The Black Duke's Prize

by Suzanne Enoch

  "Have you sent someone to Crestley?" she asked, abruptly remembering that he had promised to do so.

  He nodded and finished spreading jam on his toast. "We should hear in a few days how things stand there," he informed her, then cleared his throat. "Kate―"

  She could guess what he was going to say, and didn't want to end up explaining that she had gone behind his back. Not when she was in such a good mood that morning. "I appreciate your assistance, but I do mean to handle this myself. If anything has happened at Crestley, I will deal with it."

  There was a moment of silence. "Kate, there's something―"

  She raised a hand. "Please, Lord Neville. I am serious." Lady Alison cleared her throat. "You received more roses this morning."

  "Yes, I did," she responded, her smile returning.

  "Were they from Nick?"

  She nodded, accepting the jar of marmalade from her godfather. ''Thank you. Yes, they were."

  Lady Alison leaned across the table, her face serious.

  "Kate, Nick is a dear friend, but he does have a certain reputation. We don't wish to see you hurt."

  Katherine was touched by their concern, though she felt it to be unnecessary. "He has made no declaration to me," she said, "other than to invite the three of us to the opera next week."

  Alison nudged her husband. "He's been chased by so many mothers and their eligible daughters that he has informed me on several occasions that he has sworn off marriage entirely," Lord Neville said with a forced smile.

  "How do you feel about him, child?" her godmother asked.

  "I think he is very provoking," Katherine answered truthfully.

  Her godparents seemed unsatisfied with her answer, but she couldn't give them a better one. She thought she was beginning to like him more than she was comfortable admitting even to herself, but then he had been going out of his way to be charming. She knew as well as anyone that at any time the Black Duke could become bored with her, or find someone else to engage his rather jaded attention.

  That evening she and the Hamptons had been asked to dinner at the Hillary mansion, and Reg had mentioned that Nicholas had been invited as well. Katherine hoped he would attend, so that she could thank him for the roses, and for the moment of memories they had brought.

  The Marquis of Belning was a large, jolly man, as one would have to he in a household with seven lively offspring. His wife, Jane, was equally rotund, but the task of finding husbands for her three daughters had left her with considerably less humor. When Katherine and her godparents arrived they found Thomas there already, along with Louisa and Robert Alhey, a school chum of Reg's younger brother Thad. Shortly afterward they all repaired to the household's large dining room. As the first course was being served the butler came in to announce His Grace, Nicholas Varon, the Duke of Sommesby.

  At the pronouncement Nicholas strolled into the room. The emerald green superfine jacket and waistcoat he wore made his eyes glint. The captain came away from the table to shake his hand, and then the duke made his way over to greet the marquis and gracefully bow to the marchioness.

  "Oh, dear," Althaea muttered in a miserable voice from across the table, and Katherine hid a smile with her napkin.

  "You grace our table, er, Your Grace," the marquis rumbled.

  That produced a round of laughter from the younger set. As Nicholas turned to take his seat, his amused glance met Katherine's, and he inclined his head. After a noisy, boisterous supper the women repaired to the drawing room while the marquis called for port. Katherine found herself, as usual, sitting with Louisa and Althaea.

  "Oh, he never comes to these house parties," Althaea complained. "Reg has invited him a hundred times."

  "Don't fret, Thaea," Louisa said comfortingly, sending Kate an amused look. "Perhaps his other plans were canceled. The Black Duke wouldn't want to sit at home."

  "But now Mama will expect me to converse with him," the brown-eyed beauty said with a moan. "And I will say something foolish, and he will give me a good setdown. I know he will."

  At that moment Katherine felt someone's eyes on her, and turned to see Nicholas come into the room, a glass of port in one hand. Seeing seven pairs of female eyes on him, he flashed a smile. "I have always thought it a rather foolish custom," he drawled, coming to seat himself next to Louisa, "that men stay huddled together in the dining room after supper when just next door, beautiful women wait to be entertained."

  Katherine thought it a typically haughty thing for him to say, but it seemed to greatly impress Althaea's younger sisters and her mama, while it prompted another groan from the girl herself. Led by Thomas, the rest of the men appeared a moment later, and they became a party of sixteen. After a few minutes of increasingly noisy conversation the marchioness suggested in a loud voice that Althaea play them something on the pianoforte.

  The viscount moved to take the girl's vacated seat next to Katherine, and she caught the quick look that passed between him and Nicholas as Althaea began to play. "She plays well," Kate whispered to Thomas, and he nodded.

  "Do you play?" he returned.

  She frowned. "What's the standard reply? Adequately?" In truth she had no patience for it, and had escaped from her instructor to go riding whenever she could get away with it.

  Althaea played two pieces, but when her mother encouraged her to play a third, her siblings suggested they play charades instead. Althaea gratefully left the pianoforte. ''That was beautifully done, Miss Hillary," the Black Duke said amiably as she took a seat.

  Althaea blanched and nodded, mumbling something unintelligible. Kate had noticed that the rest of the young people looked at the Duke of Sommesby with something close to awe, and even his close friends, such as Thomas and Reg, showed him a healthy respect. She looked over at Nicholas again. He was smiling now, and looking devilishly handsome, not at all like the black-tempered rogue of ill repute. Seeming to sense her gaze, he glanced over at her and grinned.

  Althaea and Louisa took charge in organizing the game, and the young people were instructed to divide into two teams. Katherine stood, and found her elbow gripped by the viscount, who smiled down at her.

  "Teammates?" he queried, and she nodded, returning his smile. They had played before, and he was quite good.

  Abruptly Nicholas was at her other side, though she hadn't been aware of his approach. Though the Black Duke didn't touch her, his look at Thomas made it clear that he had no intention of leaving her side, and Katherine began to feel something like a wishbone.

  "Excuse me, but a Mr. Gladstone is here to see His Grace," the Hillarys' butler announced from the doorway.

  "Damn," Nicholas muttered from beside her. "Gerald, may I borrow your study for a moment?" he queried.

  "Of course, Your Grace," the marquis returned.

  "Best start without me," Nicholas said to the other players, and with a quick grimace of apology strode out of the room, the butler in his wake. Katherine looked after him, then joined the general cheering and talking as a member of each team chose a word out of a bowl to begin the game. Althaea's team won the first round, thanks mostly to her sister Eunice, and then it was Louisa's turn. After the next set of clues the duke returned. He looked somber, and nodded at Lord Neville as he took his seat.

  "Is everything all right?" Katherine asked while Thad Hillary rooted around on the floor, obviously imitating a pig, though his teammates seemed willing to let him suffer for a few moments before they guessed the word.

  Nicholas nodded. "Yes." He reached out as though to take her hand, then glanced about and straightened his jacket instead. "It will be―"

  "Your turn, Nick," Thomas said, leaning forward and tipping the bowl in Sommesby's direction.

  Nicholas gave him an annoyed glance, then with a sigh pulled out one of the pieces of paper. He grimaced, raising an eyebrow. "Can't I choose again?" he asked, reaching for the bowl.

  Reg rose and pulled it out of the way. "You get to act as foolish as the rest of us," he said, grinning.

/>   "If this is what being proper gets one, I prefer being a scoundrel," Nicholas whispered to Kate, then stood as she chuckled.

  What he had said surprised her. She had suspected as much, but it seemed that he actually was making an effort to behave. The only question was, for what reason; yet as she watched him give the sign for a person and then bend over and cup his hands above his ears, she thought that perhaps she could guess.

  "A rabbit?" Louisa asked.

  "It's a person," Cecilia Hillary corrected her.

  He nodded, lifting two fingers, then resumed his posture in a slightly more upright position.

  "Two words," Thomas said, and the duke nodded again. "Bunny rabbit." Across the room, Reg was chortling. With a put-upon glance at Kate, Nicholas continued meandering around the furniture. "Donkey?" she queried, trying not to laugh.

  ''Thank God," he muttered, and straightened. "No talking," Reg rebuked him.

  "That's not a person," Eunice protested. ''That's one word," Louisa crowed.

  Nicholas paused for a moment, then wiped his hand across his forehead.

  "Tired," Louisa said immediately.

  "Wann?" Thomas tried, when that didn't get a response. The duke's gesture was expansive, his eyes twinkling though his expression was exasperated.

  "Hot?" Robert Albey offered.

  The duke nodded and folded his arms, obviously finished. While the others called out various and hilarious combinations of the two words, Kate looked at him. He clearly felt that he had given them all of the information they needed, and, considering what she knew of him, the answer was one that was likely so obvious they would all feel foolish for not getting it. "Well?" he mouthed at her, raising an eyebrow.

  "Donkey hot," she murmured. "Donkey hot."

  "Lord Vincent Westerhill, Third Earl of Malbury," Thomas said.

  "What?" Nicholas and Katherine exclaimed in unison. "He's fat and sweaty, and has about as much intelligence as a donkey," the viscount explained, and Katherine chuckled.

  "I'll let him know you said that," Nicholas commented. "Time's nearly up," Thad Hillary exclaimed, eyeing the clock on the mantel.

  Abruptly it came to her, and she sat straight up, smiling gleefully. "Don Quixote," she said triumphantly.

  "Bravo," Nicholas murmured through the general cheering and protests. "May I take a seat now?"

  By the end of the evening Kate's cheeks felt stretched from laughing so much. No one had any idea which team had actually won, and finally the Marquis of Belning declared the match a draw. Katherine had never seen Nicholas so relaxed and charming, and wondered that anyone could think to be afraid of him.

  It was past midnight when she and the Hamptons finally collected their outer garments to leave, and Nicholas followed them out to where the coaches had been brought up. "May I call on you in the morning, Neville?" he asked, handing Lady Alison and then Kate up into the coach. "I don't think we should talk here."

  "Of course," the baron answered, throwing a curious, uneasy look at Kate.

  The duke looked up into the dark coach at her. "Good night, Katherine," he said softly, sounding warm and intimate enough to make her blush.

  "Good night, Nicholas," she replied, smiling.

  Kate had her own caller in the morning. Emmie awoke her at nine to. say that a Mr. Hodges was waiting for her in the morning room. "Oh, dear," she murmured, and dressed quickly to meet him. This was sorely what she had been waiting for, and she was both anxious and reluctant to hear the news he carried.

  "Mr. Hodges," she said, entering the room and closing the door.

  "Miss Ralston," he replied, setting aside his satchel and coming to his feet. "I know you prefer to meet in my offices, but my man only returned last evening, and I thought you would want his news immediately."

  "Yes, thank you," she answered, motioning him to resume his seat. She was too nervous to sit, herself, and tried not to squeeze her hands together. "What did he discover?"

  He cleared his throat and reached into the satchel. "No estate is officially up for sale in Staffordshire," he began, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to her, "but representatives of these parties have all been to Crestley Hall in the past few weeks. I must preface this by saying that the following is purely conjecture, but the offer of the party at the bottom of the list, the name I've circled, was apparently accepted three days ago."

  While he was speaking Katherine perused the paper.

  Most of the names were unfamiliar to her, but even so, she felt she was looking at a list of her worst enemies. Francis DuPres's name was fourth from the top, and for a brief moment she was grateful that it was not he whom she would have to battle for her home. The circled name at the bottom, though, stopped her cold. "Are you certain of this?" she whispered, her voice cracking. Feeling abruptly faint, she sat down on the couch.

  "Yes, my man was quite certain. As far as we know, no funds have changed hands yet, so we still have time to file a motion in court." He looked down, clearing his throat again. "However, considering who you are apparently up against, I really don't―"

  "No. No," Katherine whispered, staring at the list. No wonder Nicholas had been so attentive to her. He had wanted to make certain she didn't suspect anything. "I shall take care of this, Mr. Hodges." She made her way to the door, opening it and motioning him out. "Please send me your bill."

  "Miss Ralston, I would be more than―"

  "Please, Mr. Hodges. I will handle it."

  The solicitor picked up his things and walked to the door, then hesitated. "I'm quite sorry," he muttered, and bowed to her. "Good day, milady."

  ''Thank you," Kate replied numbly. As soon as he was gone she rushed upstairs into her bedchamber and slammed the door shut behind her.

  She was not surprised that her uncle had somehow found a way to sell off Crestley Hall, for she had suspected all along that he would attempt something like that. But Nicholas had betrayed her. He had danced with her, teased with her, and sent her roses. She looked at the beautiful arrangement sitting on her dressing table, then without ceremony turned it upside down into the chamber pot.

  He had thought to outsmart her, had he? Well, he would find that task not as easy as he obviously expected. He had done it before, the blackguard, and she should have realized what he was up to. He had taken the Viscount of Worton's estate during a card game, and now he sought to steal Crestley from her. But he would not. No money had changed hands. She could still stop him.

  Kate paced the room. Nicholas was going to pay for his behavior. He couldn't make her care for him and then steal from her, especially after she had told him how much she loved Crestley. He was far too wealthy for her to be able to buy him off, but maybe she could otherwise convince him to back out of the purchase. He was so certain that he had her wound around his little finger. He probably even thought she had fallen in love with him. Well, she would use that. She would use his own arrogance and pride against him. She would show Nicholas Varon.

  The clock on the stair landing chimed nine forty-five.

  He would be there at any moment to meet with Lord Neville. Before she had time to change her mind or lose her nerve, she dashed downstairs and found the butler standing in the hallway. "Rawlins," she said, "when the Duke of Sommesby arrives, please send him into the morning room."

  "Yes, Miss Kate," he agreed, too well schooled to point out that it was very odd for her to be receiving such a guest alone.

  That done, she slipped into Lord Neville's office and found one of his pistols in the bottom desk drawer. Her hand shaking, she removed it and hid it in the folds of her skirt, feeling a need for some security against the duke's infamous black temper. That done, she made her way back into the morning room and waited by the mantel.

  She only had to wait for ten minutes before a knock sounded at the front door, and her breath caught in her throat. She heard muffled voices, and then the morningroom door opened. Nicholas entered and looked at her, his expression one of amused pleasure.

&n
bsp; "You wanted to see me?" he asked, stepping forward and gazing at her with obvious curiosity.

  Involuntarily she took a step back. "Close the door, please."

  He did as she asked, then came further into the room.

  "You wanted to see me ... alone?" he continued, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Any reason in particular?' he queried softly, stopping at the far end of the mantel and reaching a hand out toward her.

  She winced. "It seems I have some trouble," she said, her voice shaking just a little. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

  He lowered his hand, his expression becoming serious. "What trouble? Is it DuPres again? I'll kill him if he's touched you."

  "Do you consider yourself a brave man, then, Your Grace?" she asked, unable to keep a sneer out of her voice at his pretended concern.

  He tilted his head at her. "Brave? I don't consider myself a coward," he said after a moment.

  "That's funny," she commented, watching him closely.

  "What's funny?" he asked, confusion showing briefly on his face. Again he came toward her, and she circled around the back of the couch, keeping it between them. She held the pistol concealed behind her back, and it felt heavy and awkward in her hand.

  "I consider you a coward," she spat out, unable to remain cool in the face of his obtuseness. "A coward and a liar and a villain."

  ''What are you up to, Kate?" he murmured, his expression going darker. "I told you it wasn't wise to bait me when we're alone together. Especially with you looking this attractive." He paused for a moment, looking at her. "You're not in trouble, are you?"

  "No, I'm not," she responded. "But you are." She lifted the pistol in the air.

  "Good God!" he exclaimed, a look of complete astonishment on his face. ''What are you―"

  "You are the greatest coward in the world," she continued.

  His expression became even more confused. "Excuse my language," he grated out, ''but what the hell are you talking about?"

  "Only a great coward like you would pay his attentions to a woman for the purpose of cheating her out of her inheritance."