Say Yes to the Duke

by Kieran Kramer

  Luke couldn’t tell Janice this, but he saw exactly why Grayson would want to marry her. She reminded a man that amid the rubbish of life there were puppies.

  And sweet kisses.

  Acceptance and laughter.

  It was as simple as that.

  She sighed. “Are we done yet with the revelations?”

  “I’ve nothing left to say.” Except that he wanted her and the fact that he couldn’t have her hurt more than anything else ever had.

  She wriggled in his lap. “I’ve one thing left.”

  “And it is?”

  She looked at him over her shoulder at the same time that she snaked her hand between his legs and cupped his privates. “I want to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”

  He wished he could tell her the truth—that she already had.

  * * *

  Janice was amazed at how quickly Luke’s erection sprang to life beneath her fingers. She turned completely around to straddle him and stroked the hot, hard length of him while he held on to her back.

  “Steel sheathed in satin,” she whispered. “Am I pleasing you?”

  “Yes.” He reached up a hand to cup her head and drew her close for a deep kiss that filled her with a sense of utter rightness.

  She belonged here, with him.

  Groom or no, he was her man like no other.

  Now she understood what Mama and Marcia were talking about. The knowing was a mystery. What was between her and Luke was whole and perfect, as if it had been there all along and always would be. It had only taken special eyes to see.

  This was what love was.

  And she didn’t know how she would ever leave him.

  When he found his release, his seed spilled over her hands and onto her lower belly and she marveled at the strength of him even at his most vulnerable. As his pleasure receded, his head lolled to the left and he opened one eye to peek at her.

  She laughed. “Satisfied?”

  He grabbed her close. “Never completely. As long as you’re around, I want more. But yes, for a moment there, it was sheer heaven.”

  They kissed, but it was more a conversation without words. There were pauses, questions, affirmations, denials. Afterward he wiped evidence of their intimacy off of her belly and hands with a piece of clean flannel from the stack on the table.

  “You should go,” he said.

  Was that regret she heard in his voice?

  Of course it was. She was beyond wondering. He cared for her. That much was clear. But what did it matter?

  Whatever happens, it does, she thought.

  She did have to go, so she picked up her night rail and he helped her don the yards of soft muslin and lace.

  “I have much to accomplish tomorrow,” she said, adjusting her sleeves.

  He pulled her braid out of the back. “What will you tell the duke?”

  “That I can’t marry him.” Never in a million years would she consider it. And not simply because of his vile wager. She wanted to tell Luke that even had the duke been a good man, her heart belonged to another.

  To him.

  For a moment, they did nothing but look into each other’s eyes.

  “That’s the right decision,” he eventually said, fingering the tendrils of hair at her temple.

  She wished he would tell her that his heart would break the day she married another man—any man.

  But he didn’t.

  And she shouldn’t expect it.

  Just as he should expect nothing from her.

  Her eyes stung as he buttoned her into her coat, but by the time he was finished she had herself under control. They spent a few more seconds together at Esmeralda’s stall.

  “I’ll be in the duke’s bad books as of tomorrow,” Janice said, “so I don’t know how much time I’ll have left here. I assume he’ll want to send me packing as soon as the snow melts.”

  “I think so,” Luke said softly.

  “I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I should, of course. After hearing about this bet, I should pack my bags and leave as fast as I can. But there are the puppies. The dowager. And you.”

  Luke put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t like to see you go, either.”

  It was the most he’d ever said to her about his feelings. But she hoped he meant it. Oh, how she hoped! Even if it was futile.

  She buried her face in his coat. “I can’t marry him. I never thought I’d be horrified at the idea of marrying a duke.” Her voice was a little muffled, but she didn’t care. She wished she could scream into Luke’s coat—scream at the world, which was so unfair.

  “You are unusual,” he said with a tinge of amusement. “But no one who knows the truth could blame you for turning him down.”

  She gave a little chuckle. “Life is strange sometimes.”

  “Very surprising.” Luke smoothed her hair again, and she preened like a cat. “Did you ever think as you were traveling here that you’d spend more time in the tack room than the drawing room, for instance?”

  She looked up, smiling. “I can never tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to. That’s between us.” Their own special memory. One that she’d carry with her all her life.

  “Now that it’s apparent you won’t be staying,” he said, “I can’t force you anymore to look for my mother’s journal. So consider yourself free of that obligation, at least.”

  “You’re not getting rid of me so easily,” she said. “I plan to continue looking for it anyway—at least until the duke forces me out of here. Until that time, expect to see me every night with a full report of the day’s search. On one condition.”

  “And that is?”

  “You said you had other people relying on you. I want to know more. What do you know of your mother?”

  “She lived at the orphanage with me, until I was almost four. I thought she was a nun. She took care of me, sang me to sleep, held my hand. But she was dressed in a habit. I didn’t know, but she was hiding.”

  “Why?”

  “The nuns don’t probe. They simply accept. And they accepted that my mother was afraid, and that she needed a place of refuge. It wasn’t until right before her death that she told Sister Brigid about the journal.”

  “Sister Brigid?”

  “She runs the orphanage.”

  “I’m glad you told me,” Janice said. “This makes my search even more imperative. It seems as if this mistreatment must have been severe. Emily was afraid. But of whom? And why? I wish you’d told me earlier. Is there anything else?”

  “No.” He was too detached when he said it—his old self.

  She saw it in his eyes, the shutter that came down when he didn’t want to connect. “There is something,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “You’re lying.” She laid a hand on his forearm.

  “And you’re much too nosy.” He pulled away.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me anything, Mr. Callahan. But know this”—she spoke an inch from his face, up on her toes—“the truth always comes out.” She thought about how it had in her own family: for Marcia and, most recently, for Gregory. “And I, for one, believe that standing in that truth is better than running away from it. Nothing good can come of running. Ever.”

  She left the stable door wide open. Luke stood in its frame and watched her stride back to the darkened house, her arms swinging, her braid swaying on her back. She slipped once on the icy path but regained her footing and kept going, not missing a beat.

  Overhead, the moon was like a silver platter laid on an ink black tablecloth. Remember this, he thought, and basked in the sight of her. Janice. He allowed himself to call her that.

  Come morning, he’d be one day closer to never seeing her again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Janice began to walk as quietly as possible up the main staircase at Halsey House, her stomach roiling at the memory of how kind the duke had been just the evening before on the same set of stairs. He’d
told her she had a glow about her.

  How despicable of him to flatter her to her face and work against her behind her back.

  The only light tonight came from the glare of the moon through the transom above the front door, but it was brilliant enough that she saw from the case clock below that it was half past two. All was still. Her stomach was tied in knots, and she wondered if she’d ever get sleep. She needed to. Tomorrow was going to be a momentous day—in an uncomfortable way—what with her turning down Halsey’s offer.

  She’d been so excited, thinking that perhaps she could fall in love with him. He’d been attentive on their tour of the conservatory and portrait gallery. He’d been kind to his grandmother. He’d had the intellectual curiosity Janice desired in a mate, along with good looks. She could even be enchanted by the fact that he had a premium title and gobs of wealth—enough to rescue her from her precarious social position and make her parents proud of her.

  Everything was in place, or so she’d thought.

  Except for the fact that she preferred a groom to him—and, unbeknownst to her, the duke had made a lecherous bet about her.

  She paused halfway up the stairs, the base of her spine tingling from a sense that someone was watching her.

  She prayed that if it had to be anyone it would be one of the women. Janice understood them better now and would plead with them to keep her nighttime wanderings secret.

  But her stomach clenched when she looked over her shoulder and saw a man’s form at the base of the staircase. The moon made it very clear that it was the Duke of Halsey himself.

  “Don’t bother wishing you hadn’t turned to see me,” he said quietly. “I would have recognized you by that braid alone. No other woman here has hair that reflects the moon so well.”

  Her heart was out of control, but she gripped the railing hard in an effort to master her panic. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  He gave a low laugh. “Come down, Lady Janice. We’ll talk about where you’ve been. Although I already know.” He bent down and picked up a piece of straw from the tile floor. “The stables. Yet again.”

  She took a few steps down. “I have been there. But I was with—”

  “The dog and her puppies?”

  “You know about those?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course. I’m master here, my lady. I know everything that goes on. As I told you when you arrived.”

  “But you didn’t, Your Grace. You didn’t know that I was coming here at all.”

  “Why are you being so obstreperous, my dear?” He gave a short laugh. “You know I find it mesmerizing—is that it? You say no to me, but you say yes to everyone else. To Mrs. Friday, my grandmother, to my other guests. And don’t think I don’t know about that groom. Have you said yes to him, Lady Janice?”

  His tone was silky, almost as if he’d like it were she to admit that she’d done scandalous things with another man.

  Her legs began to shake so hard, she sank down to the steps. “What do you want from me, Your Grace?” She placed her palm on her coat, above her heart, and had a sudden flash of longing for Luke.

  “I want you to come down here. Now. We’re going to finish this conversation in the library.”

  “There’s nothing to speak about,” she said. “You may rescind your offer. I won’t marry you. I know about your wager.”

  There was the slightest pause.

  He put the edge of a boot on the stairs and his hand around the finial at the bottom of the banister. “So the groom told you?”

  “I don’t know what groom you’re referring to. My own driver told me.” She could use Oscar’s name. His job wouldn’t be in jeopardy. “And it was despicable of you.”

  He didn’t deserve being called Your Grace, and she wouldn’t do it anymore. Her nerves were shot, and she felt tears building behind her eyes.

  “I’m sure it was very upsetting to hear,” he said softly.

  His tone set her even more off balance.

  He pushed off the step. “Come with me to the library. I’m going to pour you a brandy. You could use one. So could I.”

  For the first time, she considered going. She did need something. She’d been here only a few days, and nothing had been simple. Nothing.

  She stood and walked down the stairs, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. But if she went to bed now, she’d never sleep. She might as well finish the conversation.

  He waited for her, but he didn’t offer his arm. Thank goodness. Because she wouldn’t have taken it. They walked side by side down the main corridor, and as they went it grew darker as they left the bright moonlight behind.

  Once inside the elegant room, a tribute to leading a civilized life, she stood quietly while he lit a lamp and poured two brandies. When he handed her one, their fingers touched and she felt instantly repelled, although she did her best not to show it. It would bring her as low as he was.

  “So you dislike me more than ever, I see.” He indicated a chair for her to sit on.

  Oh, well. So much for disguising her feelings.

  She lowered herself onto an Egyptian-style chair and took a large sip from her glass. Ugh. It burned. But it was also what she needed. “You can’t expect me to have any sort of respect or affection for you after finding out what you’ve done.”

  He leaned on the edge of his desk. “Am I supposed to have any of the same for you? The woman who claimed she’d consider my proposal—while staying out until the middle of the night in my stables?”

  He had her there.

  She swallowed more of the brandy, and this time she began to appreciate the flavor as well as the fiery sensation it produced. “I was going to tell you in the morning that I couldn’t accept your proposal.”

  “Have you considered that it was extraordinary that I offered in the first place?”

  “Oh, I know it was.” She nodded. The brandy was beginning to relax her. “I never expected you, a duke, to offer for me.”

  “Yet you’re saying no.”

  “Correct.”

  He stood and paced before the fire. “This is how I see it, my lady. You’ve not had a very successful run in London. Your older sister’s reputation seems to overshadow you. You’ve now been found by me—a peer of the realm with great influence and a sterling reputation—wandering about after midnight, unchaperoned, up to who-knows-what.” He stopped and stared at her, and she couldn’t help blushing. “And you also have a terrible scandal following at your heels, waiting to trip you up.”

  “What scandal?” she whispered.

  “Must I repeat it?”

  “Yes. Let me hear from your lips what it’s about.” She hoped he felt vile and guilty and slimy as he recounted it.

  “It seems that a young man named Finnian Lattimore might have ruined you.” He eyed her speculatively. “Or he might not have. But there’s been talk.”

  She sighed. “It’s a lie.”

  He stopped pacing. “The wager I embarked upon was to determine if the rumor was true.”

  “How loathsome of you to take ridiculous gossip and use it as fodder for your own entertainment!” She stood, her breath coming in shallow bursts.

  “True or not, the rumor is there. And I admit that you’re right. My participating in such a bet was a heinous act of cruelty. Shallow. Disgusting.”

  “Yes, and if anyone in London knew—”

  “But they won’t. Because then you’d have to reveal the rumor, which not everyone has heard, have they? Probably including your own parents.”

  “No.” She gripped her glass hard. “They can’t have. At least, I pray they haven’t.” She watched him pour himself another brandy. “So why am I here? I won’t apologize for turning down your offer. And I rescind being grateful for it. That’s all I can do at this point, because you’re right. I can’t bring down the Duke of Halsey, and I’m not interested even if I could. I simply want to be left alone. But what will you do?”

  He came close to her and took t
he fingertips of her free hand. She wouldn’t let him see her flinch, but she wanted to pull away.

  Desperately.

  His knowing brown eyes looked into hers. “Even now you captivate me, Lady Janice. You act as if this rumor can’t be true, yet you’re spending time in the hay in my stables. You turn down my proposal of marriage, yet your good reputation is seriously in danger of being lost forever.”

  “And you acted as if you had genuine respect for me,” she retorted, “yet you were a snake in the grass waiting to strike. Is that why you suggested that near proposal? So you could talk me into your bed this week—only to rescind the offer when the snow melts and you can be rid of me?”

  She did pull away from him. She walked to the other end of the room to get as far away from him as she could.

  He followed her and sprawled in a chair a few feet away. “My offer was sincere. And still stands. I told you in my grandmother’s sitting room that every day I’ve had opportunities to marry and not one woman has stirred me to even consider it until you arrived. I’ll admit that I was thrown off by your blunt rebuttals of nearly everything I said. No woman has ever spoken to me quite that way. Nor any man. But the truth is, Lady Janice, your opposition is the very reason I must have you as my duchess.”

  Her opposition …

  Good Lord, the dowager’s advice had been right on target! And now Janice wished with all her heart she’d never followed it. She’d done so out of fear. She hadn’t believed in herself. She’d needed something outside to prop her up—

  But it was wrong.

  Wrong.

  She had plenty to offer the world.

  “I want you because you don’t want me.” He took a sip of brandy and shrugged.

  “But I was playing a game,” she said. “A stupid game. I told you no simply to get your attention, and now I rue that I ever did.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I knew you loved Paris. And I could tell you adored Shakespeare. I also knew that you wished to look at the stars through my telescope. And I happen to believe you like strawberries and sparkling wine.”

  She sighed. “I do. Very much. I was being foolish. And false. I was desperate for approval, and I believed that by standing out from the others, I might get it.”