Say Yes to the Duke

by Kieran Kramer

  Grayson eyed Luke with a sneer. “Go ahead and make excuses, you lout, but they won’t work. Lady Janice herself tacitly admitted to what I just told Lord Brady.”

  Luke folded his arms and gazed steadily at the marquess. “I’m here to say I’m guilty of loving your daughter, my lord, and I want her to be my wife. I’m asking you for her hand in marriage right now. She loves me. And I love her. I’ll fight until I win her. And for the rest of our lives together, I’ll fight to make her the happiest woman on earth.”

  There.

  He was standing in the truth. His truth. And it felt like nothing he’d ever done before.

  Lord Brady’s face registered shock, but he managed to get it under control almost immediately. He exhaled a deep breath and skewered Luke with an ominous look. “Will my daughter back up your claim?”

  “Yes,” he said. “She will.”

  “Then I’ll withhold judgment until I speak to her,” the marquess said.

  “Wait, Brady.” Grayson’s scorn was palpable. “You’re not actually considering his offer, are you?”

  Lord Brady looked at the duke with a mildly annoyed expression. “I’m making no decisions about anything without hearing my daughter’s say in the matter.”

  “He’s a groom,” Grayson said. “For God’s sake, man, do you Irish have no pride?”

  Lord Brady whipped around and grabbed Grayson’s jacket. “Take it back,” he said, “unless you want your face to look like one of those Irish potatoes you Sassenach love to partake of at all your meals.”

  “All right,” Grayson said, clearly rattled. “I’m sorry.”

  Lord Brady shoved him hard—just as he’d done Luke—but Grayson couldn’t hold his ground as well as Luke could. He stumbled and nearly fell. His cool aplomb was nowhere to be found.

  It had been a long time coming. Only Luke wished he’d been in Lord Brady’s place to deliver that ducal set-down.

  “The ladies can’t get back soon enough,” Lord Brady muttered. “Let’s go, boys.”

  He ignored Grayson.

  Hell, Luke would, too. Let him take care of his own horse. It was a great feeling not to have to Your Grace the blackguard anymore.

  Riding back, Luke let his horse gallop down the old farm road toward the stable block. Fighting out in the open was so much more fulfilling than making the occasional sneaky jab, he thought. It left him vulnerable to attack, yes, but bring on your worst, he thought—

  He was ready.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Janice knew her luck wouldn’t hold out for long. The trip back to Halsey House in the carriage made up for the uneventful one they’d taken to see the orchids.

  Mama was shaking her head. “Are you telling me you’re in love with a groom?”

  Janice nodded. “But he’s really a duke. And I don’t know if he knows it. Good God, I didn’t know it until reading the notebook.”

  Marcia took her hand. “As outrageous as all this sounds, the sitting duke wouldn’t be the first to hold a title he shouldn’t be in possession of. I wonder what he knows about the whole business?”

  “I wonder, too,” Janice said. “Luke was very cagey about telling me anything about his search for the diary, other than the fact that his mother was likely mistreated and he wanted to find out more. But was he actually looking for it to prove his claim to the title?”

  “You’ll have to ask him,” said Mama.

  A dark shadow moved across Janice’s heart. “I-I’m almost afraid to—because if he did know and he intentionally didn’t tell me, then I can’t trust him.”

  Marcia sighed. “Men often think that by shielding us from certain things they’re protecting us. Don’t be too hard on him if that’s the case.”

  “Cynthia, put your hands over your ears,” said Mama sternly.

  Cynthia, eyes wide, did as she was told.

  “Hum,” Mama added.

  Cynthia began to hum.

  “You call him Luke,” Mama said to Janice.

  Janice blushed. “Yes.”

  “I presume that if you’re in love with him and you call him Luke you two have had opportunity to spend private time together.”

  Janice was hesitant to nod, but Marcia squeezed her hand. “Yes, Mama,” Janice said, “we have, but you don’t have to worry.”

  Cynthia cast a sideways glance at her mother. She was still humming a nameless little tune that only added to Janice’s agitation.

  “Oh, take your hands off your ears.” Mama pried up her youngest daughter’s cupped palms. “You’ll have to learn of these things soon enough.”

  Cynthia dropped her hands and grinned, apparently astonished at her good luck.

  Mama looked round at the three of them. “As you well know, love is a necessary ingredient in a marriage, whatever the Polite World says to the contrary. And one of the best parts of loving your husband is what takes place between the two of you in the privacy of your bedchamber.”

  “And sometimes elsewhere,” Marcia interjected lightly.

  Cynthia’s mouth stayed closed, but her eyes grew round as saucers.

  Mama glared at Marcia. “This is not the time.”

  Marcia patted her mother’s knee. “Mama, we mustn’t make the girls too nervous. I know you don’t mean to, but—”

  “But what?”

  “You sound a bit stuffy.”

  “Me?”

  Marcia nodded. “Marriage can be quite amusing,” she told her younger sisters. “Let’s leave it at that.”

  Mama’s pretty forehead puckered but quickly smoothed out. She couldn’t stay angry for long when all three of her daughters were smiling at her. “My point is that if you love a man enough to want to be with him that way, I certainly hope you’ll do everything in your power to win him. Sometimes men can be a bit, shall we say, blind to the obvious.”

  Marcia nodded vigorously. “They’re lovely just the way they are, but occasionally they need to be reminded of how lucky they are to have you in their lives.”

  “Yes,” said Mama. “But it shouldn’t have to happen often. He should be running after you—and not the other way around.”

  Janice’s heart sank at that.

  “Is he not running after you, Janice?” Cynthia’s beautiful head tilted in curiosity.

  Janice shook her head.

  Mama and Marcia exchanged concerned glances.

  “But it’s because he’s a groom,” Janice explained. “A young lady of the ton can’t marry a groom.”

  “You mean the way a marquess can’t marry a seamstress?” Mama said coolly.

  Cynthia gasped. “But Mama, you were a seamstress. And look at you!”

  Mama patted her leg. “Yes, I know, dear. That’s my point.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I’m sorry,” Janice said to her mother. “I should have thought of you and Daddy.”

  “It’s all right,” Mama replied, “but if it’s love—true love and not mere infatuation—then it’s enough.”

  “I know about infatuation.” Janice wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. “I had that with Finn. He was handsome and witty, and he hung on my every word.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Marcia, chuckling.

  They exchanged a private smile.

  “Just look at Daddy and me,” Mama reminded them. “Whoever thought a lowly seamstress could rule his brawny Irish heart? And that I’d discover a marchioness in me just waiting to come out?”

  All of them laughed so long that Marcia had to wipe her eyes with her handkerchief. “You did find her, Mama,” she said. “Sometimes I forget that you weren’t born and bred to your position.”

  “Neither were you.” Mama smiled. “Neither as an earl’s wife or as headmistress of a fine girls’ school.”

  “But love changes everything,” Cynthia piped up. “Pippa says it all the time. Her uncle Bertie told her so.”

  “Well, Uncle Bertie was right.” Mama patted Cynthia’s hand.

  Janice sighed. “I wis
h Luke believed so, but he doesn’t. I told him that he doesn’t know any better. He’s never been in a family. He’s never seen that you can take an impossible situation and make it better. They were so busy at the orphanage, he never got much attention. And the nuns were always struggling. He saw nothing fixed. And then he ran away.”

  “That’s a shame.” Marcia sent her a solemn look. “Do you think he loves you?”

  “I know he does.” Janice gazed into her lap and thought about their time together in the cellar. “He admitted it, although he didn’t mean to.”

  “He’s afraid,” Mama said.

  Janice looked up at her. “That’s what I told him.”

  The carriage rolled quietly on for a few minutes.

  “What are we going to do when we get back?” asked Cynthia. “Janice, you can’t marry the Duke of Halsey now. Oops, I mean the pretender.”

  Mama sighed. “Darling, we mustn’t call him a pretender. He might know nothing of his family history. We need to give him the benefit of the doubt until all this is sorted out.”

  “All right.” Cynthia leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I hope it’s resolved soon. I want to celebrate something.” She sat up. “Who ever thought you’d marry?” she asked Janice. “I was beginning to wonder. Your beaus dropped off last Season so precipitously, it was like you had the plague.”

  “Cynthia!” Marcia chided her.

  Mama, too, glared at her.

  “Sorry,” Cynthia mumbled, two stains of red on her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. I only meant that it made no sense to me. Janice, you were as pretty and agreeable as ever.”

  “It’s all right, little sister,” Janice said. She could discuss that prickly issue with equanimity now. “I know my beaus disappeared. And one reason is because I was afraid to be myself. I was hiding and didn’t want to make waves, to the point that I became invisible and … lost my own way. But no worries, I’ve found it again.”

  She’d never tell them the other reason—the malicious gossip about her sleeping with Finn. And now she wondered how much influence it had really had. Perhaps she’d seemed an easy target.

  But from now on, she’d create her own impressions, and she’d start with singing. It was an important part of who she was, and she no longer wanted to ignore it.

  Luke, too, was an important part of who she was.

  If only he could see it, too.

  “I can’t wait to show him the diary,” she told her mother and sisters. “I’d like to talk to him alone first, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course,” said Mama. “We’ll all exit the carriage as if we know nothing. This is a delicate matter, and I trust you, Janice, to handle it that way.”

  “Of course,” she said. “By the way, Daddy already knows I don’t want to accept Halsey’s offer.”

  “He does?” Mama sat up straighter. “How did you manage that?”

  “Before you even came into the house, I told him,” Janice said.

  “Before you knew Luke was a duke?” Cynthia asked.

  “Of course,” said Janice. “I don’t care about that. If I did, I’d marry the current one.”

  Cynthia grinned. “That’s right.” She turned to Mama. “What will happen after Janice speaks to Luke?”

  Mama looked round at them all. “We’ll just have to believe what we believe—that love can work its magic, even if things get a bit messy.”

  “They’re bound to,” Marcia said with a shrug.

  Janice looked out the window and saw the house looming. Her heart pounded as she thought of giving Luke the diary.

  And then she thought of the dowager. What would she think of having a new grandson?

  Surely she’d be pleased. And now Janice knew what the duchess had meant when she’d gotten confused about which young duke Janice was referring to. All along, somewhere in her memory, Her Grace had known she had a missing daughter-in-law and a missing grandchild.

  In fact, she knew he’d been a boy.

  Which made Janice wonder if the dowager had traced Luke as far as the orphanage and then lost the trail.

  “Why are all the men out there standing in a half circle with their arms crossed?” Marcia craned her neck to see out the other window, where the stables were visible.

  “Something’s happening.” Mama’s voice was taut with concern.

  “And that something looks like trouble,” Cynthia whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “They’re waiting for us,” Janice said.

  She was right. Halsey waved a hand. Instead of the carriage going straight to the front door of the house, it went to the stable block.

  “It’s a better place to fight,” Cynthia said glibly. “Lots of open space. Near the house you have all those hard stone steps and those holly bushes. I’d hate to be thrown into one of those.” She shuddered.

  Everyone stared at her and said nothing.

  She shrugged. “I’m only saying.”

  Janice hated to agree with her, but she was sure Cynthia was correct. Daddy must have had his talk with Halsey.

  The carriage rolled to a rather abrupt halt. The driver, obviously, was excited by the scene awaiting them.

  Janice peered up at the windows on the second floor of the stable block. Sure enough, there was Oscar’s round face, Aaron’s, and five other stablemen’s, all watching from an open window—

  And waiting.

  Was anyone watching at the house? She imagined Isobel, Mrs. Friday, Mrs. Poole, and even the dowager and the Duke of Beauchamp might be. Heavens, probably everyone in the house was glued to a window.

  “Here’s the book.” Marcia handed it to her and kissed her cheek. “It doesn’t look as though you’ll get that private time to speak to him first. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Janice said a quick prayer and got out first. But she waited until her mother and sisters were behind her.

  She skimmed the faces in the semi-circle. Their gazes were grim and the mouths straight lines—save for Robert’s. He couldn’t help the glimmer of excitement in his eyes and a quirky little grin. He knew what was coming. Boys would be boys, so she couldn’t fault him.

  Janice swallowed the dry lump in her throat. What was coming?

  A queasy stomach compelled her take a quick glance at Mama over her shoulder for comfort, and Mama smiled. You can do it.

  But do what? Janice wasn’t sure. She needed—

  She needed Luke.

  She swiveled her head back to meet his gaze and felt calmer. She’d been so nervous when she’d first descended from the carriage, she hadn’t really looked specifically at him. But there he was—so distinguished with that slightly crooked line of his nose making his handsome face all the more endearing.

  He was so manly.

  And sweet.

  He smiled at her, and immediately hot tears welled her vision.

  She had hope.

  Hope.

  And this time he’d given it to her—not the other way around.

  “You can be with other people, Luke Callahan,” she said aloud to him. “And you’re good for them. You’re good for me.”

  Her words echoed off the stable block wall.

  Halsey stepped forward and flung his gaze at Daddy. “What did I tell you? She’s got stars in her eyes.”

  “That she does,” said Daddy, his tone sober. But he didn’t say more.

  It seemed he was waiting, too.

  Luke stepped forward. “I’ll say it here before the world. I love you, Lady Janice Sherwood. And I’ll fight for you with every last breath in my body.”

  He did? And he would?

  Everything became a starry blur until she wiped her eyes. “But there are things we’ve yet to discuss. Things in this book.” She held it up.

  “Whatever it holds, it doesn’t change anything,” Luke said. “We belong together. And from now on, your story will be mine. And mine will be yours.”

  Their gazes locked, and she read in his a new bold
ness that had nothing to do with how well he could intimidate—which he could, of course. She knew that from her own first meeting with him. But where he used to push away, he now seemed open. His hands hung relaxed at his sides. His eyes, always so hooded with mystery, were clear and bright.

  “The groom’s desperate words mean nothing,” said Halsey, richly dressed in fine riding tweeds. “I’ve already proved to you that I’ll overlook your poor judgment. This is your last chance, Lady Janice: Will you say yes to the duke? The man who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted? Or shall you throw it all away”—he looked coolly down his nose at Luke—“on him?”

  There was a long silence. Janice’s heart was beating so hard, her knees almost gave out from under her. But she knew her answer very well.

  “Janice?” Daddy called to her. “What say you?”

  She straightened her shoulders, stood tall, and looked at her father. “I say yes to the duke.”

  There was another beat of silence before noise erupted from all corners. On the second floor of the stable block, words flew about the fight that was sure to ensue. The duke’s hounds began to run circles around the crowd. Peter and Robert loudly exclaimed over Luke’s tremendous boxing skills, which they lamented they’d now never have in the family. Duncan told them to shut up, repeatedly, and then he grabbed their arms and bent in to speak to them privately, after which they calmed down.

  Halsey kicked a stone toward Luke and snickered. “Get lost, cretin. I should call you up before the magistrate for your willful disobedience. Go now, before I change my mind.”

  Luke ignored him. Janice could see Luke was puzzled by her declaration. But he wasn’t terribly worried. At least not yet.

  Daddy said nothing. But he scowled at everything he took in with that bright blue Irish gaze of his. He wasn’t happy—he wasn’t happy at all. And the world would know. Michael Sherwood, the Marquess of Brady, wasn’t one to hide his strong feelings.

  Janice’s mother and sisters gathered around her.

  Mama sighed. “You’re torturing your father.”

  “I know,” she said. “I couldn’t resist. The Irish in him will love the irony when it’s all over.”

  Marcia released a happy sigh. “Actually, I’m pleased Daddy’s upset. This must mean he likes Luke. He always scowls like that when he’s disappointed.”