Falling for a Duke (Timeless Regency Collection Book 8)

by Rebecca Connolly

  She swallowed hard before threading her arm through his. The muscles beneath his coat bunched at her touch, and she marveled at his strength. She had never noticed such a reaction when she had held her father’s or her uncle’s arms. What was it about Ethan that affected her so? Was it because they had shared a kiss? Did kissing somehow affect one’s reaction to the person?

  Even worse, had that one kiss unlocked the gates to these sensations? When any man danced with her or offered his arm in the future, would she feel the same way?

  She tried to keep a frown from her face, knowing her mother would only scold her later, but she couldn’t help it. Irrationally, she didn’t want to feel that way about anyone else. Although she would never kiss him again, she wanted that particular moment between them to remain special—something she only shared with him. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn’t push the feeling away.

  Madeline cleared her throat of the emotion stuck there and brightened her tone to say, “It was very kind of you to join us.”

  She looked up, and warm eyes met hers. The tension in her shoulders disappeared.

  “I’m not sure kindness played into the invitation.”

  He said nothing more, but the reminder of their conversation from the previous night made her lips twitch.

  Outside, they stepped into his carriage, where her mother exclaimed how beautiful everything was, and Madeline couldn’t blame her. Her own mouth hung open in awe for a second or two at such luxury.

  Was this what life was like when one had unthinkable amounts of money? She didn’t expect anything this opulent when she married, but it would be wonderful to ride through town without being thrown around like a rag doll.

  Her mother kept up a light conversation as they made their way to the gardens. The closer they got, the tighter Madeline’s insides twisted. She was bound to be a spectacle at the event with the duke as her escort. Everyone would be waiting, hoping she made some grave error so they could turn her into a laughingstock. It’s how society worked. They would want to bring her down for daring to take the duke away from them. Not that she was, but they would see it that way. She was now competition, when before, she had only ever been considered another body crowding the ballrooms.

  Deep breath.

  The carriage rolled to a stop, and her stomach somersaulted. Ethan exited first and helped her mother out before reaching back in for her hand. As he guided her out slowly, he whispered, “Is everything all right? You were quiet.”

  “I’m fine.” She offered him a small smile that felt brittle at the ends.

  He squeezed her hand before releasing her. That little extra reassurance warmed her. No matter the reason he’d agreed to this crazy scheme, he genuinely seemed to enjoy her company.

  With her first step out of the carriage, the scent of hundreds of blossoms filled the air. It was overwhelming but also intriguing. Nothing this potent was found naturally, and excitement lit within her.

  Arm in arm, they walked down a path to the main entrance and were greeted immediately.

  “Your Grace, it’s always a pleasure to have you in attendance,” the garden manager said. “And we are pleased to welcome your guests as well.” He bowed low to them all. “May I offer a private tour guide for your visit? He can show you the finest selections this year.”

  Madeline’s excitement dimmed at the prospect. She was sure the guide would lead them to the most opulent displays, possibly even clear out some of the other spectators, but she doubted she’d enjoy it as much. While the flowers were arranged and orderly, she wanted to walk among them, turn corners, and discover secrets. She didn’t want them placed in front of her nose.

  “A very kind offer,” Ethan told him, “but we will decline.”

  The excitement came back to Madeline, and she glanced up at him once the manager bowed and left them alone. Ethan looked down at her with a smile on his face.

  “If you didn’t want the guide, all you had to do was say so.”

  As if she’d ever be in a position to give a duke orders. “It isn’t my place to tell you such a thing.”

  “It is today and every time we’re together. I insist.”

  Her breath turned sharp. Why was he acting like they’d be in each other’s company in the future? She was sure she would bump into him at future garden parties or balls, but it wasn’t as if they’d have the opportunity to converse like this. Their relationship was temporary, if she could even call it a relationship at all.

  Greetings were called to them from others in attendance, and he expertly avoided them.

  “You’re good at that,” she said under her breath as he led them past large groups and deeper into the gardens.

  “I’ve spent my life avoiding people.” He said it casually, but she could hear the truth in his words.

  She glanced over her shoulder where her mother did her best to trail behind them—just far enough away to provide a modicum of privacy, yet still remain proper. Madeline was eternally grateful to her for that.

  Turning back to Ethan, she said, “I can believe that. People must hound you constantly.”

  He nodded in agreement, and a tiny trickle of guilt flowed through her as she realized she was using him. “Even me.”

  “Spending time with you is a pleasure.” He led her on a graveled path through what she thought of as the perfect town garden. “Besides, had you not needed my assistance, I would’ve missed all this.”

  “Breathtaking.” She breathed deeply, bending over to inhale a perfect rose blossom. “I love these.”

  His eyes darkened, and for some reason, she was reminded of their kiss. She straightened too quickly, scolding herself for being foolish. She glanced at her mother, who studied everything but them, a little too obviously.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Madeline whispered.

  He stepped closer to her, and her core temperature rose. “Like what?”

  Her eyes locked with his. “Like that.”

  He laughed, and a few people glanced their way curiously.

  “Oh, heavens.”

  “What?” he asked rather too innocently.

  He picked a flower and handed it to her, and Madeline stared down at the purple blossom in her gloved hand, perplexed at the action. “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” she whispered, discreetly looking around to see if anyone watched them.

  “Probably not.” He took the flower from her grasp, and to her surprise—and delight—stuck it behind her ear. “Stunning. Now the flower is much improved.”

  Her chin lowered, and she hoped he couldn’t tell how much his words pleased her. She was sure her mother had overheard his last comment and was even now planning their nuptials. “You know, Your Grace, you shouldn’t say things like that.” Again, she whispered. Every conversation seemed a secret between them. Why couldn’t they be boring and talk about the weather? Instead, they fell much too easily into subjects that weren’t appropriate.

  “You’re right, I shouldn’t. But for once I’m going to do whatever I want, without worrying whether I should or not.”

  “That could get dangerous.”

  A cheeky smile turned his lips. “I can only hope. And stop ‘Your Gracing’ me. We’ve already established that you’ll call me Ethan. No one else can hear us now.”

  She was rather sick of referring to him in such a formal way. While he appeared every inch his station, the cold title didn’t suit him. “As long as no one overhears us,” she stressed, glancing to her mother, “then Ethan it is. I do like your name. It suits you.”

  “I’m rather fond of Madeline.”

  “You are?” she asked, perplexed. “Why?”

  “Because it’s yours.”

  Her hands went to her hips, and she tossed him a disbelieving glance. “You are trying to unnerve me, aren’t you?”

  “Is it working?” he asked hopefully.

  “A little,” she grumbled.

  “Good. I’m fond of your blush.”

  She c
overed her cheeks before another flush of color could rise. “I never knew you were so . . . so . . .”

  “So what?”

  “So”—her hands waved around as she tried to find the right word—“charming, I guess. It doesn’t match your reputation.”

  He led her through an opening to another garden. “You mean my reputation as a stuffy duke?”

  “I didn’t know you, only what I had heard. You’ve always been untouchable. People say you’re too serious for your own good.” She really hadn’t known anything about him, other than the snippets of gossip whispered over the years. She hadn’t known he was kind and funny, generous and sweet, or that his kiss could make her forget her own name, or that he smelled so heavenly. She’d rather sit and inhale his scent more than anything in this garden.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ve figured that out on my own, thank you.”

  They moved through several smaller gardens, which were beautiful, but had no emotional impact on Madeline. She was waiting for something to stun her, to take her breath away, and while she’d seen some impressive feats of engineering, that hadn’t happened yet.

  She read the sign for the next display. “The Secret Garden. Sounds intriguing.”

  “After you.” He held out his hand for her to enter the open wood-and-brass door nestled in a brick wall.

  Thick ivy covered the reddish-brown stones, and she wondered how long it had been there. Had they intentionally placed the ivy there for the show or was this garden a permanent fixture? She hoped it was the latter.

  She stepped through the doorway, and her breath caught in her throat. Soft light filtered through the canopies above, a light breeze softly rustling the leaves. Water bubbled from a fountain in the corner, creating its own music. But what gave it that eerie, otherworldly feel, the one that had gooseflesh rising on her arms, was that no other sound filtered into the space. Hundreds of people walked through the surrounding gardens, but it felt as if she and Ethan were alone.

  “I’ll wait outside, Madeline. The scent from those roses is irritating my senses.” Her mother gestured to the flowers lining the edges as if they were poison. She sailed back through the opening, firmly shutting the door behind her.

  Now Madeline was alone in this small piece of paradise with Ethan—and her mother hadn’t been discreet in the least. “You must forgive her,” Madeline told him.

  “Why?” Ethan asked, stepping toward her. “She finally accomplished what I had only hoped to do: get you alone.”

  “I . . .” She held her hands out, palms up. “I don’t know what to say to that. I keep wondering why you’re even here.”

  “You said you needed my help.”

  “And that’s all it took?” She arched a disbelieving brow at him. “I find that hard to believe. People probably want help from you all the time, and you don’t seem the type of person to give in to anyone’s demands.”

  “That would make me a weak duke, wouldn’t it?” He plucked one of the vibrant pink roses from a bush and took off the thorns as he spoke. “I’ll admit, rescuing damsels isn’t something I do often, but I’ve quite enjoyed coming to your rescue.”

  A shocked laugh burst from her lips. “Thank you very much. You make me seem so pathetic.”

  “Not at all. I admire your tenacity. You don’t wait for someone to hand things to you.” He offered her the now perfect rose.

  She tried to stop another blush from rising to her cheeks as she took it, her fingers softly brushing against his, but knew she hadn’t succeeded. The Duke of Hargrave was with her in one of the most romantic places she’d ever been—alone—offering her flowers. She was sure she’d wake up at any moment, but this wasn’t a dream. “Well, no matter why you escorted me, thank you. Everyone will be talking about this for some time.”

  He smiled and gestured to a stone bench, nestled on two sides by ivy, which practically hid those who sat there from view. “Would you like to sit?”

  She glanced at the closed door and decided it was safe enough. Her mother would keep everyone away, even if she had to lie and say the door was jammed. She would ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed. “Yes, thank you.”

  She arranged her skirts and took a seat, making sure to leave enough room in case he wanted to join her. It would be a tight squeeze, but she didn’t mind. She wanted to be close to him again. She looked around at their temporary little slice of heaven. “When I marry, I’m going to ask my husband to recreate this exact garden.”

  Ethan sat on the small bench next to her, and her heart raced at his nearness. She could almost feel the heat from his thigh as it settled comfortably next to hers. She wanted to lean in, rest her head on his shoulder, and bask in his scent.

  Until the night of his ball, she had never realized how wonderful a man could smell. The odors she had inhaled from other dance partners or men seated next to her at dinners never inspired much desire for further closeness. But Ethan’s scent—she breathed deeply, hoping he wouldn’t notice—she would bottle it up if she could and sprinkle it on her pillow at night to give her delicious dreams.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he leaned closer to her and whispered, “I doubt your future husband could ever deny you a single wish.”

  She shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear. “My husband could deny me everything.”

  “No man who marries you would make such a mistake. A woman like you will be cherished.”

  As she glanced up into his warm gaze, her stomach clenched. Why couldn’t he be someone else? Practically anyone else would be fine. She had dreamed for so long to have a man look at her just like this, as if he found her truly desirable and wanted to grant her wishes. She knew Ethan didn’t really feel that way, but she wanted to pretend, even if for a second, that he wasn’t a duke, that he was someone who was the perfect match for her. A man with a lower title and a modest fortune who wouldn’t mind a connection with her, now that she had a powerful ally in Lady Louisa.

  But Ethan wouldn’t care about her connection with Lady Louisa. With his position and wealth, he had all the connections he could ever want. Her future husband might cherish her, but that man would never be him. “It all depends on if I succeed today.”

  “Is there a reason why you wouldn’t? You only needed me to escort you, isn’t that correct?”

  “Well, that’s true. But she changed the rules once; I only hope she doesn’t do it again.”

  “She?”

  She bit her lip and looked away. She shouldn’t say, but would it really make a difference? “Lady Louisa Tisdale.”

  Ethan jerked as if surprised. “Lady Louisa Tisdale asked you to do all this? So it’s true then—the rumors about her dares?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t meet his stare.

  “But why would you do it? Why risk everything?”

  She let out a long stream of air. How to explain without earning his pity? “I don’t have a choice. At least, not a good one.”

  “Why?”

  Could he not see? “She’s the daughter of a duke. She’s accepted everywhere and has connections in the highest places. I’m practically a nobody. If most members of the ton had their way, I wouldn’t be included in society at all, not even on the fringes. But if I do the tasks Lady Louisa gives me, I can have opportunities for a good match. I can help my family if I marry well. As it is, I’m a drain, and I can’t bear for my family to struggle as they have.”

  He was quiet, and she didn’t have the nerve to interrupt his thoughts. What must he think of her? She just told him she was desperate and looking to snag a wealthy, titled man. It made her no different from other unmarried girls—they all had those same hopes—but they would never have admitted to it as she just had, especially to a duke. The degree of her desperation made it all so much more unsavory. “You must think I’m awful,” she said quietly, rising.

  His hand shot out and gripped hers, pulling her back down to the bench. “No. I don
’t think you’re awful.”

  Her eyes reluctantly met his, and she couldn’t look away.

  “I think you’re amazing, incredible, and brave. You went after what you wanted, what you needed, and you didn’t look back. Most would have folded when given the task to kiss a duke, but you didn’t. You want to help your family. It’s obvious they mean a lot to you. Nothing is more attractive than love.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  Ethan squeezed her hand. “I mean it. There are depths to you that men will admire. It’s a shame others have not yet realized it.”

  She pasted a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “With any luck, they will, now that I’ve done what Lady Louisa ordered.”

  “Even if she rejects what you’ve done, you have already secured your future in society.”

  Confusion filled her. “How? I’ll only obtain that if Lady Louisa accepts me. I need her sponsorship.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You don’t need her sponsorship. You need someone’s.”

  Madeline frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “What I mean is that you need someone of high rank to show all the others that you are someone worth noticing, that you are worthy of such attention.”

  “Right.” She drew the word out, not completely sure what he was getting at.

  “You need someone like me.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You? You can’t be serious.”

  “And why not?”

  As if she needed to explain this. “You are the Duke of Hargrave. You’ve never openly courted anyone that I’m aware of. If you were to spend more time with me . . .” She looked away, embarrassed to finish the sentence, and when she tried to tug her hand away, he held it tighter.

  “If I were to spend more time with you, it would make others take a second look. Then you wouldn’t need Lady Louisa at all. You would not have to take all these risks to please her.”

  “This could turn out badly for you.” She hated that the more he talked about it, the more she wanted it. She yearned to spend more time with him.

  “How so? I’ve enjoyed our time together, and I want more of it. Being around you and getting to know you better isn’t a hardship.”