The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1)

by Renee Bernard

  “As I feared, I have overstepped and mistaken a casual conversation and the coincidence of a dance at Pellham’s to color my thinking. How could you truly know him or be aware of these things if the ink on the contracts between the two families was dry before his christening?”

  “Gracious!” Scarlett forced a bright smile. “At our christening, my sister and I were gifted with silver rattles. I did not realize that we might have been given future husbands!”

  Lady Beales blinked, a woman unamused. “The Earl of Gastonbury’s wife was a cousin to the Duke of Stafford’s father and she was always a favorite. These things are never left to chance.”

  “Chance makes us all fools.”

  “Well said.”

  Scarlett lifted her chin a fraction of an inch. “I should thank you for the delicious gossip, your ladyship. I won’t tell anyone else of it since secret engagements are largely unpublished to the general public and it may not be appreciated. He is friends with the Duke of Chesterton, so the passing acquaintance was natural. You so cleverly noted it but conversation and coincidence are not enough for a true connection.”

  “Speaking of Chesterton, is he still being kind to you, Miss Blackwell?”

  Scarlett hated the way she stressed the words ‘being kind’ as if it were a filthy proposition. “Yes. I am very fortunate to have met him.”

  “Indeed.”

  Scarlett waited to see if the old biddy was going to share news of Chesterton also being secretly engaged but was rewarded with only silence.

  She is apparently out of ammunition. Thank God.

  Scarlett held her ground, refusing to prattle on or make a show of discomfort of any kind, until Lady Beales’ will finally broke.

  “I should be going. The time has passed for an acceptable limit to a social call of this nature and I have appointments to keep.” Lady Beales stood and readied herself to leave. “Good day, Miss Blackwell.”

  “And to you, Lady Beales. Mr. Godwin will show you out.”

  Godwin was as intuitive as ever, materializing at the door to politely escort Lady Beales to the front door and smoothly hand her off to her waiting coachman.

  Scarlett stayed in the drawing room for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the departure through the large foyer and the rituals of doors and drivers.

  “Miss Blackwell?”

  “Yes, Godwin? Is she truly gone?” she asked hopefully.

  “Gone and for good, in my humble opinion. I did not like the look of her, Miss Scarlett.”

  Scarlett shook her head. “Nor did I.”

  “Just as I was about to close the door, a messenger came with this note for you.” Godwin held out a white sealed square.

  Scarlett stood and retrieved it from him. The wax seal bore Stafford’s crest and her heart nearly tripped out of her chest at the implications. “Thank you, Godwin.”

  He left her alone with her prize and Scarlett sat down slowly, just holding it.

  It could hold anything, couldn’t it?

  I’m not sure if I want any more surprises today.

  Even so, curiosity won and Scarlett opened it to read the handwritten message.

  * * *

  Miss Blackwell,

  Please meet me at the Apsley Gate at Hyde Park this afternoon at four o’clock. If you can, I entreat you to come alone. I must see you and speak to you privately, the irony being that such a public place seems the least likely to cause a stir. I will count the hours.

  Stafford

  * * *

  Meet him.

  Alone.

  He must see me and speak to me privately.

  Scarlett read it a dozen times, closed her eyes before opening them and reading it twice more. After Lady Beales’ visit, she wasn’t sure what to think. Like Lady Durham, it could simply have been another attempt to dissuade her from approaching her betters—a lie or unsubstantiated bit of a rumor to push her into a snit, or spoil her equilibrium into making a critical social error.

  Or it is all true and Gastonbury is coming to London and Stafford wishes to tell me face to face that he is otherwise committed and to apologize for kissing me as if he were free to do so.

  There was an unmistakable thrill at the notion that he needed to see her. Ever since he’d begun to flirt with her and charm her, it was hard to deny that there had not been several daydreams that involved Talon declaring his feelings and sweeping her off her feet. Chesterton’s recent encouragement gave her strength and hope to name the impossible—the Duke of Stafford was more than an acquaintance; he was a suitor.

  The truth was one meeting away.

  Young ladies generally hid behind their fans when faced with such a prospect but Scarlett was her father’s daughter. It was better to know, no matter how grim, than to sit about like a helpless infant moaning and crying. He would tell her about Lavinia, or…

  Scarlett took a deep breath as the impossibility stepped forward in her mind. Or perhaps he will declare his feelings, throw off his promises to Lady Lavinia and beg for my hand in marriage.

  It was a ridiculous, far flung fantasy but its tenuous hold was tightening around her ability to reason.

  Mother says that knowledge is the key to wisdom.

  If Chance makes us all fools, then I am determined to master the odds.

  Starr came into the bedroom, bonnet in hand. “She is writing a novel!”

  Scarlett didn’t shift from her vanity table. “Yes. She is always writing a novel. It is what Aunt Grace does, dearest. I’m not sure why it’s a revelation to you today but yes…we are all very proud of Aunt Grace.” She continued to see if she could readjust her marcasite hair combs to make a better impression. “Why do I suddenly feel like I have a badger on my head?”

  “Badgers are not blonde,” Starr said as she came to stand behind her. “And this time, Aunt Grace is writing a serious novel! It is all quite secret but she said that she has the courage to try something else. Can you imagine it?”

  “I can. If anyone can accomplish it, it is Grace Rutherford. But,” Scarlett caught her sister’s eye in the mirror’s reflection. “I need your help with something. I need a favor.”

  Starr sobered instantly. “What are you up to?”

  “I need to go out.” Scarlett put down the combs. “Alone.”

  “Alone,” Starr repeated the word, testing the weight of it on her tongue. “Why?”

  “If I tell you, you must swear not to give away my secret.”

  Starr nodded. “You need not bother to ask for an oath. I always keep your secrets.”

  “As I keep yours.” Scarlett shifted to stand, more comfortable with conspiracies when she was on her own two feet. “Stafford has asked to meet me alone at Hyde Park. I think there is something he wishes to ask me—or tell me—or…Well, it is important enough that he has requested, very earnestly, for me to be there this afternoon at four o’clock.”

  “Oh! Do you think he will pro—”

  “Don’t say it!” Scarlett pressed her hands against her cheeks to cool them. “I don’t want to say what I hope and then face disappointment.”

  “Of course. Go. But what will I do to keep them from noticing your absence?”

  Scarlett put her hands at her hips, a sure sign that she was about to dig in with a brilliant plan. “I’ll go let Mrs. Clark know that we’re lying down to rest, that it’s been such a whirlwind lately that Mother would want us to guard our health. I’ll ask her to be sure to have Molly wake us when the gong sounds to change for dinner. That gives me at least three hours.”

  “That’s plenty of time, right?” Starr asked. “But what should I say if you aren’t back before Molly comes to wake us?” The pretense of needing to rest would be easy for the household to believe but Starr’s anxiety was palpable. “Promise me you’ll be back in time!”

  “I promise I’ll be back in time,” Scarlett repeated the oath dutifully. “I have to speak to him. I have to know—where we stand. I feel as if my entire life hangs in the balance of w
hat he has to say.”

  “It may if he intends what we think he intends and asks you, Scarlett. What else could it be?”

  Scarlett’s hands were trembling with nerves as she reached out to hold Starr’s hands to steady herself. “We had such a rough start but—when he looks at me, when he touches me…I cannot help but hope for a fairytale ending and imagine that I might find it with him.”

  “God, it all seems so dire and thrilling! You poor thing!”

  “I’m going. This is my chance!”

  “Good luck, Lettie. I shall be praying for a good outcome every minute that you’re gone!”

  Starr kissed her on the cheek and with that, Scarlett slipped out of the room, down the quiet halls to speak to Mrs. Clark and then with great caution, left the house to hire a hackney to take her to Hyde Park. Her heart was pounding at the audacity of her escape, but it seemed clear to her that great happiness could not be won without great risk.

  Chapter 20

  He was waiting for her at Apsley Gate and Scarlett had to force herself not to run to him like an overexcited child. “Your Grace. I hope I have not kept you waiting long?”

  “No. Not at all. Shall we take a walk, Miss Blackwell?”

  “Yes, please.” They walked together, carefully maintaining a polite and acceptable distance between them, though Scarlett suspected that no one observing them would be fooled in the slightest. “This seems a conspicuous place to request to meet me in private.” Scarlett looked about at the park’s green spaces and the many people enjoying its beauty, strolling the paths and riding in carriages. “It is well attended, Your Grace.”

  “I don’t care who sees us. I just wanted to meet you to talk alone, away from the icy disapproval of chaperones.” He smiled. “We are not children, Scarlett, to worry what the nanny thinks.”

  “No, we are not children,” she said. “And I did need to see you. I have thought of little else but the need to see you, to speak to you again, to make sure that I didn’t somehow you offend you at the derby the other day.”

  “No, not at all. I feared I would say too much, Miss Blackwell. God, there is so much to say, isn’t there?”

  She could only manage a nod, her heart in her throat.

  “Elgin said you were elusive, Miss Blackwell, but I never realized just how truthful he was being when he said it.”

  “If I am, it is not by design. Events have conspired against us since…since the theatre.”

  “A cruel conspiracy,” he said softly.

  Scarlett smiled. “Have you suffered then, Your Grace?”

  “Have you not?”

  Her breath snagged in her chest and she marveled that the world did not come to a glorious halt. “It isn’t proper to ask a lady to confess how your kisses have unraveled her senses, robbed her of sleep and sanity and made her wonder how any person appears normal after discovering such things about themselves. But yes, Your Grace, there you have it. I have suffered.” She nervously touched her throat. “Just a little.”

  “God, how do you do that? Speak of such things to make me want to sweep you off your feet and haul you into the trees like a caveman and then…you make me laugh.”

  “I do pride myself on being unpredictable,” she said with a blush.

  “As well you should! Your unpredictability is one of your most endearing qualities.”

  They continued to walk together, a new delicious tension building between them as the memories of stolen kisses in theatres and in gardens warmed them both into silence. At last, he slowed his steps and guided her to a pretty gazebo set off for the view.

  “Miss Blackwell,” he began. “I have never dallied with women and always prided myself on avoiding foolish entanglements, but after meeting you—after coming to know you as I have, I wonder if I was waiting for you all along.”

  “Oh!” Scarlett pressed her fingertips against her lips, happily anxious to stay quiet and allow her beloved Talon to speak. “Do go on.”

  “You are so independent and such a forward-thinking woman, Miss Blackwell.”

  “Modern times call for modern sensibilities, Your Grace.”

  “Yes, but sometimes a man simply wishes to care and provide for the woman he desires above all others.” Talon took a deep breath. “I wish to care and provide for you, Miss Blackwell. I know it is an irrevocable step to take, but you will never want for anything. A house of your own or even two houses if you wish something nearer my estates to enjoy the countryside, carriages, more gowns than you can wear in a hundred Seasons, jewels, whatever your heart desires—anything your heart desires! We can travel abroad or—”

  Scarlett wiped her eyes, the sentimental tears that had started when he’d first begun to speak now felt like acid on her cheeks. “I…what are you saying, Your Grace? You…what exactly are you proposing?”

  “I am proposing to worship you and spoil you beyond your wildest dreams! I have never kept a mistress and would see that you never felt ignored or unattended in any way. I love you, Scarlett, and I want us to be together.”

  “Together,” she repeated the word, so tantalizingly sweet in her mouth but now strangely bitter. “Not as your wife.”

  “Dearest Scarlett.” He stepped closer, his hands cupping her elbows to draw her near. “I am trapped by my responsibilities and the expectations of the world. If I were some lowly baronet, it would be less confining but I am a prisoner of birth. I was doomed to a colorless existence until I met you—and you have become everything to me, Scarlett. You are my one chance at happiness and I cannot let it slip away. I know this is not precisely what your family had hoped for you but in many ways, is it not an improvement over settling for a dull marriage to some man who invests in railroads or owns a mill somewhere up north? I love you, Scarlett. You will live better than most members of the royal household and never know a moment of sorrow.”

  Never know a moment of sorrow? I am drowning in sorrow! My God…I can’t breathe.

  “You are asking me to be your mistress,” she said the words aloud, shocked that she didn’t shatter with the effort.

  He nodded, his eyes alight with joy and anticipation of her acceptance. “There’ll be a bit of a fuss from your family initially but I think even they will see the advantages of the position when your house makes theirs look like a country shed and my solicitor outlines the financial arrangements. You will have all the wealth of a duchess, but outpace one for independence and freedom! I think it’s the perfect solution, don’t you?”

  “The perfect solution to—what problem?”

  “The—obvious challenges of our…unequal stations, of course.” For the first time, his enthusiasm dimmed and Talon looked at her as if he had only now spotted the vipers and cobras covering their feet. “Scarlett, this is not a trivial offer or an unfeeling one. I adore you and I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives. Do you understand that?”

  She nodded slowly. “I wish Ivy were here.”

  “What? Who?”

  “My friend, Ivy Hastings, has such a gift for language and I never knew it. I never knew how fearless she was—and being with her made me feel fearless.” She let out a slow shuddering sigh. “I need to feel fearless right now. I need to be able to say what I want to say.”

  “Of course you can speak freely with me. Are you afraid to say yes? Are you afraid of your parents’ reactions?” He took her numb hands into his. “I know this is a bit shocking to someone so young but I will protect you. When you kissed me behind that curtain at the theatre, you revealed your true nature—and taught me that you are my match in every way. You are free, Scarlett, free to follow your heart and your desires.”

  “Yes, I am free.” She kicked him in the shin so hard she feared she’d broken her own toes, but it was the most satisfying moment of her life. Talon cried out in pain and stepped back defensively, the surprise on his face rivaled by the agony below his knee.

  “Damn it! What was that for?”

  “All this time! You never changed! You were
always that same arrogant, smug and superior idiot who’d come to call on me after Aldridge’s, who’d sniffed the air of our sitting room and found it wanting and who looked at the house’s improvements and decided that the stench of new money was not to your liking.” Scarlett’s voice rose with her fury. “It was my blindness, wasn’t it? My affection that painted you as a charming thing, as a man with potential and…I filled in all the blank spaces with my own wants and dreams. But you—you never were anything more than a stodgy and stupid duke all along!”

  “I did change! You changed me! I fell in love with you!” He sat down on the gazebo’s railing to grip his leg. “My God, I think you broke my leg!”

  “Stop telling me that you love me. Stop using that word.” She ignored his complaints, her gaze narrowing. “A mistress? For a man who avoids scandal, you certainly embraced it today.”

  He shook his head. “There has been no scandal nor would there be.”

  “No?”

  “What scandal in pursuing the most beautiful girl to ever grace London? What scandal in falling in love and doing everything in my power to win her?” He smiled at her and Scarlett’s heart lurched at the sight of it. It felt unfair that with a simple smile he could silently command her body’s attention and rattle her composure with a warm weak avalanche of tenderness.

  She wheeled without warning, her skirts rustling in the quick turn as they swept behind her. “Everything in your power?” Scarlett stared at him as if he had transformed into something else, someone else, before her very eyes. “Your powers are very limited, Your Grace, if the height of them is to ask the woman you say you love to be your whore. Is there not scandal in that? Or is the proposition a fragile and weightless thing until a wicked answer is provided to give it life? Oh, wait! Never mind. The scandal would be for me to bear! It would be my downfall, my destruction, my end—how delightfully convenient! No one blames you for pursuing a girl but I can assure you that they very much blame that same girl when she is caught! You insult me.”