The Duke of Danger

by Burke, Darcy

  She felt a bit better as they arrived at the Clares’ house. But then a burst of apprehension sparked through her. This was the first time she and Lionel had arrived at an event together. Would there be a reaction, or had the excitement of their marriage faded after a fortnight?

  Ivy stood in the entry hall to greet people as they arrived—and to accept their donations. Lionel handed her a banknote and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  “Two hundred pounds?” Ivy breathed. She looked up at Lionel, smiling broadly. “Thank you so very much.”

  As Lionel moved on to speak with West, Emmaline went to her friend. “Do you still want me to come to the orphanage tomorrow to help you with allocating tonight’s funds?”

  “Yes, please. I know how much visiting the orphanage affected you, and I’m so glad you want to help.”

  “I’m delighted to. I still need to shop for the toys and books I want to bring—Axbridge wants to come with me to deliver them.”

  Ivy’s brows arched. “Indeed? Then I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave so much. Did you know?”

  “I didn’t.” Her gaze drifted to him. He stood in profile, his handsome features only partially visible, but no less magnificent. Pride welled in her chest that she was married to such a fine man—and it wasn’t to do with how he looked.

  Wait, she’d thought him a horrible person just a few short weeks ago! But that was before she’d come to know him. At least a little. There were so many things she had yet to learn. She realized she wanted to.

  “He’s really quite wonderful,” Ivy said softly.

  Emmaline couldn’t respond, as the line behind her was growing. She moved on to greet West, then took her husband’s arm as they made their way upstairs to where the musicale would be held.

  “You were very generous,” she said as they ascended the stairs. She was intensely aware of where she touched him. And of the fact that it didn’t come close to appeasing the need he aroused in her.

  “Your impassioned description of your visit the other day made quite an impact.” He glanced down at her once they reached the top of the stairs. “You possess a loving heart.”

  Did she? She would’ve described her heart as a blackened shell, abused and destroyed by unrequited love and affection. First with her family and then Geoffrey. She hadn’t realized until that moment that he really hadn’t loved her. He’d said on more than one occasion that he ought to have married for wealth instead of beauty. He’d followed such statements with apologies and begged her forgiveness. In retrospect—between his words and his actions—she could see how he’d truly felt.

  “What’s wrong?” Lionel’s sudden question indicated she’d done something to reflect her inner disquiet.

  She forced a smile. It seemed they weren’t to the point where they shared personal things, such as whatever had plagued him. Besides, this wasn’t the place. “Nothing. Shall we go in?”

  He guided her into the large drawing room. It took up a good portion of the entire floor. Chairs were set up in front of a dais where the opera singer would entertain them. A couple dozen people were already in attendance, and they took notice of the new arrivals. It wasn’t the same as the reaction at the Colne ball, but it was notable.

  Aquilla and her husband, Lord Sutton, as well as Lucy and her husband, Lord Dartford, rushed over to greet them.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Aquilla gushed.

  Dartford looked over at Emmaline. “Do you mind if we steal your husband? We need a bit of fortification in the way of whiskey if we’re to make it through the evening.”

  Lucy swatted his arm. “She’s a lovely singer.”

  Dartford made a face. “You know how I feel about opera.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Indeed I do. Behave yourselves.”

  With a chuckle, Dartford led the men off to who-knew-where.

  “How are things going?” Lucy asked in hushed tones as they gravitated toward the edge of the room where they could speak more privately.

  “They are…progressing.”

  Lucy’s eyes lit. “Indeed? That’s splendid.”

  Aquilla nodded. “I’m quite hopeful you will find a way to be happy with Axbridge. I know things didn’t start in the best way—” She winced. “Never mind.”

  Emmaline was about to reassure her friend when the Viscountess Dunn, a petite woman in her sixties with sharp brown eyes, hobbled toward them.

  Lady Dunn stopped before them, leaning on her cane. “Ah, I knew I would find you ladies here—it’s why I gave my companion the evening off.”

  Lucy and Aquilla greeted her warmly. “You know Lady Axbridge, do you not?” Lucy asked.

  “I knew her as Miss Forth-Hodges.” Lady Dunn sized Emmaline up and gave a nod, as if she approved of what she saw. “I’ve yet to make the acquaintance of Lady Axbridge.” Her gaze sparkled with levity. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Emmaline tried to recall the last time she’d spoken with Lady Dunn, and came to the conclusion that it was some time ago. Indeed, she had been Miss Forth-Hodges—that was the house party where she’d met Geoffrey. “Good evening, Lady Dunn. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “I was sorry to hear of your loss, but delighted to see that you have found happiness once more. At least, I hope you are truly happy.” She moved closer and peered purposefully at Emmaline. “The gossip is that it’s a marriage of convenience, which makes no sense to me. Who would even start such a rumor?”

  Emmaline looked at her friends, whose faces bore a mixture of shock and agreement. Indeed, who had started that rumor? Emmaline had only confided to her friends, and they wouldn’t have said anything. Had Lionel shared something? She rather doubted that. He likely would’ve wanted a real marriage from the start and wouldn’t have told people otherwise.

  Lady Dunn continued, “Why on earth would you marry Axbridge of all people—given what he’d done?” She shook her head. “I much prefer the original gossip, that you fell madly in love in spite of what happened between Axbridge and Townsend.”

  Emmaline wasn’t sure how to respond. The viscountess hadn’t actually asked a question, so perhaps she could simply nod and smile.

  “Well, which is it, gel?” Lady Dunn asked.

  Emmaline blinked as panic seeped through her. How on earth could she answer that?

  Lady Dunn laughed. “I’m jesting with you, dear. My apologies if I caused discomfort. As I said, I do hope it’s a happy union. Both of you deserve that. I knew Axbridge’s parents quite well, and they were both lovely. He’s a good boy.”

  Exhaling in relief, Emmaline said, “Thank you for your kind sentiments. It’s nice to hear about his parents. I know he was very close to them.”

  “His father’s death was such a tragedy.”

  Emmaline nodded. “Yes, to be taken so suddenly…”

  “And in such dramatic fashion.” Lady Dunn clucked her tongue. “It provoked the reputation that earned your husband the name the Duke of Danger, of course. Though it’s important to credit Axbridge with being a man of excessive honor, even if he’s been involved in unfortunate events.”

  Emmaline’s interest piqued. She turned more directly toward Lady Dunn. “How did it provoke his reputation?”

  “Because he challenged the awful man. What was his name?” Lady Dunn looked off to the side, her mouth forming a slight frown. “Oh, I can’t recall, but he accused Lord Axbridge—your husband’s father—of cheating at cards. The poor marquess suffered an apoplectic fit and dropped dead. Axbridge—your husband—called the man out.”

  Heart pounding, Emmaline tried not to reveal that she knew nothing of this. She suddenly wanted everyone to believe that her marriage was indeed real, and that she knew her husband far better than she actually did. “It’s a ridiculous nickname. He should be called the Duke of Honor.”

  Aquilla and Lucy exchanged a meaningful look. Then both seemed to wince.

  Lady Dunn gazed at Emmaline with approval. “Perhaps you are right. I’m quit
e glad he found you, dear. I’m sure it saved his reputation. Despite his honor, many people would fault him for what he’s done. I do think he would’ve been ostracized if not for you.”

  Emmaline scanned the increasing crowd for her husband but didn’t see him. Her heart ached for the man whose father had died in such a fashion. He had to have been devastated. And now she knew why he didn’t discuss it.

  “Is that true?” Aquilla asked. “I can’t imagine anyone ostracizing an Untouchable.”

  “Oh, it happens, my dear,” Lady Dunn said. “You’re perhaps too young to remember the Duke of Rockcliffe. He was exiled from Society for…well, it hardly matters now. Just know that it can and does happen. I’m glad you’ve saved Axbridge from a similar fate. I daresay he’ll need to avoid any future duels.” Her gaze trailed off. “Oh, there’s Lady Meacham. Please excuse me.” She flashed a bright smile as if she hadn’t just said Lionel was one duel away from being a total outcast.

  Emmaline turned to Aquilla and Lucy as the viscountess limped away. “Is what she said true? Did I save Axbridge’s reputation?”

  Lucy lifted a shoulder. “Don’t ask me. I don’t pay much attention to gossip. Aquilla is far better at that.”

  Aquilla pursed her lips. “Not on purpose. People talk to me. They find me friendlier than you.”

  Lucy laughed. “That is true.”

  Emmaline looked at Aquilla. “If you heard something, I should like to know.”

  A shadow of discomfort stole into Aquilla’s eyes. “It’s just gossip. You mustn’t pay any heed.”

  “Still, I want to know.” She needed to know. How could she protect him if she didn’t know what people were saying?

  Now she wanted to protect him? Yes, because he’d told her he cared what people think. He’d be hurt to think he was nearly cast out. Particularly when all he’d tried to do was live by a strict code of honor. She longed to know what that meant to him. What had provoked him to duel, and more than once? In the first instance, it seemed clear. He’d fought to defend his father’s honor after his father could not. Again, her heart squeezed.

  “I only heard someone advise that it was best to find a way onto his good side. To find oneself opposing him would be to court danger. To borrow from his nickname,” she hastily added, her voice diminishing in volume.

  Emmaline touched her friend’s arm. “I’m sorry, Aquilla. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I don’t blame you for hearing gossip.”

  Lucy edged closer, lowering her voice. “And we owe you a huge apology. I’m afraid his nickname is because of us. We’re the ones who started giving nicknames to the Untouchables.”

  Emmaline’s mouth ticked up in a faint smile. “Ah yes, I recall Ivy telling me about that.” When they’d first met at that house party. The same one where she’d met Geoffrey. “You mustn’t blame yourselves. And it isn’t all bad. Axbridge told me some find his epithet alluring.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by people beginning to take their seats. Apparently, the musicale was about to begin.

  Emmaline looked over the crowd and this time located her husband. He was taller than most, and with his bright blond hair, he was easy to find. He cut straight toward her, flanked by Dartford and Sutton.

  He offered his arm to Emmaline. “Shall we take our seats?”

  She clutched at him, eager to touch him, to show him she was there for him, that she would protect him. “Yes, please.” She sidled close to him, closer than ever before when they were out together.

  He looked down at her, his gaze tinged with surprise.

  Yes, she was here for him, and later she’d let him know how much.

  Chapter 12

  As one of the top donors to the orphanage, Lionel and Emmaline were given first-row seats. That meant most people in the room could see them, at least partially.

  He’d chosen to sit on the end, and Emmaline occupied the seat next to him. She sat so close, he could feel her heat through his clothing, and her hand was still curled around his arm, prompting him to ask: why?

  Two nights ago, she’d abruptly left the dining room before they’d been carried away. He was certain he’d frightened her, but wasn’t sure how. He hadn’t done—or said—anything that should have shocked her. And she had encouraged him. Until she’d left.

  He was terribly confused. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t also delighted. If she wanted to sit very close to him and touch his arm, he would not complain.

  The soprano’s voice was lovely, ethereal and stirring, but Lionel had difficulty focusing. It wasn’t just that she sang in Italian; he was too distracted by the proximity of his wife. He couldn’t stop trying to reason why she was paying him such close attention.

  By the time the concert finished, Lionel was more than ready to leap out of his chair. Instead, he applauded with the rest of the attendees and waited patiently as people milled about and enthusiastically praised the performance.

  Lionel looked down at Emmaline, who was still clutching his arm. “Would you like to meet Mrs. Pascale?”

  “Maybe later,” she said. “There’s quite a crowd around her. Let’s take a walk instead.”

  She wanted to take a walk? Last time he’d asked her to promenade—at the Colne ball—her response had given him the impression he was marching her off to war.

  Again, he wouldn’t protest the change. “Let’s.”

  He guided her around the chairs and through the throng. People inclined their heads and smiled in greeting, a few words were exchanged here and there. Lionel recognized most everyone, even if he couldn’t recall their name. Until they encountered a woman near the door to the patio. She possessed a charming smile and a rather long nose. Something about her pricked at Lionel’s memory.

  As they stepped outside into the mild night air, he remembered. She looked like the woman he’d passed at Mullens’s shop the other day. Only it wasn’t her. And now he realized who that woman had been—Marianne’s son’s nurse. She’d seemed familiar, and now he wondered why she’d been at Mullens’s shop of all places. It could be a coincidence—what else would it be? Still, it was strange that two people he knew rather peripherally had business together. And what would a nurse be doing visiting a tailor?

  “That woman reminded me of someone,” Emmaline said, surprising him.

  “Who?”

  She stopped as they reached the edge of the patio. “Geoffrey’s tailor—Mr. Mullens. It’s the nose, I think.” She turned, tipping her head up to look at him. “You haven’t met him, but he has a bit of a hooked nose. I would say she could be his sister, but that’s absurd, given that she’s here and he’s a tailor.”

  Lionel’s pulse picked up. “Actually, I have met him, and you’re right.” His mind churned. Could Mullens and Marianne’s nurse be related?

  “You’ve met him?” Emmaline asked with interest.

  “I went to his shop the other day. I was curious about his talents after receiving his invoice. Townsend spent quite a bit of money with Mr. Mullens.”

  “You wanted to see if he was worth it.”

  “I did.” Instead, he’d tumbled into the abyss of despair after Mullens had brought up the damned duel. He pushed that thought away and instead focused on Emmaline’s upturned face. The light from the lanterns on the patio cast a glow that warmed her skin and made her eyes dance. “You’re very…attentive this evening.”

  She shrugged but didn’t say anything.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  She cocked her head to the side and took a moment to respond. “I was speaking with Lady Dunn, and, well, there are too many rumors about us. About our marriage. I don’t want people thinking it’s fake—I don’t even know how that got started. The only people who knew were my closest friends, and they wouldn’t have said anything.”

  Lionel didn’t know either. The only people he knew that were aware of that fact were his butler, his valet, and West. And Sir Duncan, who’d mentioned it at the club. Had he heard that f
rom someone, or was there a chance he had started the rumor? Lionel wouldn’t have put it past him.

  “I suppose people were merely guessing—they want to make sense out of our union.” Unless you were a disgruntled former suitor. “And you must admit, it doesn’t make much sense.”

  To Lionel, however, it was beginning to make all the sense in the world when he thought of the emotions she’d begun to stir in him.

  “No, it doesn’t.” She said this in a rather sober tone, dampening a bit of his spirit. “Still, it’s no one’s business, and I’d just as soon they not think it’s fake.” She edged closer to him so that their chests almost met. Her arm was still curled around his, her stare clear and intense. “And really, it isn’t anymore. At least not entirely.”

  The momentary deflation he’d felt disappeared beneath a rush of ardor. Did she really mean that?

  Be careful, man. She said not entirely. Do not get ahead of things.

  “What does this mean?”

  “It means I like being close to you.” She took her hand from his arm and splayed it over his chest. “And I see no reason to hide that.”

  She stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. It was the barest of kisses, just a fleeting brush of her lips against his, and then she was gone. He desperately wanted more, but they were likely in eyesight of anyone who cared to look.

  He cast a glance toward the doorway and saw two women staring at them. A laugh bubbled deep in his chest as he clasped his left hand around Emmaline’s waist. “Good, because I believe there’s no concealing it now.”

  She turned her head and exhaled, then looked up at him once more. “Can we go?”

  Hell yes, they could go. “I’m ecstatic you asked.” He turned and offered his arm, which she clutched eagerly. His pulse raced, and his cock began to twitch.

  It took them several minutes to locate Ivy and West to say their good-byes and several more for the coach to arrive in front. By the time they climbed into the vehicle, he was strung tight with need. But he wouldn’t leap on her like some sort of beast.