The Heart of a Duke

by Victoria Morgan

  Laughing, he leaned close to peer into her hair. He tucked a loose strand behind her ear, a warmth in his eyes. “Nothing else. You are quite safe, except for some dirt just here.” His finger brushed her cheek.

  Her face flamed, and her hand shot up to scrub the dirt-streaked area.

  “Now you’ve done it,” he laughed. “Look at your gloves.”

  Following his gaze, she gasped. Her gloves were beyond filthy.

  He crossed to the fence over which he had draped his jacket, withdrawing a handkerchief from its inside pocket. Returning, he presented it to her. “Try this.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted it and stepped back as she wiped her cheek. He was too big and too close, and his teasing smile disturbed her pulse. Besides, she had an urge to brush back that errant lock of hair and press her finger to the intriguing dent in his chin. “All gone? How do I look?”

  His gaze roved over her features so carefully that she squirmed. His smile was slow and easy. “Beautiful, as always.”

  Her lips parted. Beautiful. No one had ever called her so. Emily was the classic English beauty with her fair looks, while Julia had fine eyes. She closed her mouth and tucked the compliment away to savor later. It was a weak vanity, but betrothed to Bedford, men were circumspect in their attentions to her. Few praised her outright, and none complimented her. Until Daniel.

  “I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you that you could have collected some servants to assist you with cleaning up? That you did not have to do it all yourself?”

  She returned his handkerchief. “Actually, Emily did suggest that. But contrary to my social status exempting me from doing so, I am quite capable of washing a dish and pushing a broom.” She shrugged. “That family needed our help, and they will be my tenants soon, too. That makes their welfare my responsibility. I could not very well turn my back on them.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. Nor would you seek assistance. What was I thinking?”

  She wondered at the strange glow in his eyes and its odd effect on her. After a moment, she recovered her voice. “And the grounds? How bad is the situation?”

  The glow faded and his expression darkened. He gestured to the blanket on the ground. “Why don’t we sit and I will update you.” Jonathan and Bea’s giggles carried to them, and they observed the two dangling from a low branch. “I see Bea and Jonathan have joined forces. The Irish don’t stand a chance.”

  She smiled. “I fear you are right.”

  “Excuse me for one second.” He winked and strode over to the tree. He spoke to Bea, and tossed something to her, which she snagged. She then scrambled up the tree and dropped two apples into Daniel’s waiting grasp. He bowed graciously, flashed his potent smile, and returned to her side.

  “What was that all about?”

  “A business transaction. One bob for two apples.” He grinned. “I believe she got the better of the deal. Apple?”

  She stripped off her dirty gloves and lifted her hands to catch his offering.

  He hesitated, a teasing gleam entering his eyes. “Maybe I should reconsider. Remember what happened to Eve when she ate the apple? She got exiled.”

  “But she gained wisdom, which made her smart enough to put some clothes on.”

  “And therein lies the true biblical tragedy.” Daniel sighed as he lobbed the apple to her. “If she hadn’t been tempted by Satan, we would all be naked, happy, and still frolicking in the Garden of Eden.”

  “What happens when winter comes? It could get chilly.”

  “That is the best part.” He sat on the blanket, then caught her bare hand and pulled her down. He leaned against the fence, and when she had settled her skirts around her and leaned back beside him, he tapped his shoulder to hers. “We would have to combine our body heat to stay warm.”

  Smiling, she shifted away from him and shook her head. “I fear that would fail. Without knowledge, they would be too slow to do so, and would freeze to death. It would be the end of all mankind. Eve was wise to eat that apple.” She bit into her own.

  He laughed. “Clever. I see why you were so competent managing Taunton’s estates. Nothing escapes you and you are willing to get your hands dirty. You have a keen mind for resolving problems you cannot manage on your own, as shown in your arranging the laundry to be cleaned at Taunton Court. Will you work for my company?”

  More compliments to tuck away with the other. As much as they pleased her, his words reminded her why they had come, and her smile faded. “I am needed here. More than I realized.” She set her apple down. She had lost her appetite again.

  Daniel appeared to sober as well. “Did Mrs. Mabry say anything to you?”

  She recounted the woman’s harangue. “What did you learn from Mabry?” He filled her in on Mabry’s account of the last few years. The two accounts differed in one manner. “She blamed Edmund’s bailiffs. Refused to believe Bedford was sanctioning their stringent measures. Contrary to her husband, she believes Bedford is not as informed on matters as the late duke had been. He doesn’t . . . Edmund doesn’t visit the tenants or ride over the grounds.”

  “What are your thoughts?” He had finished his apple and tossed the core onto the blanket beside them.

  She gnawed on her lower lip, her emotions in conflict. She wanted to defend Edmund. But she could not. The estate turns a profit. Edmund’s cold and dismissive words haunted her. “I . . . I honestly do not know. But it appears that things have been neglected.”

  “Yes, they have. But as you said, that is why you are needed here.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Yes, it is. I’ll . . . I will speak to Edmund. See what he has to say.”

  He nodded. “That is a start.”

  The doubt in his voice gave her pause. “Do you think he will listen?” The question escaped her before she could bite it back, but she was desperate to know his opinion.

  He pursed his lips as if contemplating the matter, and then grinned as if an amusing thought had struck him. “If anyone can get Edmund to listen, it would be you. After all, you possess another talent. You are very persuasive about getting people to do your bidding.” His eyes dipped to her lips.

  She blinked, but refused to rise to his bait. “Not everyone is as easily persuaded as you.”

  He laughed. “I had a keen interest in what you offered.” He winked at her, and ignoring her quelling glance, he continued. “It is all about dangling the right rewards to get someone to do your bidding. So what does Edmund want?”

  He still stared at her mouth, and she found her gaze dropping to his. She noticed his bottom lip was fuller than his top. She swallowed. What was his question? Her mind had gone utterly blank, like an unwritten page expectantly waiting to be filled. She dared not voice with what.

  “I have a bellyache.”

  She jerked back. Good lord, had she been leaning toward Daniel? Admiring his lips? She lifted an unsteady hand to comb it through her hair, struggling to focus on Jonathan, who had crumpled onto the blanket and lay curled in a ball, groaning.

  “Poor boy, someone has overindulged in too many apples,” she crooned. “Lie down, love. Hopefully it will settle in a little while.”

  Daniel came to his feet. Grabbing his jacket from the fence, he laid it over Jonathan. He folded it around his small figure, scooping up a lone apple that had rolled free of Jonathan’s clutch.

  The now-familiar flutter kicked beneath her breast. She pressed her hand to her chest as Daniel leaned against the fence, tossed the apple into the air and deftly caught it. He never could sit still. She had noticed that earlier. He was always fidgeting, like a coiled ball of energy. Almost like a five-year-old boy. Her eyes strayed to Jonathan, who was flat out.

  “Edmund wants a profit. You need to present him with a business proposal that helps the tenants and profits Edmund. The real problem is the surplus labor that is taking jobs and cutting into the tenants’ wages. Some of these men are foreigners, but many are returning veterans who need and deserve the work.�
�� He frowned.

  “So we need more work?” she asked.

  “Right,” he answered distractedly, his eyes on Bea, who was shuffling slowly toward them, holding her apron out in front of her. In it, she cradled half a dozen apples.

  She spoke to Daniel. “Six bob for the lot.”

  Daniel eyed the number of apples and cocked a brow. “In twenty minutes, your price has doubled?”

  Bea glowered. “I done picked ’em. That makes the price for the apples and labor.”

  He rubbed his chin, appearing in deep contemplation. “Four bob and you have a deal. Three for the apples and one for your bold business style.”

  Bea huffed out her breath. “Fine, fine.” She knelt and unfurled her apron onto the blanket. Daniel handed over the coins, and she held them in her fist, her smile radiant.

  “I’m going to show me mum,” Bea cried. She bobbed a curtsy and dashed off.

  Julia smiled. “I see why you are a successful businessman. Very clever negotiation.”

  “I am good at negotiating. Had to be to cut a deal with New England mill owners. A bunch of tight-fisted, reticent, intractable . . .” His words trailed off. His eyes studied the apple he held, turning it over in his hand. When his eyes lifted to hers, wonder crossed his features. “I know how we can get more work.”

  “How?”

  “A cider mill!” His smile was blinding. “The cider mills in New England are a booming industry. In addition to the cider, the apples and edible waste from the mills provide feed for the pigs and other livestock. Mabry mentioned there are still orchards on the southeast acreage, and a few trees are clearly scattered around some of the tenants’ property.” He strode over to the apple tree, plucked one down and brandished it at Julia.

  “That will cost you a half bob,” she warned with a grin. She stood, drawn to his infectious excitement.

  “Worth it.” He winked. “Edmund gets his profit by leasing the land to a mill owner, the veterans can get work in building and operating it, the tenants get their jobs back, and can also sell their apples to the mill. A lot of owners like a variety of apples to blend and make cider of variable juice types, in addition to making the hard cider. They could also custom press the tenants’ apples, if the tenants desire. They would charge a nominal crushing fee for that.”

  “And if the venture is successful, Edmund could reinvest the money he charged for leasing the property back into the mill and glean a share of the profits,” Julia added.

  “That is if your duke is smart enough to soil his hands in trade.” He caught her hand, plunked the apple into it, and curled her fingers around it. “You win the prize of the day. You are incredible. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  Warmth suffused her. Another compliment. Incredible. She might like this one best of all, but beautiful was a close second. “It was your idea. I now understand why Curtis Shipping is such a success.”

  “You have read about my firm,” Daniel accused.

  “I have,” she conceded, laughing at his look of surprised delight. “You have done well. You should be proud.”

  Looking pleased, he inclined his head. “Thank you. But I had help. As I have said, I have an American partner, Brett Curtis, who is an old friend of mine. I met him while at Dunbar Academy. To my everlasting gratitude, his mother was from here and demanded her only son be educated in England.”

  “It appears that combining forces to work together rather than separately is smart business sense. Good thing I have my faithful squire.”

  He grinned. “Let us just hope that Edmund is of like mind.”

  Her smile wavered, and it took her a minute before she could recover. “Yes, well, we should head back now. We have already lost one member of our party.” She nodded to Jonathan. “I should collect Emily.”

  “Apples and scouting for the Irish eejits take their toll,” Daniel quipped. “He can ride with me. We will tie his pony to Constance.”

  “That is kind of you.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  His words were soft and warm and curled around her. She stood transfixed before she forced herself to move away. Her steps were heavy as she made her way to the Mabrys’ house, her thoughts straying to Edmund.

  Surely he would listen to her. Like his brother, he would understand. They could not be that different, could they? But if she were honest, she had absolutely no idea of what Edmund would do, and that frightened her most of all. She should know the man’s thoughts. After all, she was going to marry him. To spend her life with him.

  She firmed her lips and lifted her chin. She would speak to Edmund, and soon she would know everything. She had gotten one side of the story here. It was time to get the other. Edmund’s side.

  Chapter Nine

  THEY visited more tenants over the next few weeks. Julia and Emily wheedled their way into their good graces with food baskets and queries about needs the parish might be able to address. While Julia dispersed their bounty, Daniel met with some of the veterans working in the fields, culling those out who had building, engineering, or experience working in a mill. He spoke to Taunton about potential mill owners or men in trade who might be interested in leasing the land.

  As he gained Mabry’s trust, Daniel casually asked if the tenants recalled the fire at Lakeview Manor and any discussion of it afterward. Mabry’s reply had been strangely enigmatic, and they were the only words he had ever recounted as having come directly from Edmund.

  Fire was of grave concern to anyone living in the vicinity, so his brother had made a rare appearance after the manor’s blaze to assure the tenants of it being an isolated incident. He had told them that now that Lord Bryant had left the country, they were not to worry over it. Mabry repeated Edmund’s words with a dismissive shrug while Daniel had snorted at the strange, Shakespearian edict. All was well, so sayeth His Grace, the arrogant prig of a duke.

  But what the devil did he mean?

  Had he held Daniel responsible for the fire? And therefore with his absence, they were safe? It had been all he could do to hold his tongue before Mabry. He forced himself to shelve his questions, but they simmered.

  Like his and Julia’s project, he had reached another impasse. Until Robbie turned up something in regard to the fire, he had no leads to pursue. And until Edmund returned and sanctioned their business proposals, they could not implement their plans. It was like waiting for the blockade to end all over again. The forced inertia rankled, and he noticed Julia’s impatience was palpable as well. Both shared a restless spirit, biting at the bit to put into action all they had discussed. To act.

  Each day his admiration for her increased. Like peeling back the layer of a succulent fruit, he had been delighted to uncover the woman beneath. She was sweet and magnificent. Her striking beauty had first arrested him, then her dare that had culminated in their kiss, but there was so much more to her. She fascinated him.

  Why in God’s name is she marrying my bastard of a brother?

  Like a knife plunged in his gut, it damn near killed him. When he was not fighting his urge to yank Julia into his arms and kiss her again, he wanted to reach out and shake her. To make a blind woman see.

  His mood souring, he brooded as he returned to his room at the inn. The Regal Swan was located on the outskirts of town, a first welcome before travelers reached the village proper. He had chosen it for its location away from the raucous festival near the common.

  He stormed inside, startling the stooped innkeeper, who stood behind the front desk. He quickly regrouped, but his expression was apologetic. “My apologies, my lord, I didn’t see you leave again. I take it you have your key this time? Haven’t forgotten it?”

  Daniel stopped short, staring at the man as if he had lost his sense. His key? The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a sixth sense born during years under Edmund’s fists kicked in. The blockade had ended.

  Edmund had arrived.

  Worse, the bastard had taken advantage of being his twin to gain en
trance into Daniel’s room. He cleared his throat. “No, thank you. I am quite set.”

  “Good, good. And as requested, I sent up a decanter of my best vintage cognac. I take it you received it? Did it meet with your approval?”

  “Ah, I have yet to have a chance to partake.” He had to give Edmund points for the order, for it was cleverly done. It should set Daniel back a pound note or two.

  Nodding to the innkeeper, he hurried upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. He strode down the foyer and shoved open the door to his room, appreciating the resounding crash of the heavy oak against the wall and his brother’s startled expression. “Edmund. Do come in and make yourself comfortable. Oh, my apologies, you have already done so. Some things never change.”

  His brother’s unguarded flicker of surprise passed, and a look of detached impassivity veiled his features. Time hung suspended as they took each other’s measure, assessing the similarities and differences the years had wrought.

  Edmund had settled into the room’s leather armchair, one long leg crossed over the other, his leather gloves on the nearby table and a snifter of the amber cognac in his hand. Daniel found it disconcerting to see his own features mirrored back at him, but their resemblance ended there, for his brother was no longer the whipcord-thin, angled young man that Daniel remembered. Like himself, a decade had etched its changes into Edmund.

  The man before him wore his dark hair short, his starched white neck cloth as stiff as his posture, his raven-black custom-tailored clothes like a second skin. He had the pale skin of a life spent indoors, the telltale sign of a pampered aristocrat. In contrast, his eyes were hard and locked on Daniel with a cold and calculating look that Daniel knew well.

  Disdain dripped from his brother. “So it is true. Lazarus has risen from the dead. I did not think you would ever return. And yet here you are.”

  “And all these years I did not think you had ever given me a thought. And yet you did.” Daniel shrugged. “Guess we were both proved wrong. If I believed you truly cared, I would be touched, but I know otherwise.” He let the door swing shut behind him.