Her Best Friend, the Duke

by Laura Martin

  ‘Father says he’s untrainable,’ Caroline said, looking into the dog’s deep brown eyes. ‘Either that or there’s a problem with his owner.’

  James picked up Bertie’s lead, then offered her his arm. They hadn’t arranged to meet, not directly, but when James was home they often orchestrated a pleasing half an hour together strolling through Hyde Park around this time in the afternoon. After his reaction the night before Caroline had been tempted not to come, but the desire to see him again, to feel her body brush innocuously against his as they walked arm in arm, to hear his deep chuckle and listen to tales of his latest adventures through Europe had proved too much.

  ‘I thought you might not come. Not after you left so abruptly last night.’

  ‘I didn’t leave abruptly.’

  ‘If you’d moved any faster, you would have been running.’

  ‘You had the pretty Miss Preston to entertain you.’

  ‘Yes, she is pretty, isn’t she...’ James mused. ‘Shame about her rather terrible conversational skills. For some reason she seemed intent on twittering on about nothing but the weather and fashion.’

  Caroline let a little giggle escape.

  ‘I’m guessing that was your handiwork?’

  ‘I might have dropped a few hints about your favourite conversational topics, but she is awful. I couldn’t help myself.’

  Bertie was walking sedately for James, allowing the lead to go slack as he trotted contentedly alongside them, sniffing the path as he went, but not haring off after every scent as he would if Caroline was holding his lead.

  ‘Miss Preston was under the impression you were the closest of friends. She informed me a grand total of nine times how close you were.’

  Caroline snorted. ‘Yesterday was the first time she’s ever spoken to me. I’ve received my fair share of disparaging remarks from her before, but she only struck up a conversation when she knew you were back in the country.’

  ‘So I’m to thank for your blossoming friendship.’

  ‘More like to blame.’

  They walked a little way in silence, Caroline’s revelation the evening before hanging between them.

  ‘Have you a moment to sit with me, Cara?’ James motioned to a bench. He was the only person in the world who called her Cara. To most she was Miss Yaxley, and to those close to her Caroline—even her mother didn’t shorten her name—but James knew the truth. One day a few years ago she’d confided that she disliked Caroline and he’d spent half an hour suggesting alternatives until they had settled on one they both liked. So now he called her Cara. She was sure James knew the meaning behind the name—it meant beloved—but he couldn’t know how much she wished it were true, that she was his beloved.

  She nodded, allowing him to lead her across the grass, perching on the cold stone of the bench.

  ‘Your announcement yesterday took me rather by surprise,’ he said quietly. His dark eyes were fixed on hers and Caroline found it hard to concentrate on his words. To the world their bent heads and relaxed manner would signify intimacy and inside that was what Caroline really yearned for.

  Quickly she pushed away the fantasy, hastily looking up and focusing on a spot in the distance.

  ‘I think I may have reacted poorly. I wanted to apologise.’ He tapped her lightly on the hand, as ever oblivious to the effect of his touch.

  ‘There’s no need. I can see why you would be surprised.’

  ‘I do understand, Cara, I understand the desire to share your life with someone, the allure of waking up next to a warm body every morning, to have someone you can discuss affairs with over a leisurely breakfast.’

  ‘It’s not just that.’

  He looked at her and nodded his understanding. ‘Children.’

  ‘Yes. Although I suppose I would be lying if I said that was everything I yearn for. I think it’s different for women. As a man if you are single you still live in your own house, follow your own rules. As a spinster I’m expected to stay in the care of my parents until they die and then I will probably be saddled with some elderly relative as a companion.’

  ‘I can see how that could feel oppressive, but you’ve always said you wouldn’t want to give up your freedom, not to a husband who will make all your decisions for you.’

  ‘Perhaps I just need to find the right man. Someone mild in manner and not overly interested in what I am doing.’

  ‘Someone who marries you just for your dowry?’

  ‘You make it sound so tawdry,’ Caroline said with a flash of heat in her voice. ‘That is what most marriages are, James. Hardly anyone marries for love. A few lucky people might find it unexpectedly along the way, but love matches are few and far between.’

  ‘I know. Of course I know that. Look at me, just the wrong side of forty and still holding out for something that occurs in one relationship in a thousand. Perhaps you have the right idea of it.’

  ‘You were tempted to settle once, too,’ Caroline reminded him gently.

  ‘Lady Georgina.’

  ‘She would have made you happy.’

  ‘I’m sure, but I would have always had that doubt. Wondering whether the next woman I met would be the one I fell completely and hopelessly in love with, miserable because I couldn’t do anything about it.’

  Caroline had never met James’s parents, but knew they were the ones responsible for his completely absurd notions of love. His father had been a duke, his mother a governess, and they had fallen in love at first sight. From the way James told the story they had been perfect for one another, never arguing, always in complete harmony. Caroline suspected he was remembering with a child’s nostalgia, but she couldn’t deny their marriage had stayed strong despite society’s disapproval. All his life James had been waiting for the same thunderbolt of love to strike him.

  ‘It may be a moot point anyway, I have to find a suitable man willing to marry me. No one has offered yet.’ Caroline picked at the embroidery on the hem of her coat. This was one of the issues that had been eating away at her, this fear that she would declare herself finally ready to marry and no one would step forward and offer to take her.

  ‘Don’t be absurd, of course they will.’ He patted her hand again as if she was an elderly spinster aunt and quickly she withdrew it.

  ‘Seven years I’ve been out in society, James, and I’ve not had a single offer.’

  ‘Not one?’

  ‘Not one. Not even from a lecherous old man or a penniless fortune-hunter.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ He sounded genuinely astonished.

  ‘Perhaps I’m unmarriageable.’

  ‘I’m being serious, Cara. You’re intelligent, funny, can make conversation about more than just the weather, and you’ve got a decent dowry and good family connections. The gentlemen should be lining up to ask for your hand in marriage.’

  ‘I lack a certain vital ingredient,’ she said softly, noticing he hadn’t commented on her appearance.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Beauty.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’re a fine-looking woman, Cara.’

  Fine was not beautiful.

  ‘Besides, beauty doesn’t come into it most of the time. As you said yourself, the majority of matches are business transactions.’

  She sighed—she knew it was true. The most likely reason she’d not received a single proposal was because she’d so adamantly not wanted to be proposed to. Over the years she’d actively discouraged courtship from any man who’d shown an interest in her and no one had been interested enough to fight through that discouragement.

  ‘I don’t think I know how to encourage a gentleman’s suit,’ she said softly.

  ‘You don’t know how to flirt?’

  She shook her head. ‘I think I did once, but years of trying to discourage gentlemen has left me unable to remember how to.’

  Caroli
ne thought back to the giddy couple of years after she’d made her debut. She and Georgina had revelled in the attention they’d received, enjoying the dancing and socialising at balls and always having full dance cards. Still, she had always been careful not to encourage anyone too much, to keep everyone at a distance until she had worked out what she wanted. Even from a young age Caroline had been wary of the marriages of the ton. Although her parents were happy, you only had to look around to see the number of couples who disliked each other, who avoided one another all evening or even lived most of their lives apart. It had never been what she wanted.

  ‘Go on,’ James urged, grinning. ‘Flirt with me.’

  ‘I most definitely will not.’

  ‘It’s the only way you’ll learn.’

  ‘I hardly think this will help.’

  ‘Won’t it? You said yourself you used to be able to—perhaps it is all about practice.’

  Caroline felt her heart begin to pound in her chest at the idea of looking into the eyes of the man she loved and casually flirting with him.

  ‘No,’ she said, standing abruptly.

  James caught her by the hand, holding on to it long enough for her to relent and sit back down. He looked at her earnestly, his rich brown eyes burning into hers.

  ‘I want you to be happy, Cara.’ He was still holding her hand and Caroline was finding it hard to concentrate as his fingers moved against hers. ‘And if this is what you think will make you happy, then I will do whatever I can to help.’

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘But I think you may have a point. For so long you’ve pushed eligible gentlemen away, instead choosing to dance with the husbands of friends or the men you know have their sights set on someone else. You’ve shied away from interacting with the men who might view you as a potential wife and as such you’ve forgotten how to talk to them, how to make them want to bring you flowers and write terrible poetry extolling your beauty.’

  Quietly she pressed her lips together. She knew where this was leading and already she wanted to stop him. It would be far too heartbreaking.

  ‘Let me help you. I’ll introduce you to all my eligible friends, of course, dance with you at the balls, extol your virtues at dinner parties, but let me do more than that. Let me be your teacher.’

  ‘My teacher?’ Caroline repeated weakly.

  ‘Twenty years I’ve had women flirt with me—some are bold, some are timid, some are downright bizarre—but I’ve experienced a whole range of tactics and behaviour from women who would like to become my wife. I’m perfectly placed to know what works and what doesn’t.’

  It made sense. Women threw themselves at James wherever he walked, fluttering their eyelashes or trying to engage him in deep conversations. Even so Caroline wasn’t sure her heart could withstand the man she loved tutoring her on how to catch the attention of another.

  ‘I’ll make it fun.’

  Closing her eyes, Caroline nodded. It was a mistake, of course it was. It would mean weeks spent in James’s company, more than she had ever done before.

  Your last chance, she reasoned with herself. Whoever she married wouldn’t be happy about her spending time with an unmarried man. These next couple of months would be the last time she and James would be able to be together without a disapproving spouse getting in the way.

  ‘Wonderful, I’ll draw up a lesson plan tonight,’ James said with a little too much glee in his voice. ‘We can start tomorrow.’

  Weakly Caroline nodded. ‘Tomorrow we will start, but for today can we talk of other things?’

  James stood, giving her the lopsided grin she loved so much, and offered her his arm once again. She knew this was the side that only a treasured few got to see. In public, when surrounded by others, James was reserved and kept his wicked sense of humour hidden. He was the epitome of a perfect duke, almost regal in his bearing and demeanour. In private he was a different man, a man who spun riveting tales out of the smallest adventure, who laughed and teased and found light in any situation.

  ‘Did I tell you about my dip in the English Channel on my way home?’ he queried as they began the stroll back towards the Serpentine.

  ‘You know you haven’t.’ Caroline was smiling already.

  ‘It was a dark and stormy night...’

  Caroline whacked him on the arm lightly.

  ‘Fine, it was a mildly blustery afternoon and I was taking a stroll about the deck. Every time I climb aboard a ship I have this notion that I will learn a little about sailing during the voyage, but in truth all I ever manage to do is get in the way.’

  ‘I’m imagining you in a jaunty seaman’s outfit, telescope in hand.’

  ‘You mock, but I’ve always had a hankering to run away to sea. Although I think they’d take one look at me and tell me I was far too old and far too soft to be of any use.’

  Never too soft. James might have been raised to command, but Caroline knew he kept himself in peak physical condition, sparring regularly at his boxing club and riding for at least an hour a day while in England.

  ‘Anyway, I paused to look at the horizon, fancying I could see England. My eyes were fixed on the dark shadow in the distance and I didn’t see the coil of rope at my feet.’

  ‘You tripped?’

  ‘I tripped. In quite a spectacular fashion. It was at exactly the same moment the ship crested a wave and I—’ He was cut off by an insistent voice from somewhere to their left.

  ‘Your Grace! Your Grace!’

  Together they turned, Caroline recognising the voice immediately and finding it hard to fix anything more than a grimace on her face.

  ‘Miss Preston,’ James groaned under his breath, ‘come to regale me with more snippets from the world of fashion, no doubt.’

  ‘We could run,’ Caroline murmured.

  James glanced at the wide open space around them and the water of the Serpentine just in front as if actually contemplating the idea.

  ‘Or set Bertie upon her.’

  They looked down at the placid dog, thumping his tail happily on the grass.

  ‘He could lick her to death, I suppose.’ Caroline took a small step to her left, putting just a little more distance between her and James before Miss Preston could reach them.

  ‘Miss Preston, how delightful to see you again so soon,’ James said, no hint of the exasperation from a second ago in his voice.

  ‘It’s as though we were fated to be thrown together again,’ she twittered prettily.

  Caroline snorted, having to turn the sound into a rather unconvincing cough.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Yaxley.’

  ‘Good afternoon.’

  Only now did Caroline see Sophie Saltwell trailing behind her friend and she marvelled at how fast Miss Preston must have moved to intercept them.

  ‘I did enjoy our dance last night,’ Miss Preston said, moving in closer and trying to angle herself so she cut Caroline out of the conversation.

  ‘Indeed,’ James murmured.

  Caroline was thankful James was a sensible man. She’d long ago resigned herself to the fact he would never think of her romantically, but a small part of her had always worried he would fall in love with someone completely horrible. She wanted James to be happy, of course she did, but the thought of him marrying someone like Miss Preston made her shudder. Luckily he was an astute judge of character and was practised at seeing who was only interested in his title and his wealth.

  ‘I hope we will get chance to dance again soon. Will you be attending the Tevershams’ ball tomorrow?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘I do hope so. It would make my evening.’ Her voice was sickly sweet and Caroline found herself trying to mimic the coy little half-smile and failing miserably.

  Miss Saltwell finally arrived by her friend’s side, her cheeks flushed and her
chest heaving. She looked expectantly at Miss Preston, who sighed before deigning to introduce her.

  ‘This is Miss Saltwell, Your Grace.’

  ‘Delighted to meet you, Miss Saltwell.’

  Caroline felt Bertie shift on the end of his lead and braced herself. He was a strong dog and when he caught the scent of something he liked there was no stopping him. The last thing she needed was for him to pull her into the Serpentine while Miss Preston looked on, an expression of mock horror on her face.

  ‘Sit, Bertie,’ she whispered, trying to instil a forcefulness in her voice in the hope the bloodhound might choose this moment to listen.

  Bertie strained forward and she gripped the lead with both hands, willing James to find some way to extricate them from the two eager young ladies.

  ‘Such a pleasant autumn day for a stroll,’ Miss Preston was saying. ‘A little blustery, but the clouds are so interesting.’

  ‘Sit, Bertie,’ Caroline commanded a little louder.

  James turned just as Bertie pulled. He lunged for the lead as it was wrenched from Caroline’s hands, his fingers grasping the very end, but it wasn’t enough. Bertie leaped, his tail wagging as he dashed between Miss Preston and Miss Saltwell, making both totter as he bounded past their skirts.

  Caroline gasped as he went at full pelt into the Serpentine, sending a huge splash of water in their direction. It was only luck that saved Miss Preston and Miss Saltwell from being covered in muddy water.

  ‘Scandalous,’ Miss Preston muttered, shaking her head as if Caroline had urged her dog to be so unruly.

  Next to her she heard James suppress a laugh as Bertie paddled through the water, making his way for the family of ducks swimming serenely a few feet out from the bank.

  ‘That dog is fascinated by ducks,’ James said, shaking his head.

  It was true, Bertie loved them. He barked madly every time he saw a duck and was forever trying to pull Caroline off to inspect them whenever they passed by water on one of their walks. It wasn’t the first time he’d jumped into a body of water to investigate further, but the other times it had been when they were safely private in the grounds of Rosling Manor.