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Thwarting the Duke

Page 8

by Ava Stone


  He nodded once and a bit of his golden hair fell across his brow. “We might as well put one of Danby’s special licenses to use.” He winked at her. “I won’t have anyone speak ill of you, Hope. Not Hessenford, not anyone who might have spotted you tonight, and—”

  “No one saw me,” she protested. “I was very careful and I wore the darkest dress I have.”

  “Robert Cole saw you,” he said matter-of-factly. There was the strangest twinkle in his eyes. “Tell me again why you came here tonight.”

  “To see you, to talk to you, to make certain—”

  “You said you couldn’t lose me.” His voice rumbled over her.

  A shiver raced through Hope, and she dropped her gaze to his cravat, embarrassed that she’d admitted as much to him, even if it was true.

  “I told you I saw Danby about his special licenses.”

  He had said that at the St. Austells’. Hope nodded.

  “I have no idea who he plans to match you with, Hope. But I can’t lose you either.” His hands squeezed possessively at her waist. “I’m not certain how or when it happened, but I am quite in love with you.”

  Hope’s heart lifted, and she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. Oh, good heavens! She wasn’t sure how it had happened either. But it had. Somehow. “I love you too,” she whispered with a shake of her head, almost surprised to hear those words come out of her mouth.

  “Then it’s settled,” he said and then dipped his head down to kiss her once more.

  But it wasn’t settled, and Hope pushed at his chest, which seemed to ripple beneath her fingertips. “I won’t marry you, not if you meet Hessenford.”

  His mouth dropped open like he couldn’t imagine that she would ever say such a thing. “Are we negotiating again?”

  She’d do anything she had to in order to keep him alive.

  “I will not negotiate your future, Hope. I will not negotiate your reputation. As your husband, you’ll always know that I’ll protect you, that you’ll be safe. That’s why I have to meet Hessenford.”

  “And what about you?” she choked out. “Who will keep you safe?”

  His brow lifted as though she’d offended him. “So little faith in my abilities?”

  That wasn’t what she meant at all, but the fact of the matter was Hessenford would have a pistol pointed at Thad. It wasn’t a terribly safe place to put oneself. He had to see that. “I just don’t want to put your life at risk, not for me.”

  And then he smiled once more and brushed his fingers against her cheeks. “There’s no one else I would risk everything for, Hope. But you need to trust me. I do know what I’m doing.”

  Did he? Did he know more than she did about this sort of thing? Well, probably. Ladies didn’t go around dueling with each other when they were offended. They gave each other the cut direct or gossiped behind each other’s backs, which wasn’t terribly nice; but it wasn’t lethal.

  “You could call the whole thing off. You challenged him.”

  He blew out a breath. “You do realize this is precisely why ladies should be kept in the dark as far as duels and matters of honor go, do you not?”

  Did that mean he was weakening? Hope batted her lashes at him, the same way she’d seen Lila do with Quent. It usually worked for her sister-in-law. “I shall never involve myself again…assuming my husband isn’t involved himself, of course.”

  He laughed as he shook his head. “I will give Hessenford the opportunity to apologize, Hope. If he does so, I’ll withdraw my challenge. Wedding gift to my bride.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. Heavens! Who would have ever thought a crash of phaetons in Hyde Park would lead to…this, to her finding that part of her she thought had died, to finding a gentleman who was so perfect for her in every way, to a future she never could have hoped for.

  Chapter 13

  Green Park was blanketed in fog as Thad entered the gates on Sulis’ back. He smoothed a hand across his mare’s neck, urging her towards the silhouette of a carriage in the distance. That had to be Doctor Alcott’s coach. Everyone else would arrive on horseback just like he was.

  The closer they got to the carriage, Thad started to make out figures, four of them. He must be the last to arrive. But he wouldn’t have changed the last few minutes at Baxter House for anything in the world, not with Hope in his arms and kissing him with every bit of passion she possessed. And when he got home, and after some vicar named them husband and wife, he was going to do a lot more than just kiss his new countess. In fact, they may not be seen for days. Or perhaps not for the rest of the Season. They could head right to Chivelesword Abbey. Of course, his mother would want to meet Hope; but he’d rather not detour through Yorkshire if he didn’t have to. Mother could probably be convinced to visit Leicestershire in a few months or so. By then, Hope would have the run of the place.

  Robert waved his arm in the air to catch Thad’s notice, and…What the devil? Was that Quentin Post standing right beside his friend? Damn it all, he hadn’t planned on seeing Hope’s brother at this engagement. Was the man likely to call Thad out right after he dispensed with Hessenford? His stomach knotted. Was Post looking for Hope? Had he realized she’d gone missing in the dead of night?

  Thad pulled back on Sulis’ reins, and his mare came to a stop before the four men. Robert Cole, Quentin Post, Doctor Alcott, and Charles Truscott. So, then, where the devil was Hessenford?

  Thad surveyed the foursome and then dismounted. “Where’s Hessenford? Hiding somewhere?” That seemed like the coward. He’d make the worst sort of remarks about Hope and then fail to show.

  “Um, well,” Robert stammered, looking rather uncomfortable.

  “Since my services are not needed,” Doctor Alcott began, “I’ll be returning home.”

  Since his services weren’t needed? What in the world? “Where is Hessenford?” Thad asked again.

  “Dead,” Truscott said, sounding quite dismayed and more than a little stunned.

  “Dead?” Thad echoed, louder than was necessary. How was that even possible?

  Alcott was either uninterested in the story or had already heard it. The doctor turned his back on the group and started for his coach.

  “He apparently visited Madam Dubois’ tonight,” Robert said, glancing towards Truscott as though making certain he had the story right.

  “He was foxed,” the viscount’s second added, shaking his head.

  The man had been properly soused when Thad saw him at St. Austells’.

  “Didn’t take his trousers completely off,” Robert continued. “Tripped over his own feet and…”

  “Crashed his head against the bedpost,” Truscott continued.

  “And died?” Thad asked, not quite believing such a thing. The man, foxed as he was at the St, Austells’, had seemed in perfect health. He’d cracked his head on a bedpost at a bawdy house? Fitting as that was…

  “Well, at first the whore…er…girl,” Truscott amended quickly, “At first she thought he’d just been knocked unconscious and was sleeping off the blue ruin he’d downed, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know how long he was really dead. I’m assuming you don’t want me to stand in for him. I’m happy to apologize for the uncomplimentary things that were said about Lady Hope tonight if—”

  “What exactly were those things?” Quentin Post snapped. “You might be off the hook with Kilworth, but as the lady is my sister.”

  But the lady was about to be Thad’s wife. How was Quentin Post going to take that news? Would he call Thad out himself over the matter? Perhaps Alcott shouldn’t hurry away, after all.

  “I’m certain Mr. Truscott and Mr. Pearce imbibed so much this evening they won’t be able to recall the conversation,” Thad said, wanting to be done with Truscott altogether. “And they’ll never mention it in the future.”

  Truscott nodded quickly. “Absolutely, Kilworth. We have only the utmost respect for Lady Hope.”

  “I am glad to hear that,” Quentin gr
owled, sounding fiercer than Thad had ever heard him.

  Damn it all, he was going to have to tell the man that Hope was currently at Baxter House. It would have been so much easier to do so in a note, summoning all of the Post family together for an impromptu wedding. Quentin’s wife did, after all, seem to have a calming effect on the man. But there was nothing for it. Post was here and his wife was not.

  Thad gestured towards a nearby copse with a tip of his head. “Mind if I have a word with you?”

  Quentin’s hazel gaze narrowed on Thad. “I believe we are overdue for that.”

  Thad took a steadying breath and lifted Sulis’ reins towards Robert. “Do you mind?”

  His friend took the reins and cast him an expression that seemed to wish him luck. And he could use every bit of luck available to him. Quentin Post was amiable most of the time, but…Well, this was hardly a usual situation.

  “Hear me out before you try to kill me,” Thad said once they’d reached the copse of trees.

  Quentin frowned, looking Thad up and down. “You think that’s the best way to start this conversation?”

  Well, it would be nice to acquire that promise before Thad went any further. “Hope is at Baxter House right now.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Who knew Quentin’s frown could darken?

  Thad heaved a sigh. “She wanted to talk me out of the whole Hessenford duel.”

  “The little idiot.” Her brother looked pained as he closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s as though she’s hell-bent on ruining herself.”

  “It’s very possible someone spotted her,” Thad agreed. “So I told her to stay there until I finished here to keep anyone else from seeing her, but—”

  Quentin’s eyes opened again. “But…?” he prodded.

  Best just to say it. After all, it would soften the blow, right? “I love her, Quentin. This isn’t the way I would have gone about all of this if I’d had the choice, but things being what they are, that decision has been taken out of my hands.”

  Post’s eyes focused even more intently on Thad, silently studying him. At least he wasn’t calling him out. That could only be a good sign.

  “I’ve asked her to marry me. I think we should do so this morning at Baxter House. We’d like your family present, of course. But the sooner we’re wed, the better for her.”

  “You love her?” he asked. “You’re certain?”

  Thad was quite that, and he nodded in response. “Very.”

  “And you won’t let her run wild anymore?”

  “She won’t be walking the streets of Mayfair in the dead of night to visit gentleman’s homes,” Thad replied, though he didn’t want to tame Hope. He loved the energy she possessed, her spirit, even her recklessness, as long as it was directed properly. Heaven forbid she become more docile.

  “In that case—” Quentin reached inside his greatcoat and pulled out a piece of paper “—this is for you.”

  Thad took the paper from the fellow and glanced down at it. A special license, with his name and Hope’s written in a very familiar hand. A chill raced through him. “Danby?” he asked in awe.

  For the first time that night, Quentin smiled. “One of his men delivered that after we’d returned from St. Austell’s a few hours ago.”

  But that didn’t even seem possible. Thad returned his attention to the license in his hand. “How in the world could he have known—”

  A snort escaped Quentin. “Over the last year, I have come to believe His Grace knows all things. Only a fool would get on the wrong side of him.”

  That was a very good point. Thad pocketed the license and shook his head. “So perhaps we should get married in the afternoon instead. Give His Grace time to attend the ceremony.” One that the duke had inexplicably known would take place.

  “That does seem a good plan,” Quentin agreed. “I’ll bring Vicar Wright, shall I?”

  Thad nodded. “That would be most appreciated.”

  Chapter 14

  Hope couldn’t sit still. Anxiety coursed through her veins and she alternated from sitting on Thad’s settee to crossing the room and back more times than she could count. Shouldn’t he be back by now? If he’d called off the duel, shouldn’t he be back? Waiting for his return felt like an eternity.

  What if Hessenford hadn’t apologized? What if the duel proceeded and Thad was bleeding in the middle of Green Park? Or worse? If only there was a way to know for sure. She could ask the butler – Morris, wasn’t it? - to have Thad’s carriage brought around and go to the park herself. What if he couldn’t move and was bleeding, lifeless on the ground?

  She couldn’t let him suffer like that!

  Hope started for the corridor to summon the butler and—

  The air whooshed out of her as she bumped right into Thaddeus Baxter!

  Oh! She’d never been more relieved about anything in her life. “Thank heavens!” She threw her arms around his neck and breathed in the scent of him – morning dew, horses and his citric shaving lotion. Nothing had ever smelled so wonderful. “I was so worried.”

  Thad tipped her chin up and looked down at her, an enigmatic look in his dark eyes. “With good reason. Your brother was there. I thought it quite likely he’d try to remove my head.”

  Drat! She’d forgotten all about Quent! “Oh, Thad! I’m so sorry. Was he awful? What did he say? What happened with Hessenford? You’re not hurt, are you? Did he apologize? What—”

  “Take a breath.” He chuckled. Then he led her back to the settee where she’d waited a lifetime for him to return. He’d vowed he was uninjured and explained about Hessenford’s sudden death. He told her about Danby’s special license, and Quent promising to bring her mother and sister to Baxter House that afternoon to see them wed, and that he’d bring Vicar Wright along with him.

  “Lord Prestwood’s cousin?” she asked in surprise. “I hadn’t realized he was in London.”

  Thad yawned. “I’ve never met the man, but as long as he can perform the ceremony, I don’t really care.”

  Hope squeezed his hand. “You’re exhausted.”

  “It has been some time since I slept.”

  The same was true for her too. She smiled at the handsome earl. “Go get some sleep. I promise not to get into any trouble in your absence.”

  But he shook his head. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll dare let you out of my sight, my love.” Then he slid an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up in his arms.

  Heavens! Hope squealed in surprise. “What are you doing?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from sliding off his lap.

  “I’m about to make love to you,” he replied, pushing off the settee and starting for the threshold. “You’ll be my wife in a few hours anyway.”

  Was he serious? Right now in the middle of the day? Didn’t people do that sort of thing in the dark? And after they were married? He was as reckless as she was, wasn’t he? Hope’s heart thudded against her chest. What if someone found out? But they would be man and wife in just a few hours. “I thought you needed to rest.”

  “I need you more,” he said low, making a thrill race through her.

  Hope stared up into Thad’s eyes and a sigh escaped her. This man, this handsome earl she’d hated on sight, was her perfect match. How in the world had that happened?

  Her light wisteria scent swirled around Thad as he climbed the stairs with his bride-to-be in his arms; and he couldn’t wait to bury his head against her skin and breathe her in.

  She giggled. “Don’t you dare drop me, Thaddeus.”

  “Never,” he vowed. “Not in a million years.” Dropping her would put a rather quick end to how he wanted to spend the rest of his morning. And ever since he’d walked back into Baxter House, he had very specific plans for how he wanted the rest of his day to go. He wasn’t about to take any chances that Quentin Post or the dowager Marchioness of Bradenham, really, would find some other way around this situation. And he didn’t want to lose Hope, he co
uldn’t lose her.

  He stalked down the corridor towards his chambers and nudged the door wider with his boot. Luckily there was no one about and he closed the door firmly behind them. He placed her gently beside his bed and shrugged out of his jacket.

  “Need help with your buttons?”

  Hope turned her back to him and tossed her blonde locks over one shoulder as Thad slid the row of pearl buttons through their holes. He tugged the dark velvet from her skin and placed his lips on the back of her neck. He couldn’t help but sigh. Her light scent teased him, the softness of her skin entranced him and her gentle intake of breath drew him closer.

  He pulled her against his chest and his stiff cock pressed against her rounded bottom. Damn it all, he’d be lucky if he could get his trousers off with out spilling himself inside them.

  “No regrets in becoming the Countess of Kilworth,” he rasped near her ear. Goosebumps spread across her skin and Thad dipped his head to kiss them away.

  Hope shook her head. “No regrets.”

  “None in becoming my countess?” She had, after all, once wanted that title when his cousin had been the earl.

  She spun in his arms and her green eyes sparkled just as they had last night during their waltz. That enchanting sparkle he hadn’t known she still possessed until last night. But there it was, sparkling at him. His heart thudded, waiting for her answer. “I meant what I said this morning, Thad. I do love you. And I can’t wait to be your countess in name and reality.”

  And that was all he needed to hear.

  Thad tugged at his cravat and his waistcoat followed it onto the floor in a heap. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his. He let his fingers trail up her middle and stop at her breasts that he’d wanted to touch since that very first day he’d seen her dripping wet beside the Serpentine.

  He squeezed her with both hands and smiled when she sighed against his lips. “Ah, my little vixen, you’re all mine now.”

  She pulled back slightly. “Not quite yet, my lord.”

  She was my lording him? Now? Right next to his bed? Thad’s eyes widened.

 

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