The Heart of a Duke

by Victoria Morgan

  “No? Then please do enlighten me, for I believe I missed much.” His voice never rose, but held a quiet menace that was louder than a barking reprimand.

  Feeling like a trapped rabbit, her heart thudded and she moistened her lips, her mouth dry. “Well, you see, Daniel was—”

  “Daniel.” He stiffened, and his nostrils flared. “My brother has a canny ability for turning up where I least expect him to be, or should I say, where he doesn’t belong. That explains Brimston’s mistake, but it doesn’t explain yours. Please, continue.”

  He had finally voiced his brother’s name, albeit hissed under his breath like a filthy expletive. “You must understand, I warned Daniel that—”

  “It appears you did far more than warn him. You were seen in a compromising position. Brimston may be an idiot, but contrary to Jessica’s words, blind he is not. Do you deny it?”

  “No, but, I can explain—”

  His hand shot up, his white glove an implacable barrier glowing in the fading light as he continued in an icy drawl. “Do not bother. You have said more than enough. I had heard my brother attended that village fete, and he had made a public spectacle of himself on some half-crazed stallion. What I did not know was how intimately your paths had crossed.”

  “It is not what you are thinking. It was a mistake and—”

  “Enough,” he snarled, looming over her. His hands vised around her upper arms, ignoring her sharp cry as his fingers dug deep. “If you think I want to hear one more word about it, you think wrong.” He abruptly released her as if the touch of her burned or, worse, sickened him. “Spare me the sordid details.”

  Silenced, she stumbled back, more frightened by his sudden calm than she had been by the fleeting spark of temper. She curled her hands around her upper arms, where undoubtedly bruises would form.

  “I can forgive many things, but an indiscretion with my own brother is not one of them. It is finished.” He straightened his jacket and pulled his sleeves down. “Now then, let us not make a scene tonight, for that will unfold soon enough. Tomorrow, I will speak to your father and then be in contact with my solicitors.”

  He made to turn away, but paused to rake his eyes over her with an insolence that stripped her bare, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “Had you waited until after our marriage, I would have been receptive to your seeking your pleasure elsewhere, that is, with the exception of my brother.” At her shocked gasp, he snorted. “Please, spare me the theatrics of a sheltered innocent, for we both know otherwise. You did not think I would settle for a provincial marriage? And disappoint my mistress? There would have been enough for you both, but she will be pleased to know she does not have to share.”

  Stunned, the fulcrum upon which her life had pivoted for the past five years had abruptly tipped and dumped her flat on her arse.

  It took her a minute to pull herself together, to gather up the broken pieces of her childish hopes and dreams, and to regain a sliver of the dignity Edmund had stripped from her. Despite the tremors shaking her body and the scandal that was sure to erupt and drop her to her knees, she was the daughter of an earl, and she refused to let Edmund see her shatter.

  She drew herself up to her full height, her voice quiet but steady. “Your brother was right. I have been chasing windmills after all. My condolences to your mistress.” She dipped into a curtsy. “Your Grace.” On unsteady legs, she dodged around him, gasping when his hand shot out and curled around her upper arm again. He drew her close, his face inches from hers.

  “You forget, Julia, this is breach of contract. You are ruined. Finished. And do not expect my brother to rescue you. He has never been the loyal type, cannot be trusted worth a damn, and his life is in America. My condolences to you.”

  He released her and she dashed out of his reach. This time, when she lifted her skirts and hurried away, she did not look back.

  Through her tear-blurred vision, she would only see a two-faced duplicitous Janus, one face oozing charm, the other cruelty.

  Chapter Thirteen

  DANIEL gave Chase free rein, for the stallion had a penchant for speed, and he needed to arrive in time to contain the damage from Edmund’s incendiary confrontation with Taunton. Thank God Emily had the foresight to send for him. Her cryptic note warned him of the fallout from his and Julia’s infamous “mistake.” Betrayed by a kiss. It had a biblical ring to it. He just hoped to save Julia from further persecution.

  He crested the ridge overlooking Taunton Court. Majestic elms, like royal guards, lined the drive to the sandstone Georgian house. With its perfect symmetry, classical pilaster columns, a sandstone staircase climbing to the front portico, the house sat like a jewel, the sky blue day the perfect setting to frame its grandeur.

  Oblivious to the view, Daniel’s gaze locked on the coach blocking the front entrance. The polished burgundy cab gleamed, an ink black silhouette of a stallion prancing across the Bedford crest. A coachman and footman wore Bedford’s jade green livery and were stationed beside the coach.

  The men turned at his approach, their reactions revealing as they recognized the resemblance to his brother. Their posture became as rigid as the pillars propping up the front portico, their eyes cast forward, impersonal and professional. Edmund would not tolerate familiarity in his staff, and he had dismissed his father’s servants within the month before Daniel left. According to Edmund, years of servitude to their father had made their loyalties suspect and their familiarity unacceptable.

  He stopped Chase a few yards from the carriage. As he dismounted, Taunton’s groom hurried forth to take the reins.

  The cloudless sky provided an ironic backdrop for the day, for it belied the pending storm. He straightened his shoulders and started forward, but paused when the front door opened.

  Edmund’s gloves were fisted in one hand, slapping against his thigh. His stride was brisk as he descended the steps and made his way to his carriage. So intent on his destination, he didn’t immediately see Daniel. When he did, he stopped short, his eyes flaring, and his expression thunderous. “Taunton is not receiving visitors. And your presence, in particular, is not welcome. I would think you’d understand.”

  “I doubt Taunton needs you to speak for him, Edmund, as I am sure you have said quite enough.”

  “I have said enough? What the devil do you think you have done?” he roared. “You have ruined his daughter. She is tarnished goods. But the real question is, did you intend this all along? Was ruining my fiancée your way of getting back at me for your childhood slights?”

  “You are not serious,” Daniel scoffed, incredulous.

  “I am. If that was your plan, you have made a grave error. You see, I do not give a damn.” He shrugged. “If I had, I would have wedded and bedded her years ago.”

  “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “She is a pretty thing, of good lineage, and she came with a hefty dowry. I am in need of an heir to replace you, and she is of prime bloodstock. I would have honored my contract and married her. But now that you have given me a means of extricating myself while keeping her dowry, which I insisted on Taunton forfeiting in payment for breach of contract, I have concluded it is for the best. In lieu of all that has occurred over the past few years, it is clear to me that madness permeates the Chandler bloodline. Therefore, it is best that our families not merge and risk tainting the Bedford lineage.”

  Daniel’s lips parted. He had expected Edmund to accuse Julia of many things, none of them good, but he had never fathomed this disturbing charge.

  “I have to admit, I thought more of Julia. Thought she had refined taste, but her indiscretion with you proves otherwise. Pity.” He made a disapproving face as he yanked on his gloves. “However, it matters not. It is finished, and I am glad of it.” He nodded toward Daniel. “As my heir, you need to maintain your distance from her. You must understand. The families cannot merge.” A tic vibrated in his cheek as he eyed Daniel, almost daring him to question him.

  Daniel was rend
ered speechless. When he recovered his voice, bafflement laced his words. “How odd. We finally agree on something.”

  Edmund nodded. “I thought you would be difficult. But I am glad that we are of like minds in regard to this matter.”

  “You misunderstand,” Daniel said. “I agree on your earlier point. I, too, am glad it is over and Julia is free of you. She deserves so much better. Or at the very least, a husband who thinks better of her.”

  Edmund drew himself up and peered at Daniel as if he were a dimwitted clod whom he deigned to educate. “You forget, I am a duke, and here in England, with the exception of a prince, there is none better. I don’t accept tainted goods, least of all my brother’s castoffs.”

  Daniel did not think, but lunged. Their bodies collided.

  The force of the impact sent them flying to the ground, Daniel sprawled on top of Edmund. “You bloody bastard!”

  Scrambling to his knees, he landed two solid punches to Edmund’s gut before Edmund’s men yanked him off.

  Edmund staggered to his feet and leaning over, braced his hands on his thighs, gasping for breath.

  Daniel fought against the men restraining him. However, chosen for size and height, to do the uniform of the Bedford livery justice, he could not break their hold.

  When Edmund recovered, he dove at Daniel, his fist hurling into his face. The force of the blow snapped Daniel’s head back. Preparing for another hit, Daniel lifted his feet, forcing the footmen to stagger and struggle to maintain their grip.

  “Release him. He is not worth it,” Edmund ordered, flexing his hand, his attention on a pair of Taunton’s groomsmen running their way. Edmund had never liked an audience to witness his loss of temper.

  One of the footmen handed Edmund his hat, which had flown off in his fall.

  “Go back to America. I give you fair warning. Because if you don’t, you will not survive our next encounter.”

  Daniel straightened, ignoring the throbbing pain in his cheek. “Rot in hell, Your Grace.”

  Edmund stared at him, the glacial hatred in his eyes so frigid that Daniel almost recoiled. Then he simply smiled and turned away.

  This fight was far from over, but Daniel was not going anywhere. Not yet. He had an agenda, and the item now topping the list was to ask for Julia’s hand in marriage.

  He had vowed to save her from his brother. He had never meant to do it through the bonds of marriage, but if that is what it took, so be it. He had told Julia on that fateful day at the fair that he was a man who corrected his mistakes, and he had meant it.

  DANIEL KEPT HIS attention on the imposing mahogany desk dominating the study. Two chairs sat before it, and it seemed like only yesterday that he had warmed one, while Edmund occupied the other as Taunton had spoken to them about keeping a protective eye on Julia, who appeared determined to romp after them. He and Edmund had been fourteen to Julia’s precocious nine years and had little interest in her catching them.

  His eyes strayed to the Queen Anne cherrywood tall-case clock, recalling Taunton admonishing Edmund for noting the time more than Taunton’s words. Once again, Daniel was awaiting sanction from Taunton for the same transgression: not looking out for Julia. But he was here to prove him wrong.

  Ceiling-high bookcases filled one side of the room, a stone hearth the other. Above the mantel hung an oil painting of the bucolic English countryside. The earl stood across the room before windows overlooking the back courtyard and lawns. Hands clasped behind his back, he appeared lost in the scenic vista outside.

  The butler’s introduction had rebounded off the walls and filled the room. Daniel had opened his mouth to speak, but found he had been at a loss for words, the etiquette for this situation having eluded him. He had never ruined anyone’s daughter before.

  Taunton rescued him from his indecision. He faced Daniel, his tone deceptively calm for a man bent on avenging his daughter. “I see you ran into Edmund, or rather his fist, as he was leaving. You will have to ice that cheek, it is blooming a mean black and blue. I hope you got a shot in for me.” Taunton did not wait for a response. “Edmund ended the engagement. He cited breach of contract due to Julia’s indiscretion with another party.” He narrowed his eyes. “I believe you are aware of the particulars, being the other party identified.”

  He held Taunton’s gaze, surprised to find no censure there and gave a curt nod. “I am, sir.”

  “So it is true?” Taunton pressed. “You kissed Julia, your twin brother’s fiancée, in broad daylight, in a main thoroughfare at the fair?”

  Edmund always had been a lying bastard. As if they had been a bloody exhibit at the fair. He clamped his mouth shut. The truth could not be buried in Edmund’s lies. Julia deserved better.

  He straightened to his full height, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked Taunton straight in the eyes. “Yes, sir, I did. And I am here to make things right and do the honorable thing. I would like your permission for Lady Julia’s hand in marriage.” He anticipated Edmund’s bellow of rage. He hoped his brother choked on it.

  Another silence stretched between them, this one drawn tight as a bowstring.

  Taunton shook his head. “It is the damnedest thing. I cannot decide if I want to call you out or thank you. Therein lies the problem.”

  “Sir, I understand your desire for pistols at dawn,” Daniel said as he shifted his stance, sweat pooling between his shoulder blades. “However, my obtaining a special license might alleviate matters. I do—”

  Taunton held up his hand. “Pistols at dawn will not be necessary—yet.” He strolled over to a tall glass cabinet and extracted a decanter of brandy and two snifters. He handed one to Daniel, generously filled them, lifted his glass in a toast, and then downed it. “You see, while I signed the betrothal contract, I had reservations.” He poured himself another, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, motioning Daniel to sit.

  Daniel hesitated. The conversation was not going in the direction he had expected. His request for Julia’s hand hung suspended between them. He warily took his seat, but found, unlike Taunton, he could not relax.

  Taunton leaned back against his desk and twirled his glass in his hand, brooding into it. “I never thought Edmund the right man for my Julia, but she seemed quite decided on him. At the time, her mother was alive, and she thought Julia would be a good influence over Edmund. As my Meg had been on me.” He shrugged. “Now it is a moot point, which brings us to our present predicament.”

  “Sir, I am quite prepared to—”

  “So you say. But you are asking the wrong person. You need to speak to Julia. My apologies, but you might as well learn sooner rather than later, Julia is too old and too strong willed to be browbeaten by me or anyone else.” He looked rueful, but then his eyes hardened. “But while I concede that she is old enough to make up her own mind, you need to make damn sure she makes it up in your favor.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand. But . . . ah . . . will she speak to me?” He cursed his hesitancy, but he needed to know.

  “Julia is upset and confused. She is packing her bags as we speak, determined to go to London, to put as much distance as possible between herself and Bedford Hall.” He shrugged. “London will be quiet. Being out of season, most families will be at their country houses. A change of scenery might help to settle her nerves, for I fear that right now Julia is leaning toward ruination over another engagement. It is your job to convince her otherwise.”

  “That could be difficult if she refuses to speak to me, and if she flees to London,” he said, his tone bleak.

  “If she was totally averse to you, we would not be sitting here in the first place, having this particular conversation, would we?” Taunton gave him a wry look.

  Heat climbed Daniel’s neck. Taunton had a point. He refused to believe Julia would have kissed him with so much passion if she had not felt something for him.

  “Edmund has agreed to wait a fortnight before announcing the broken engagement. Those were my terms if he wanted
me to forgive his debts to me and forfeit Julia’s dowry. One more thing, Daniel. There is no money for another dowry. I am—”

  “Julia’s hand in marriage is payment enough.”

  “On the bright side, after last night and today, Edmund is no longer your problem. However, on the dark side, the obstacle you need to breach will be my lovely daughter’s sheer stubbornness. Just remember that Julia is all about family.” His voice lowered to a quiet murmur. “She deserves one of her own.”

  JULIA PACED THE library, her heart so heavy it weighed down her steps. She searched for a book to occupy her during the journey to London. She needed an escape, preferably a wrenching saga of war and mayhem. A scene of carnage to rival her own. She bypassed the volumes of Shakespeare, for her life already embodied a Shakespearian tragedy, complete with mistaken identity, mixed twins, and star-crossed lovers. She paused, the latter notion discomfiting.

  She did not love Edmund. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. Last night in Emily’s arms, she had shed enough tears, but none over the loss of her Damn Duke. The tears were shed over her own youthful folly.

  She shuddered at how close she had come to paying a price for being young and besotted. She had almost been tethered to a man she not only could not love, but could never respect. That would have been a far too grievous price to pay. People survived loveless marriages, the ton being full of them, and she would have survived hers. But not without respect.

  She rested her head against a bookshelf, the cool cherrywood soothing against her aching temple.

  Had she ever loved Edmund?

  She recalled their whirlwind courtship. Edmund had been a larger-than-life figure in her childhood. She had not been able to believe he deigned to smile at her, let alone single her out for his attentions and offer for her hand. Handsome, charming, and dashing, what woman could resist Beautiful Bedford? And then he was hers. Only he never really had been. After she had postponed their wedding twice for her family’s sake, Edmund’s visits had become as rare as rain during a drought, their relations becoming distant and cordial.