“Of course. Gwen is lovely, sociable, and quite intelligent, and—” Suddenly Louisa gasped. “Your Grace, do you have designs on Gwen?”
His brows drew together quickly. “Romantic designs on her? No.”
“Good, because I would never allow her to marry you.”
The duke’s green eyes darkened, and he stared at her with a hard, defying expression. He stepped dangerously close to her again and said, “Miss Prim, if I wanted to marry your sister, you could not stop me.”
She hesitated, hating the truth of his words and not willing to admit it. “Perhaps, but I would certainly try.”
“But that’s not the point. What does your sister need to ensure her appearance in Society is a success?”
Louisa smirked. “Well, Your Grace, since gratefully, you are not interested in her, I don’t believe her welfare is any of your concern or any of your business, and I’ll thank you to keep out of it.”
His brow furrowed again. “Your uncle made it my concern and my business.”
His cocksure attitude sent a rippling of alarm through her. “Did he? How? What has he done?”
“You don’t know.”
Her trepidation increased. “I’m not sure what you are talking about. I don’t know how Gwen’s Season could possibly be any of your concern.”
“Before Lord Wayebury left England to go on his grand tour, he signed your inheritance and that of your sisters over to me for management and disbursement as well as legal guardianship.”
Louisa felt as if an anvil had fallen on her chest and she had no means to get it off. “He’s gone out of the country? And he left us at your mercy?”
The duke nodded.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Does this really seem like the kind of thing I would make up?”
“No, no, of course not, but.” Her heartbeat surged. “It’s just that I’m caught completely unaware.”
His expression remained suspicious. “I assumed you knew he’d planned an extensive holiday abroad and changed the guardianship.”
“No,” she said, feeling shaky again, but determined not to sound as if she were about to fall apart. “Did you ask him to do this?” she demanded of him.
His eyes narrowed again. “I assumed you did.”
“Me?” She gasped again. “Of course not. Why would I want you to be guardian of me and my sisters?”
“Perhaps you were eager to marry me?”
“You!” she exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. “I would not marry you if you were dipped in gold and trussed up with rubies, Your Grace. When we arrived here, there was a letter from my uncle stating that he would be gone for the Season, but not that he had left England. Mrs. Trumpington is the only servant he left behind to help us. I’m sure she doesn’t know anything about this either. Surely she would have said something to me.”
“Did you travel here alone?”
Feeling numb and bewildered, she said. “Of course not. I knew better than to attempt that. Miss Kindred is the younger girls’ governess. She has been with our family since before I was Bonnie’s age.”
“Did Lord Wayebury leave you without securing Gwen a chaperone for the Season?”
Once more, she shook her head. “His letter stated that his wife’s sister, Mrs. Ramona Colthrust, would be here to guide us through the Season, but she wasn’t here when we arrived and I’ve heard nothing from her.”
His eyes darkened and narrowed yet again. “I have met Mrs. Colthrust. She is not a suitable chaperone for you or anyone else.”
“You are not suitable to be in charge of us either,” she said indignantly.
Suddenly Lillian’s playing was more than Louisa could bear at the moment. Louisa turned to her and, in as quiet a manner as she could muster, said, “Lillian, would you please go ask Mrs. Trumpington to
add some apricot tarts to the tea tray?”
“Yes, Sister,” she said, and quietly left the room.
Louisa looked back to the duke, furious her uncle had been so unkind as to force this man upon them. First her father died, then her brother, and now her uncle had abandoned them, too. She knew the responsibility for five girls was a lot for anyone to manage, but to cast them off like unwanted garments to a stranger proved just how little her uncle cared for them.
She sensed the duke was growing weary of their conversation by the deep frown line between his eyes, but she had more to say. “My uncle never wanted the responsibility for us in the first place, so I am not surprised by his unscrupulous actions. But I can’t believe you would accept. A true gentleman wouldn’t have.”
“A true gentleman did—all because I made a promise to a dying friend. It’s also true your uncle left me no choice. I couldn’t deny that I was the proper person to take care of the woman I said I would marry. More than a dozen men heard me tell your brother I would. And most of them have long wondered why I haven’t made good on my word.”
“Rubbish! I don’t believe for a minute that anyone even remembers my brother, let alone your vow to him.”
“On the contrary, Miss Prim—they expect a gentleman to keep his word, so what am I to do? I can assure you the last thing I want is to be in charge of a gaggle of blond-haired, blue-eyed girls who run around the house screaming like banshees thinking the hounds of Hell are after them.”
Louisa expelled another harsh sound. She rose tall on her toes and lifted her face toward the duke. “Did you call my sisters banshees?”
His hard gaze bored into hers. “Did you and your sister race around this house making noises that would have woken the dead?”
She blushed despite her indignation. “You’re a beast.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, too.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least,” she countered. “Say what you truly feel about me, but do not speak of my sisters in such a manner.”
She heard him curse under his breath and saw the muscles working in his neck. “I said like banshees, not that they are.”
“Same meaning,” she said, pressing harder, unwilling to let him off the hook for his offensive expression or back away from him. “Would you say something so unkind about your brothers or sisters?”
“Yes. If I had any. It so happens I don’t.”
“Cousins, then.”
“I don’t have any of those either.”
She blinked slowly as she studied on that pronouncement. “It’s not natural for anyone not to have at least one or two cousins somewhere in their family.”
“I agree, but that’s the way it is. I’m afraid that blame will have to be put on my parents’ shoulders for being only children as well. And before you ask—yes, I do have a few friends, and they would only laugh at such a remark as I just made.”
“No wonder. It’s a testament to the kind of friends you have. But no matter about that, I will see a solicitor tomorrow and tell him we must have a day in the Court of Chancery. I have the right to protest what my uncle did, and I will. I won’t have you responsible for us, and the court must get you changed for someone else.”
He lowered his face closer to hers. “You know I can’t allow that.”
His words were spoken quietly, but Louisa bristled all the same, meeting him stare for stare. “How can you stop me?”
“Your uncle left you in my care. The courts are not likely to change that as long as I am willing.”
“My sisters are not some wild and reckless duke’s responsibility. They are my mine to care for. Furthermore, my uncle could not force me to marry you, and neither can you. I will not marry a man whose culpability led him to send me a halfhearted offer of marriage to try to rid himself of his guilt and shame, a man who is so rash as to race a curricle on a foggy night.”
His nose edged closer to hers. “Did you call me wild and reckless?”
“From all I’ve read in the Society pages and the scandal sheets, the shoe fits perfectly, Your Grace.”
“So you get your information from the scandal pages and call it truth?”
“That and from what my brother told me before his death about you and his colleagues at the Heirs’ Club.”
“I assume he told you this after he’d had a pint or two of ale or more than a few sips of brandy.”
“Which you probably gave him to drink before he left London. So yes, I know about your midnight races, your card games that go on for days, and the many bedchambers you have slipped in and out of to accept a dare or to win a challenge. You should be called the Heirs’ Club of Scoundrels, from what I’ve heard, because that is exactly what all of you are.”
His chest heaved as rapidly as hers. They were locked in a battle of wills. She stared intently at him, and as she looked into the bright green depths of his eyes, she watched the lines around them ease. Slowly she saw his broad shoulders relax. His angry glare wilted. A smile spread his masculine lips.
His gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there. “You know, you are so close to me right now that I could kiss you, Miss Prim.”
All the breath seemed to swoosh out of her lungs and she blinked slowly. “Pardon?”
“You are so bent on getting the best of me that you haven’t even realized your lips are a mere fraction of an inch from mine. I’m trying to decide if I should kiss you and be the wild rogue you accuse me of being, or if I should step away and be the gentleman you insist I’m not. Tell me, Miss Prim, which should I be?”
Louisa’s lips parted, she lifted her head, but then in a moment of sanity she whirled from the duke. She pushed her hair to the back of her shoulders again, shaken by the strange sensations the duke stirred inside her.
He chuckled softly. “I will take care of you and your sisters for now, Miss Prim. You cannot change that. I’ll set up accounts for you at the best modiste, millinery, and fabric shops in Town. I’m sure there are other things you will need, so I’ll send someone around tomorrow who can help you. I’ll see to it that Miss Gwen receives more invitations than she can possibly accept and that the patronesses of Almack’s are introduced to her at the first ball. Then it will be up to you to see that she passes their inspection.”
“Of course she will,” Louisa said, slowly regaining her composure.
He nodded once. “And as for you, Miss Prim, I will not ask you to marry me again.”
“Thank heavens,” she whispered, stepping back, her knees wobbly once more, though this time with something not so easily explained.
“I will wait for you to propose to me.”
Louisa blinked some more, and then blinked again before her mouth slammed shut and she glared. “Then you will die an old bachelor, Your Grace.”
“A challenge it is, then. I accept.”
He smiled so devilishly that her breasts tingled and a warm fluttering swirled in her lower stomach.
“I’ll show myself out,” he said.
Louisa watched the duke leave. What a smug man he was to think she would ever propose to him. But for an instant, if she were truthful with herself, she had contemplated receiving the kiss he offered.
Chapter 5
Crabbèd Age and Youth
Cannot live together
—The Passionate Pilgrim
Sweet mercies!
Louisa had never stood so close to such a powerfully built man. Heat flooded her cheeks once again.
Had she really wanted him to kiss her?
Yes!
But why?
She was supposed to be much too sensible to be drawn to an arrogant, insufferable, and infuriating man. No, she was supposed to be too sensible to be drawn to any man, but especially one with such a disregard for what was right and proper. She should be thinking she hoped she never saw him again.
The front door opened and closed, and she knew the duke had gone. Taking time to collect her thoughts, she wondered what she was going to do
about him.
Her father had been a loving, levelheaded man who looked after his family even after he became viscount. For most of her life, he was a gentle vicar, well respected in the village. He never expected to inherit the title, and even after he did and they moved into the Wayebury estate, he still stayed home and took good care of his daughters.
Nathan was good to them, but he hadn’t exactly followed in their father’s footsteps after he became the viscount upon their father’s death. He had once told her the lure of all that London offered was much too great to ignore, and he started spending more time there than at home. Not even his fancy for the village’s most beautiful young lady could hold him in Wayebury.
She squeezed her eyes shut. May the saints help her. Her lashes lifted. Well, if truth be known, she knew little of men except her father, brother, and uncle. And not one of them had come close to being as overbearing and overconfident as His Grace was.
But she did wonder how anyone became that self-possessed. He remained steady as a rock even when she’d come close to accusing him of being responsible for her brother’s death. She could definitely take a few lessons from him on how to keep her emotions under control. His composure was astounding, and he’d more than proved that everything she’d ever read or heard about him was true.
He’d made her hackles rise faster than a bee’s wings could flap. The gall of him saying he would wait for her to propose to him was shocking. Hades would freeze first. The suggestion was so outrageous, so inappropriate—not to mention insulting—that she couldn’t even think about it without fuming with indignation all over again.
He was indeed a scoundrel of the highest order.
She knew she didn’t really hold the duke responsible for her brother’s death. Though, who could blame her if she did? From his own words, Louisa knew Nathan became a different man when he was in London. He’d admitted to being as wild and reckless as the other members of the Heirs’ Club when he was there. He’d admitted the pleasures of the city beckoned him and he had to go and satisfy that yearning to overindulge in drink, gaming, and ladies of the evening. She realized it might not be fair on her part, but somehow it made her feel better to lay blame somewhere other than on Nathan. And the duke’s shoulders and arms were big enough to carry the weight.
