To Love a Scandalous Duke (Once Upon a Scandal)

by Rosa, Liana De la

  She looked over her shoulder. “I returned to London a few months ago after living in Scotland.” She angled her head. “And I’m not married.”

  How was it possible she was unmarried? Even as a young girl, she’d been lovely. Whenever he’d seen or met a redhead throughout his travels, he always compared her hair to Alethea’s vivid locks. None had ever made him think of fiery sunsets that threatened to set the world ablaze, like hers had.

  He blinked at his fanciful thoughts and gave his head a shake. “Why were you in Scotland?”

  “My mother and I sojourned to her family’s home in the Highlands when she became ill, and I stayed after she died.” Her voice was monotone, as it often had been whenever she’d discussed her mother.

  “I’m sorry to hear of her death.” Despite Lady Rockhaven’s tendency to ignore him, he empathized with Alethea. He remembered how hard she’d sought to win her mother’s approval.

  In silhouette, her shoulders twitched as if she sighed. “Thank you.”

  “Did you like Scotland?”

  Alethea pivoted and sat on the edge of the wall. He could make out her slippered feet under the scalloped hem of her gown as she swung them to and fro.

  “I did. Eventually.” Her voice was laced with nostalgia. He held his tongue, unsure if she’d continue. She braced her hands on her legs. “Once I began teaching the village children, I enjoyed it immensely.”

  Declan blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I taught the children from the village, and even some of the servants’ children. Reading, writing, arithmetic. Some French.”

  “And your grandfather allowed it? Your mother allowed it?”

  Even in the low light her shrug was dismissive. “My mother was embarrassed, but my grandfather recognized my need to feel useful.”

  The idea of Lady Alethea, the bossy, always proper girl from his memory instructing crofters’ children seemed…gloriously improper. He suppressed a smile. “And you enjoyed it?”

  “I did.” She cast her arms out beside her, and Declan found himself leaning forward in anticipation. “Everyone knew who my family was, but no one treated me differently. To be judged on my own contributions was a heady thing.”

  Her words reflected so much of the way he thought of his time away. His travels were not always enjoyable, but he learned to be self-reliant, resourceful, and intuitive. He learned the importance of a hard day’s work, an honorable vow, and a respectable name. Declan wasn’t confident he would have acquired such appreciations had he stayed in England, content to occupy the role of the younger son.

  “It is indeed a heady feeling,” he murmured.

  Apparently, he was not the only one to grow up during their time apart. And of all the things that had changed during his absence, he’d secretly hoped Lady Alethea would remain the proper, sharp-tongued, and yet charming young girl with the secret heart of a hellion he’d long admired. For although he’d never allowed himself to regret the life he’d abdicated, speaking with her now made him wonder what could have blossomed between them. But such ponderings were useless exercises, for the past could not be changed, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

  Declan opened his mouth to ask her more about Scotland when the door was suddenly thrown wide open. Light spilled on the rooftop and his eyes fixed on the large figure that filled the doorway.

  “Allie, are you ready to head downstairs?” a deep male voice asked. “Your absence has been noted.”

  Unconsciously, Declan’s hands curled into fists, irritated any man would address her so familiarly.

  She jumped to her feet. “Oh dear. Yes, I suppose I’ve been gone long enough.”

  Alethea hurried forward and then suddenly spun around in a swirl of green silk. “Pray, forgive me for my rudeness. You remember my brother, Finlay, do you not?”

  Declan’s head jerked back and he slowly rose to his feet and walked into the light. Finlay Swinton, Viscount Firthwell, had been his first friend; however, the man looked nothing like the fresh-faced boy who lived in his memory. The tall, intimidating gentleman studied him with cool beryl eyes, his reddish-blond hair artfully tousled, his perfectly tailored clothes accentuating a hard, lean body. Finlay would be an opponent worthy of respect in the boxing ring. And he was a man who, quite obviously, considered himself his sister’s protector.

  “Of course I remember. How do you do, my lord?” He bowed, his actions smooth despite the caution stiffening his limbs. When he stood upright again, Finlay met his gaze before he bowed in turn.

  “Aside from an extra foot of height and some more meat on your bones, you look just as I remembered.”

  Declan snorted. “I wish I could say the same for you. I almost thought a berserker had arrived to punish me for conversing with Lady Alethea.”

  Finlay grinned, and Declan was reminded of the witty, gregarious boy he once knew. “No, she’s always been able to defend herself, but I like to issue a reminder I’m never far away.”

  If Declan had a sister, he was positive he’d act the same way. He turned to Alethea, and in the soft light filtering through the open doorway, he got his first real look at her. He was almost afraid that if he blinked, she’d disappear.

  Curls framed her oval-shaped face and fell along her neck from a stylish coiffure at the crown of her head. The deep-red locks drew attention to the delicate bones of her face and collarbone, and Declan allowed his gaze to travel over her lushly curved figure before he dragged them back to her face. Large jade green eyes, heavily fringed with dark lashes, regarded him curiously, and a small smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose and her cheeks added character to her smooth, alabaster skin. His mouth grew dry when his gaze landed on her full pink mouth, with its top lip slightly smaller than the plump bottom one. It was a mouth made for passion.

  The sinful thought snapped him from his lustful revelry.

  Alethea had morphed into an alluring, wholly tempting package of feminine beauty, and he forced himself to remember she was still his childhood friend. A woman who deserved respect, and no doubt would demand it.

  He cleared his throat. “Lucky for me Lady Alethea recognized me or I fear the physical harm she could have inflicted.”

  Finlay arched a brow as he looked down at his sister. “Indeed.” He turned an intense stare on Declan. “So why are you hiding on the rooftop?”

  He threw back his shoulders. “Fresh air beckoned.”

  “He needed a reprieve,” Alethea told her brother. “They won’t stop talking until they figure you out, and then they’ll talk more.”

  “A warm welcome home, indeed.” Declan’s tone was as dry as the windswept deserts of the Gobi.

  Finlay pulled out his watch fob. “We should return.” He turned to Declan and extended his hand. “Perhaps we’ll meet at the club sometime soon.”

  “I’d like that.” Declan was surprised to find he meant it.

  “Good-bye, Declan. I enjoyed our chat.” Alethea tucked her arm around her brother’s and offered him a small smile. They walked away, a small cloud of regret enveloping him that their interaction was over so quickly. His chest was lighter, because neither twin had let the echo of his last words to them sour their reunion. He wasn’t convinced he deserved their good humor, but he was thankful for it.

  After a handful of minutes, Declan steeled his spine and made his way back into the fracas. He was hopeful that with time, he would grow used to the spectacle his presence created.

  As he maneuvered around a group of society matrons who watched him with varying expressions before combusting into whispers when he passed, his shoulder collided sharply with another man’s. He immediately turned to apologize when the words froze on his tongue.

  “My apologies, sir.” The Earl of Rockhaven’s eyes grew wide as recognition dawned. “Good gracious, Lord Declan, I almost didn’t recognize you. How do you do?”

  Declan summoned his social smile. He’d always liked Alethea’s father…until the man’s business dealings
all but destroyed the Darington name. “I’m well, my lord. It’s nice to see you again after all these years.”

  “Yes, it’s been over a decade, if I remember correctly.” At Declan’s nod, the earl frowned. “Although I inquired after you, your brother guarded your privacy fiercely.”

  “I’m sure he did.” The words were stale on Declan’s tongue. In truth, he’d be surprised if Albert spoke of him at all. “Now that I’ve returned, I look forward to reviving old friendships and am pleased I had a chance to converse with Lord Firthwell and Lady Alethea earlier.”

  The earl paused, a smile brightening his face. “You spoke with the twins?”

  “I did. It was diverting catching up with old friends.”

  “Like old times, I’m sure,” the earl said, dipping his head in greeting to a passing acquaintance.

  “Indeed.” Declan emphasized the word with more certainty than it warranted. Too much history lay between him and the twins for them to ever return to the carefree friendship of their youth…but perhaps they could come to a different sort of accord, derived from mutual respect and admiration.

  “Well, now that you’ve returned, I’d welcome the chance to meet and discuss how you’ve spent the years.” Rockhaven extended a hand to Declan. “I’ve heard talk that you oversee operations for a sugarcane company, and I’d be happy to learn more about it.”

  “I don’t just oversee operations, I own the company.” He was pleased the man had brought up the idea of meeting, for he had his own motives for agreeing to an audience with the earl. Dropping his voice, he said, “I was also hoping we could discuss any information you have about Albert and his last days.”

  “Bow Street still coming to dead ends?” When Declan nodded, Rockhaven sighed. “I’ll help you in any way I can. Albert was a fine man and his death was a shock.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Glancing about, he noticed patrons making their way back to their boxes. “If you’ll excuse me, I should rejoin my party.”

  “Of course.” The earl clapped him on the shoulder.

  After exchanging good-byes, Declan proceeded to his host’s box, intent on acquiring a stiff drink. His first outing in London society had gone well, he supposed. Despite his illustrious title, his attire, his accent, his background, his very bearing proclaimed him to be an outsider.

  Yet he refused to consider himself an outsider. He’d been born to this life. And he was Darington now, no matter how much he wished he weren’t. He’d be damned if he was treated otherwise.

  Alethea’s jade eyes and teasing laugh flitted through his thoughts, and he admitted that seeing her had seemed a small bit like coming home.

  Chapter Two

  March 1804

  When I speak, I wonder if anyone listens. My voice was once loud, but now I fear it no longer has an echo. Perhaps it’s time I realize silence and acquiescence is all that is required of me.

  -The Diary of Lady Margaret Gordon

  The carriage ride to Rockhaven House was strangely silent, with only the rumble of the wheels over the cobblestones to fill the still air. Alethea and Finlay usually teased each other while their father laughed at their traded barbs. However, the mood inside the cab was oddly quiet. Subdued.

  She, nevertheless, could scarcely keep still. She couldn’t fathom how the night had changed so drastically. One moment, she’d fled the crowded theater for the rooftop, desperate to escape the talk surrounding Declan’s return. In the next moment he was with her, seeking solitude beneath the open sky. Just as he had when they were children, he’d seemed to know just where to find her.

  She was thankful their reunion had occurred privately. In the scarce lighting, she could ignore the awkwardness that lingered between them, and instead enjoy the velvet-smooth timbre of his voice and how it washed over her skin like a gentle breeze. She didn’t have to hide her smile when he shortened his vowels, his French accent bleeding into his words. She could discreetly blink away her tears when he revealed he’d learned of Albert’s death upon his arrival. For a short while, Alethea could imagine no time had passed since the days when they used to run across the meadows together.

  But then she remembered how he’d looked at her before she left the rooftop, and her skin grew warm, and her heart threatened to gallop from her chest. Inexperienced she may be, but even she recognized the admiration and desire that burned in his gaze.

  She clamped her eyes shut and pressed her lips together as she replayed the very satisfying moment Declan realized she was a girl no longer.

  “How did you enjoy the performance?”

  Finlay looked at Alethea, no doubt assuming the earl’s question was directed at her. She managed not to roll her eyes.

  “It was…” Her words stumbled to a halt, her tongue lethargic in her mouth. All thoughts of the opera had been pushed from her mind as soon as Declan appeared. She coughed into her hand as she frantically tried to recall details of the performance. “Do excuse me. I thought it was spectacular. The new singer, John Templeton, promises to be a real talent.”

  “I concur,” her father said, turning to look out the window again.

  Finlay slipped forward until he perched on the edge of his seat. “Did you hear the news, Father? Declan has returned.”

  “I did.” The earl flashed a brief smile then returned his attention to the streets passing out the window. “I actually had an opportunity to speak with the young man.”

  “You did?” Alethea exclaimed before she could censor herself. The dim light didn’t hide how Finlay’s brow furrowed at her reaction.

  “I did. He looks much the same. Said he spoke with you both.”

  Finlay nodded. “We encountered him on the rooftop where Allie retired for a spell.”

  At this, the earl turned in his seat, his gaze locking on hers in spite of the dark cab. “Alone?” When she nodded, he scowled. “Take an escort next time. But why did you need a break?”

  She shifted in her seat, not wanting to reveal the true reason why she’d fled. But as he continued to regard her, his silence finally forced her to blurt out, “I didn’t want to hear the gossip.”

  Her father sighed and relaxed back on the squab. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe we’ll be able to escape it. The new duke has not been seen in over a decade, and he’s an…oddity. Naturally, people will be curious about him and how he intends to comport himself now that he’s Darington. With the rumors, I expect the gossip to increase.”

  “What rumors?” Finlay leaned forward so far Alethea was surprised he didn’t fall.

  “I suppose you’ll hear them eventually.” The man blew out his cheeks. “There has been talk that while the new duke was away, he engaged in some…illegal activities.”

  Pressing a hand to her mouth, Alethea sensed a blast of cold streak under her skin. Declan involved in illegal activities? The assertion, even if merely speculation, seemed so far out of character from the boy she once knew that she was hard-pressed to believe it possible. But you don’t really know him anymore, do you? Heaviness weighed down her shoulders as she remembered how much he could have changed in the years they’d been apart.

  “Activities such as privateering, I wager?” Finlay offered, his lips turning into a disgruntled sneer.

  She scowled. “Why do you assume it’s privateering?”

  Finlay flattened his mouth into an exasperated line. “He’s spent the better part of his years in the West Indies doing God knows what. With his mysterious past and dark looks, I suspect the bacon-brained fools of the ton will whisper he’s a pirate.”

  As she bit back an incredulous laugh, the earl cleared his throat. “Privateering is just one of the rumors being whispered about. Unfortunately, the claims are being investigated by the Foreign Office.”

  Privateering, Alethea thought, disturbed she was not appalled by this revelation. In truth, he looked like he should be standing on the bow of a ship, commanding the wind and waves with the sheer power of his presence. She wished she had thought to ask hi
m about what he’d done during his travels. Surely his tales were more exciting than hers.

  Finlay snorted. “Ridiculous, indeed. Does the Foreign Office really intend to arrest a newly titled duke?”

  “It’s highly unlikely.” Lord Rockhaven drummed his fingers on his knee. “Still, until all this nonsense is sorted out, I expect both of you to do credit to the Swinton name, and fraternizing with one who’s surrounded by scandal will not do.”

  “Are you asking us to avoid him?” Finlay rubbed his temple.

  “Not necessarily. I know the young man will need friends like you, Fin, to help him acclimate to his new role. I plan on meeting with him soon myself.” He paused, waiting until each of them had met his eyes. “But I am asking you to have a care and be mindful of how your actions affect the family name. Darington is followed by a storm of innuendo and if you get too close, you might get swept up in it as well.”

  The carriage rumbled to a halt, a footman opening a door to reveal the limestone walk that led to the front door of Rockhaven House. Samuels could be seen standing just inside the foyer, ready to welcome back the earl.

  Their father doffed his hat and made to exit the carriage, but halted. “And although I hate to say it, I feel I must caution you both not to assume that your old friend remains the same boy you knew.”

  “He does seem like a completely different person,” Alethea admitted reluctantly.

  “Who’s to say he’s not?” The earl raised a brow. “And you may find the new Duke of Darington is not the sort of man you’d like to be friends with after all.”

  With those words, he swept out the door and up the steps.

  …

  Darington Terrace felt like a mausoleum.

  It was obvious Albert had made changes to the townhouse. He’d updated the drapes, added tasteful paintings and sculptures throughout the rooms, and had more shelves built in the study to accommodate the mass of books he’d acquired. Despite this, Declan still sensed his parents’ presence as if they’d just walked out the front door a moment before.