The Duke in Denial (Scandal in Sussex Book 1)

by Alexandra Ainsworth

  “Sir, she is not at home. Can I take a message?”

  “No.”

  Whoever was outside had given up. Good. The thought of Dorothea being bothered appalled him. Footsteps retreated.

  Sebastian tapped his fingers against the fabric of the chair. He should have brought a book with him. Though if Dorothea had been at home, he would have appeared foolish showing up with one. Sebastian considered slipping away, uncertain when she would return. But then William might think he had won, and Sebastian refused to allow that. He would place the choice to marry him or not entirely in Dorothea’s hands.

  Rumors surrounded her, whether or not William was aware. Lady Arabella had warned him that Dorothea would find it difficult to become betrothed again given her closeness to her late fiancé. She had little money; her late parents had seen to that. Her engagement to Gregory Lewis had been a love match; perhaps the ton would be more forgiving of her otherwise. They would enjoy tormenting the well-bred yet penniless woman who had come so near to marrying a duke. The ton liked order, and Dorothea had dishevelled society’s rules.

  How could he doom her to a life with no children, no family? Merely because of weaknesses and insecurities he felt? He would be strong for her. He was determined to be a good husband. Eventually, he hoped to be a good father. He smiled, envisioning little feet pattering about the household.

  If she rejected him, that was her choice. He would not think less of her for it. But he could not withdraw now, not after courting her. She did not need more negative attention on her.

  His back stiffened, his mind set.

  When the women finally arrived in the drawing room, he scrambled to his feet. He might as well settle things, and he sprang into action.

  “Dorothea! May I please speak with you?” He glanced at the rest of the room, noticing the startled expressions on the faces of Cousin Penelope and Dorothea’s lady’s maid. “In private?”

  Penelope’s eyes widened, and the maid’s mouth dropped open. Thirty seconds later, they had fled the room, and Dorothea settled on the sofa, arranging her dress so no wrinkles appeared.

  “Your Grace.” Dorothea smiled and folded her hands. She had done this before.

  “Dorothea, my dear.” Sebastian knelt down in front of her, careful to put his knee on the Oriental rug and not on the colder hardwood floor. He had done this before as well.

  “I would be most privileged,” he continued, “if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Our time together has been most enjoyable.”

  “Your Grace.” She clasped her hand over her heart, her expression formal. “You do me a tremendous honor. I accept with the utmost delight.”

  He gazed at her. Her features reminded him of William’s features. He hoped he would not constantly compare them, and he was determined to be a good husband. Whatever obsession he had with William needed to end soon. Was not time the great cure? He smiled at his fiancée.

  “When shall we marry?” Dorothea asked.

  “Excuse me?” The question surprised him. Henrietta had never asked him such particulars. “I thought we might enjoy one of those long engagements.”

  “Why?”

  “Well . . .”

  “I would like to get married soon.” Dorothea lifted her chin and regarded him directly. “We could have children.”

  Sebastian’s chest tightened, and he tried to shove the sensation aside. After all, he approved of her instinct to think of children. This was what he wanted. A family.

  “Let us get married soon, then. You name the date,” he paused, knowing something else was expected of him, “my darling,” he said triumphantly. It was affection. He must remember the affection.

  He would always miss Charlie, but he would have new children, and he would love them. He would love Dorothea. Perhaps he already did.

  “I would like to get married at the end of the season, before London empties.”

  “What a wonderful plan, my darling.” Sebastian calculated the wedding would need to be in three months’ time. “I will make the day special for you. Shall we call Penelope back in?”

  The door swung open, and Sebastian’s cheeks reddened as he realized his cousin must have been listening to their exchange all along. As Penelope gave her congratulations, her voice crescendoing in enthusiasm, the butler answered a knock at the door.

  Perhaps one of Dorothea’s old friends from Lancashire, or one of her new friends from Sussex had called. Or perhaps—perhaps William had returned. He tensed in anticipation. William’s deep voice confirmed his arrival.

  “Good afternoon. I trust you’ve had a pleasant day?”

  “Most assuredly, my dear brother,” Dorothea said. “In fact, I have news for you.”

  “You do?” William entered the room, removing his riding gloves. The cold had made his cheeks rosy.

  “Please, come be seated.” Dorothea’s eyes sparkled.

  Sebastian smiled at her happiness, glad he could give it to her.

  “Of course.” William gazed around the room, meeting Sebastian’s eye. He turned away, perhaps still agitated by their previous conversation.

  Dorothea turned to Sebastian. “Perhaps you should share the news.”

  Sebastian shook his head. This moment belonged to Dorothea. Dorothea smiled and then opened her mouth to speak.

  “Sebastian has proposed,” Penelope squealed. The temptation not to speak had evidently been too challenging. “You have gained a brother, and my friend has gained a delightful fiancé!”

  “Oh.” William blinked, and his eyes clouded. His shoulders fell.

  Sebastian stared at him, but in the next moment, William was smiling.

  The captain rushed to his sister, extending his arms. He pulled her into a hug. “What happy news.”

  “Happy? It is the most romantic thing I heard all year,” Penelope cried, putting her needlework down. “I was in this very room.”

  “When His Grace proposed?”

  Sebastian would have preferred if William’s reference to him were not so formal.

  “I found the experience most exciting,” Penelope said. “He growled that he needed the room to empty, and his eyes flashed with unconcealed passion.”

  Sebastian’s cheeks warmed at her description.

  “Indeed?” William glanced at Sebastian.

  Sebastian lowered his eyes. He was certain he had not been that dramatic. There was no fault in Penelope’s imagination.

  Penelope clapped her hands. “We have a wedding to plan now.”

  She did take after her mother.

  “And now I must go to Brighton,” Sebastian said. “I should see my solicitor to make arrangements.”

  “Brighton?” Penelope spread out her hands. “Captain Carlisle must join you.”

  “Join His Grace?” William’s eyes widened.

  “Oh, I’m sure the captain will be far too busy,” Sebastian hurried to say.

  William nodded, his expression uncertain. He ran his hand through his dark hair. The light caught his locks, revealing strands of auburn. “I would hardly be a good guide.”

  “Nonsense,” Penelope said. “You’ve been to Brighton multiple times this year. What you see in that city is beyond me.”

  William grimaced. “I like the seaside.”

  Penelope turned to him. “Sebastian, you must take Captain Carlisle out sometime to find wedding clothes. His civilian clothes are most limited.”

  “What would you know of my wardrobe?” William asked.

  Penelope laughed. “I’ve been seeing you regularly, remember? You always leave right before Sebastian comes to call.”

  William’s chin dipped down and his ears reddened. “I’m sure that’s not true. A coincidence.”

  Dorothea eyed them. “Perhaps it would not be horrible if you were to spend some time together.”

  Sebastian was once again conscious of their differences in position. William might not want to insult a duke.

  Finally William shrugged and said courteou
sly, “I shall resign myself to that pleasure.”

  Sebastian frowned. William shouldn’t feel forced to be in his presence. “Are you certain? You needn’t for my sake.”

  William smiled. “How kind of you. But my sister is right. We will be family now.”

  Sebastian’s skin warmed, the prospect of spending time with William pleasing him.

  Chapter Six

  “Perhaps I should sit with the driver.” William eyed the carriage with an expression of anguish Sebastian was certain the chaise did not deserve.

  Sebastian swallowed, reluctant to send William away. “Nonsense. You must keep me company. At least for a while. Dorothea tells me you’re fond of visiting Brighton.”

  “Yes.” William shifted his legs away from Sebastian. “I suppose that’s true.”

  William handed his valise to the driver and climbed into the enclosed space. He crossed his arms, his body tense.

  Sebastian sighed. William’s travel habits should not discomfit him. And yet when the man seemed upset, all Sebastian desired was to take him into his arms to comfort him. A line of thought best not continued.

  Sebastian mourned the loss of the easy camaraderie they had shared the night of the ball. William seemed increasingly reserved since discovering Sebastian’s aristocratic title. The whole thing was maddening. Of the two of them, William deserved his status far more. William’s commission alone had not gained him the title of captain. The carriage bumped across the roads, jostling as the wheels maneuvered on the increasingly uneven path as it left the stately homes of Mayfair.

  Sebastian entered into conversation with William about the mild weather, relieved when William’s shoulders relaxed as they pondered the absence of snow over the winter and its relative merits and disadvantages. After a while, the spaces between buildings grew large, separated by expanses of field dotted with sheep and cows. The carriage bounced as the horses trotted over the rough road.

  Their shoulders touched. Just one moment, and yet the surge of heat was unmistakable. Energy burst through Sebastian with all the force of an army bullet, smattering its way to his soul. His body noted the exact feel of William’s muscular shoulders brushing against his, stamping the sensation of warmth on him.

  William’s legs stretched out, long and sturdy. At the next jolt, Sebastian’s leg joined them. He stared straight ahead, conscious that William was doing the same. He should move his leg, but he found he could no more shift than he could change the structure of his very being. Instead, he enjoyed the sensation of warmth, as if their bodies communicated in a language hidden from all reason.

  At intervals, the carriage halted and Sam changed the horses. They arrived in Brighton late, staying in a guesthouse. The sounds of William in the next room wafted through to Sebastian’s. Dorothea was right. The man did pace.

  *

  Where London was gray, its gilded buildings a futile attempt to exert some beauty into the often cloudy, often rainy city, Brighton exuded lightness. The ocean, in all its magnificence, far surpassed the murky Thames that cut through the capital.

  Sebastian stood beside the sea. The waves flung white foam onto the rocky shore at rapid intervals. Behind him, the town was still, though the sky seemed eager to replicate the energy of the ocean. Feathery clouds advanced above, rearranging into ever newer shapes. Seagulls sailed above him, occasionally flapping their wings vigorously before darting off.

  “Not a day for a top hat.” William’s voice sounded behind him, cutting through the hum of the wind and waves.

  Sebastian turned around. “No trees for me to climb into.”

  “Or for me to rescue you from.” William laughed, his eyes crinkling.

  Sebastian’s heart swelled, and he stared at William, momentarily transfixed.

  “So.” William shoved his hands in his pockets. “Were you able to visit the solicitor?”

  Sebastian nodded. He didn’t want to admit to the man that his solicitor had confirmed some people were questioning how he became duke.

  Hammerstead’s insinuation that Sebastian may have been involved in the deaths of the former duke and heir still rattled him. “Let’s walk on the seafront.”

  Their boots crunched over the rocky shore. William moved quickly in the bright light, as if no longer constrained by the solemn furniture in the townhouse.

  They made small talk. Both Sebastian and William preferred the country, and they scoffed at some of the formalities of the ton.

  “Well, Duke,” William said finally, “where shall we venture to now?”

  Sebastian nodded. “I think your sister wants us to go to a tailor. She does not seem confident your years as a soldier have properly schooled you on the intricacies of modern fashion.”

  William scowled. “Are you calling me unfashionable? Did you not notice the gold thread on my uniform?”

  Sebastian swung his head to the captain, his shoulders relaxing when the man winked.

  “That detail had not escaped my attention.” Sebastian’s cheeks warmed as he remembered running his hands over William’s coat before the ball. He lifted his head defiantly. “I find it most pleasing to the eye. Is that why you joined the army?”

  “Naturally.” William grinned. “I had the choice between the clergy and the army, and the army won. Could you imagine me in the clergy?”

  “I can imagine you doing anything,” Sebastian said solemnly.

  William’s earnest expressions and instances of empathy were not unlike what he would hope to find in a clergyman.

  “I do appreciate a uniform,” Sebastian said, worried the conversation had escalated to an overly intimate level.

  “As do I,” William murmured.

  “I think you would look wonderful in a clergyman’s robes,” said Sebastian. “I can just imagine you sweeping around the aisles in them. All those elderly women staring up at you in awe.”

  “I would make a dreadful clergyman.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Sebastian. “I cannot imagine you being dreadful at anything. You are frightfully good at rescuing wardrobe items.”

  “Or perhaps you are simply very good at losing them.”

  Sebastian laughed. His chest filled with warmth again, and he turned his gaze to the pounding waves of the ocean. The seafront road narrowed, and they moved to walk single file. Their shoulders brushed together, and Sebastian cleared his throat. He ducked onto a narrow lane, away from the seafront, and William followed. The area was shabbier than the center of Brighton.

  “What’s down those lanes?”

  William gazed over the street. His face whitened a bit. “Nothing much. Nothing savory.”

  “Then it’s good I have an army captain with me,” Sebastian said. “Come on. Chances are I’ll be with the solicitor all afternoon, and I want to see some of the town before.”

  William paled, and Sebastian chuckled to himself. Nothing should frighten him here. True, the area was likely not the nicest part of Brighton, but was not the journey the most important part? Sebastian had dressed plainly, and he did not feel he would be targeted too much by thieves or ruffians. And in truth, the area was not too bad.

  “Oh, well.” William’s jaw set. “I suppose I should come with you.” He pulled his hat down in front of his face and hurried forward without a glance at his surroundings.

  Sebastian lagged behind, taking in the town. The area lacked glamour, and perhaps William’s instinct to hurry through was correct.

  “What are we supposed to do for a whole hour here?” William gazed around.

  If Sebastian did not know better, he would have said William appeared nervous. But William had fought soldiers over on another continent, and he had no reason to be afraid of anything here.

  “We can just stroll.”

  “Stroll?” William’s eyes widened. “Here? Oh, no.”

  Sebastian stopped. “Why?”

  “It’s not suitable for one of your position.”

  Sebastian stopped. “My position?”

&nb
sp; Sebastian started walking. If William didn’t want to be seen with him, he needn’t follow.

  “Oh, fine.” William said as he hurried after him.

  “Look where we are.” Sebastian scanned the square ahead of them. His shoulders deflated. Perhaps William was correct to dissuade him from coming here. He had been in more glorious settings than Brighton. York was more glorious. Well, even Hull was more glorious than this. And that had not been on top form since the Hanseatic League dissolved.

  Chickens wandered the muddy square. The nearby horses seemed more tired and less groomed. Children played along the street. Some women, vibrantly dressed with painted faces, leaned against a corner wall.

  More noteworthy was the inn across the street – The Cock’s Head.

  “An unusual name for a tavern,” Sebastian said.

  “So it is,” said William.

  “I suppose they are rather into chickens here.”

  William turned to Sebastian. “Let’s depart.”

  Sebastian hesitated. William glanced around, his eyes worried. He leaned closer to Sebastian. “Or I’ll go. I—I have other things to attend to. But you should leave soon too.”

  Sebastian nodded and then cursed himself as William walked away. That had not been what he had intended. He just wanted to get to know the man better. But it seemed that was impossible.

  He headed in the direction of the sea, glimpsing the waves from between the buildings on the narrow street.

  “Sir?” A low, gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Sebastian swiveled his head. An older man, perhaps in his forties, grinned at him. “Your first time here?”

  “Yes. I’ve never been to Brighton before.”

  “Oh, this isn’t just Brighton.”

  Sebastian blinked, unsure what the man meant.

  “Permit me to show you around. It doesn’t do to have strangers getting lost here.”