The Daring Duke

by Jess Michaels

  “I have always liked minor viscounts,” James said. “And I like your grandfather, truth be told. Perhaps once we are wed, he can meet you and see that you are worthy of his attention. If he doesn’t, then please refer to the speech I made about being the Duke of Abernathe and far more important than anyone else in the room.”

  “James, I have virtually no dowry,” she said.

  He looked around and she tracked his gaze. All around her were beautiful, expensive things. He finally looked back at her. “Do I look like I am hurting for funds?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not, but—”

  “No buts. That is two, Emma, two not very good reasons that I should not uphold what I vowed not only to your parents but to a room of incredibly gossipy ladies and lords.”

  She threw up her hand and paced away. “Then let us get into the meat of the problem. You could have anyone, James. Any beautiful woman in that room we just left or any other in the entire kingdom. I know what I am. I know that I am not the kind of woman that a man like you desires.”

  He made a soft sound in his throat and she turned to find him stalking across the room toward her. He caught her elbows and drew her up hard against him, then his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately and thoroughly before he gently set her aside.

  “You are a woman I very much desire, Emma Liston,” he whispered, his voice suddenly husky. “So much so that I think I shall not be able to wait until you’re my bride before I make you mine. I desire you completely. And there is no other woman in that room we just left or any other I’ve ever been in who has inspired such focused lust in me. Even when I didn’t want to feel it. Next issue.”

  She blinked up at him, equally stunned by his words and by the fact that he seemed to mean them. He wanted her. Truly wanted her, and from her spinning head to her flexing toes and every inch of her tingling body between…she wanted him in return.

  “Nothing else?”

  “My parents are an embarrassment,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “Marrying me won’t stop my father from acting a fool or my mother from trying to manipulate more and more and more from you.”

  “You are not your parents,” James said softly. “And you know that Meg and I both fully understand exactly what it means to have a parent…or two…who make one’s life difficult. I would never judge you for that.”

  She bent her head, shocked that he could so easily dismiss every fear in her heart. Save one.

  “Finally,” she whispered, “My last objection to this is the most important one. And that is that you have made it abundantly clear to me and to everyone you care most about, that you do not wish to marry anyone. That you have plans for your future that don’t include a bride or children.”

  He was quiet a moment, and her heart sank even though she couldn’t read his handsome face to know what was inside of him. Finally he sighed. “My first response to you is that if this is your final objection, it is only your sixth and not the dozen I was promised.”

  “I’ll think of more, I’m sure,” she said.

  He slid a finger beneath her chin and forced her to look up into his eyes. “Emma Liston, you may think of a hundred more and they will not change a thing about my intentions. You are right that I’ve always thought I would remain a bachelor, that I would avoid the duty my father found most important: to carry on his name and title. But I am not a child anymore. Some things are more important than a fit of pique. Saving you chief amongst them.”

  “Save me at your own peril,” she whispered. “And with the knowledge that you will one day come to resent the options I took from you.”

  He grasped both her shoulders and squeezed gently. “We have become friends, haven’t we?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  “And you want me?” he asked, his voice growing rough again and his pupils dilating.

  She swallowed hard before she forced herself to nod again, this time without speaking a word.

  He smiled faintly. “Then that is all I could hope for. To be with a friend who I desire sounds like a fine marriage, Emma. Anything else I am…I’m incapable of. So this will be enough for me.”

  She stared at him, feeling her heart break rather than soar. He would marry her. There was clearly no getting around that now—he would not allow her to escape it.

  But he would never love her. He was making that perfectly clear. It was funny how disappointing that realization was. After all, she had never believed she would marry for love. At least not for many years.

  But today it felt like a loss.

  Perhaps because she already loved him. And she had a sneaking suspicion that marrying him would only make those feelings grow rather than fade over time. She would be in love alone.

  “I announced our engagement in public, Emma, and thwarted your father’s plans in the most dramatic way,” he said, taking her hand. “And then you fainted. The stir caused by both our actions cannot be understated. Undoing it would only make things worse for both of us, but especially you. You would be in danger from Sir Archibald and your father even more than you were before.”

  “So you will not change your mind?” she whispered.

  His gaze flickered away, and for a brief moment she thought she saw hurt in his stare, but then it was gone. Buried, if it had ever existed.

  “I cannot,” he corrected her gently. “We are going to marry, Emma. And because I do not trust your father, I think we’d better make it sooner rather than later.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  James walked into the billiard room and straight to the sideboard, where he poured himself a full tumbler of scotch. He took a long sip, feeling the burn down his throat as he fought to find breath.

  He was engaged. It was finished. Tonight it would be solidified completely when the planned ball was turned into an engagement celebration after some hasty arrangements from his sister.

  He was engaged.

  “Drink all that this early and you will be no good at the ball tonight.”

  James turned to find Graham, Simon, Sheffield, Brighthollow and Roseford entering the room. Simon reached behind him to shut the door and all five men simply stared at James with equally intense expressions on their face. The emotions were different, though. Graham and Simon both looked concerned, Brighthollow and Roseford looked horrified, and Sheffield was pale as paper.

  “Well, don’t all congratulate me at once,” James muttered, setting aside the liquor.

  “Do you wish to be congratulated?” Brighthollow asked, eyebrow arching.

  James sighed. Hugh had never been a believer in love. He could be hard. And Roseford was little better. He believed in passion and nothing else. The two of them would be horrified that he’d been caught in a web by a lady, of course.

  “I am marrying,” he said, the words surprising him even though he’d been the one to ensure they were true. “It is tradition.”

  “Congratulations,” Roseford said softly, but it didn’t exactly sound sincere.

  “I still don’t fully understand how it happened,” Simon said, stepping up to clap a hand on James’s arm. “Meg was talking so fast when she found me, it took her the entire ride back to the estate just to make it clear.”

  Graham jerked his face toward Simon. “Meg?”

  Simon didn’t look at their friend, but kept his gaze trained on James. “Yes. Late this morning she found me riding around the estate to tell me the news.”

  Graham didn’t look pleased at that, but he said nothing else about the matter except, “I’m not sure what there is to explain, Crestwood. James is marrying Miss Liston in order to save her from the unfortunate match her father made. What else is to be said?”

  “I have to say, I never pegged you as the man to save a woman through marriage,” Roseford chuckled. “That’s more Simon’s speed.”

  Simon ignored the playful jab, keeping his attention on his search of James’s face. “Saving so
meone is well and good and noble. But the question to be asked is if you want to marry her. Do you?”

  James felt like there was a fist in his stomach and it was opening, filling him up, stretching him uncomfortably. A great part of him considered marriage and wanted to bolt into the night and never return. Another part considered marriage with Emma and wanted to curl into her in a way that felt just as dangerous.

  He wasn’t certain which reaction was more terrifying.

  “It is happening, and as quickly as I can arrange it,” he said. “Want no longer comes into the equation.”

  “He is right,” Sheffield said softly, and there was a wistful tone to his voice and to the expression on his face. “Even men like us, men with power, sometimes have little choice in our future. Society and situation dictate us all. It is the way of our world whether or not we wish to accept it.”

  “Jesus, Sheffield,” Brighthollow said with a shake of his head. “Be a little more maudlin.”

  Sheffield glared at him, but then he smiled weakly at James. “I’m not trying to sound dire. The fact is, Miss Liston doesn’t seem the worst sort you could marry. No one can pretend you don’t seem to like her.”

  James bent his head. Like her. What a benign term for what boiled inside of him whenever he was within ten feet of Emma. It was need and want and passion, yes, and all those things he could have accepted and even reveled in.

  But there was more than that physical attraction when he was with Emma. He did like her, but it was more complicated than that rather simple and childish feeling. He felt nervous around her. He felt…restless. He wanted to stand closer to her, he wanted to know more about her, he wanted to protect her, he wanted to show her things and places.

  He sighed. “I do like her,” he admitted.

  “Well, that is better than many men of rank find in a bride,” Graham said. “So we will celebrate with you.”

  Simon nodded and slipped to the sideboard to pour more of the scotch James had been guzzling upon their arrival. He handed glasses all around and then inclined his head toward Graham for the toast.

  “To James,” Graham said, holding James’s stare evenly. “Our fearless leader, who will now fearlessly lead us all into this next phase of our lives. And to Emma, the only woman clever enough to catch him.”

  James smiled and the rest laughed before they raised their glasses in unison. “To James and Emma,” they all repeated.

  James drank again, this time slower in order to savor this moment a little longer. It was likely one of the last he would have as a bachelor.

  Soon everything would change.

  Emma stepped into the ballroom and felt every eye in the room swing to her. She took a long breath and tried to ignore their whispers and glances. She would have to become accustomed to it, it seemed. Certainly the Duchess of Abernathe would inspire such a response more often than plain Emma Liston ever had.

  Especially since she was becoming Duchess of Abernathe under such trying circumstances.

  “Some people get what they do not deserve,” one woman sniffed loudly as Emma passed.

  She stiffened at the slur as she continued walking through the room. Walking toward what, she did not know. She hadn’t yet found James in the crowd and the girls along the wall would not meet her stare anymore.

  Suddenly she felt an arm slide through hers and found Meg at her side, beaming with friendship and love for her, and Emma nearly buckled at it. Marrying Abernathe would make Meg her sister. She was very much looking forward to that.

  “Smile,” Meg said. “I have you now.”

  “It seems your family makes a habit of saving me,” Emma said through a smile that hurt her cheeks.

  Meg shrugged. “You saved us, too, I have not forgotten it. Perhaps that is what family does, save each other. It all evens out in the end, I think.”

  “I hope James believes the same,” Emma sighed. “Though I cannot imagine my helping you once equals the sacrifice he is making on my behalf, no matter how kindly he makes it.”

  Meg turned toward her. “Don’t make him a savior, Emma. His whole life he’s been put up on a high shelf, the heir, the duke, the man who could do no wrong. That makes him a doll, not a man. And he is a man with flaws and faults and pains like any other. Bring him down to be a human with you, be patient with him as he figures this out. Whatever you do, don’t stifle that you love him, even if you think that’s what he wants.”

  Emma jolted. “L-love him?”

  Meg arched a brow. “Will you deny that you love him?”

  Emma sighed. “I suppose I could, but you are tenacious. I assume you would only browbeat the truth out of me.”

  Meg laughed. “I certainly would. Good, I’m glad I’m not seeing things. And I’m glad you love him. He’s had little of that in his life, little of it he could depend upon. I want that for him.” She gazed into the distance. “He’s coming now, coming for you.”

  Emma’s heart leapt and she smoothed her skirts reflexively. “What if I can’t do this?” she whispered.

  “You are stronger than you want to believe,” Meg said softly, then turned her toward James as he took the last few steps toward her. “Now get what you deserve, Emma. Take it.”

  James smiled as he reached them. “Hello, Emma. Meg.” Meg waved as she moved away and James blinked at her hasty exit. “Goodbye, Meg.”

  Emma looked up into his face, thinking of what Meg had just said to her. That he was a man, not anything less or more. Certainly, she was well aware of his maleness in this moment, but Meg meant something different.

  “Should we dance?” she blurted out.

  He grinned. “Aren’t I meant to ask you that?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “We’ve broken with all other tradition in the past twenty-four hours—why not destroy it all?”

  He bowed slightly. “I would very much like to dance with you, Miss Liston.”

  He reached out and she stared as she placed her smaller hand in his. She was wearing gloves, though he was not, but she felt the warmth of his touch regardless. She felt the strength of his hand as he guided her onto the dancefloor. To her surprise, everyone else fell away, leaving them a space as the music began and he spun her into the steps.

  “Why are they backing up?” she whispered.

  “It is our first dance as an engaged couple,” he murmured in return, his gaze never leaving her. “I suppose they are sizing up the match.”

  She shivered slightly. “Then should we give them a show?”

  His smile fell and there was something intense and serious in his gaze. “There are many things that are a show, Emma. But not this moment. Don’t worry about them, just look at me and enjoy this.”

  “It’s hard to enjoy it when I know the cost,” she insisted.

  He shook his head. “I have not made myself clear. There is no cost. Tonight, in this moment, I am right where I want to be.”

  She felt her lips part as joy and hope filled her. She had spent so very long telling herself that a man like this wouldn’t want her, couldn’t truly like her, but now she felt the warmth of him. And it was just for her.

  “So am I,” she said, eliciting another grin from him as he held her hand tighter and whirled her around again and again, until all she could focus on was that she was his. Somehow, against all odds, she would be his.

  James stood in the shadow of a door in the quiet hallway, staring at Emma’s chamber across the way. She was inside, and despite the late hour, she was not alone. He could occasionally hear an eruption of giggles from the room, both Emma’s and Meg’s.

  He smiled at the sound. He was not only bringing a bride into his home, but a sister for Meg. After a lifetime surrounded by him and his friends, he could well imagine she was looking forward to female company in the house for as long as she would remain there before her own wedding to Graham.

  The chamber door opened and Meg stepped out. “Goodnight, Emma,” she whispered.
>
  “Goodnight,” he heard in the distance, and his heart throbbed with the sound.

  Meg was smiling as she closed Emma’s door behind herself and strolled off down the hall, away from the guest quarters, back toward the family rooms. When he heard her door open and shut, he drew in a long breath and walked to Emma’s door.

  There was a moment when he stood there, staring at the barrier that stood between him and what he wanted. He could turn away from it, from her and go back to his room. Self-pleasure was good. He could relieve his desire that way, certainly.

  But he didn’t want to. What he wanted was behind this door.

  He lifted his hand and knocked gently. There was a moment when he heard rustling and then footsteps across the floor.

  “Meg, did you forget—” she began as she yanked the door open. When she saw him standing there, she gasped. “—something?”

  He looked at her. She was already clad in a night rail and a robe. Her dark hair was down around her shoulders, a mass of shining brown curls with little streaks of blond hidden within them.

  And there would be no turning away tonight.

  “I am not Meg,” he whispered as he reached for her. “But I did forget something. This.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. For a moment she seemed surprised, but then she lifted up, her arms coming around his neck as she made a soft sound of needy pleasure in the back of her throat. He pushed her into the chamber and shut the door behind them, reaching back to turn the key before he fully focused on tasting her.

  “How can you be so sweet?” he murmured, drawing back just a fraction and feeling the heat of her breath on his lips. “I never even liked sweets until you.”

  She shivered and he tightened his embrace around her. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why did you come here, James?”

  “To your room?” he asked. She nodded slowly, and he smiled. “Why do you think?”

  She swallowed hard, the action making her throat work. Making him want to trace the path of that action with his tongue until she lifted and moaned against him.