Duchess by Deception

by Marie Force

  Catherine burned with embarrassment when she realized how she must sound to him. If only he knew how many places she wished to go to and things she wished to do. Her wanderlust had made her an oddity at home, and she probably would’ve been wise to hide that side of herself from Jack until she knew him better. However, after the intimacies they’d shared, it seemed foolish to hide any part of herself from him. She wanted to know everything about him, so how could she expect that he’d want anything less from her?

  “I’d give you the world if I could. I hope you know that.”

  “You are sweet to say so.” She cupped his cheek and brought him in for a chaste kiss. “I was foolish to mention it. I’m happy to just be here with you, to be married to you. Please don’t think that I require anything more—”

  He rested a finger gently over her lips. “I always want you to tell me your fondest hopes and dreams. How am I to make them come true if I don’t know about them?”

  Catherine studied his handsome, earnest face and wondered—not for the first time—how she’d ever gotten so lucky as to have landed such a husband. Surely there was not a man among the vaunted aristocracy who could compare to her estate manager. When her day of reckoning came with her parents, she would hold her head up high and proudly introduce them to the best man she had ever known. Lord Lindsey, on the other hand . . . She shuddered at the memory of his filthy hands pawing her the way they might a side of beef.

  “What?” he asked, concerned. “Something just frightened you.”

  “I am deeply afraid of what Lord Lindsey will do to you once he learns we are married.”

  “I am not the slightest bit afraid of him. If he so much as raises a finger to either of us, I will make certain that all of London and Parliament know that he attacked a young woman in her father’s parlor and would have raped her had her rambunctious brothers not taught her how to defend herself against such scum.”

  “And your duke will have no problem with you making such a public spectacle of yourself?”

  “I assure you that my duke has absolutely no patience for men who bully or attack women.”

  “I think I’m going to like your duke,” she said with a sigh of contentment.

  “I’m quite counting on that.” He twisted her curls around his fingers. “So where would you like to spend your honeymoon? Here or the cottage?”

  “The cottage,” she said without hesitation. “I want to cook for you and play house and look for my grandmother’s key for as long as we possibly can before you have to return to work.”

  “Then we shall set out for home tomorrow.” Pausing, he added, “Although, now that you are under my protection, you no longer need the resources your grandmother made available to you.”

  “Perhaps not, but I’d still like to find the key and recover her property.”

  “Then that’s what we shall do. I wondered, though, did your grandmother and the former duke conceive a child together?”

  “Oh, no. She didn’t have children until much later, after she married my grandfather.” Propping her chin on his chest, she studied him. “Tell me more about this courtesan friend of yours.”

  Jack surprised her when he rolled them, so he was once again on top of her. Catherine pushed back the shank of hair that covered his forehead. “Rather than tell you about her, how about I show you some more of what she taught me?”

  Catherine released a most unladylike squeal. “There’s more?”

  His rakish grin lit up his face. “My love, we’ve only just begun.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Simon presented his card to the Brisbanes’ butler and wiped sweaty palms on his pants as he watched the man ascend the staircase to the second floor. He’d worn the most elegant clothing he owned and had asked his valet for the velvet waistcoat that his tailor had insisted was all the rage. The tight fabric gave the feeling of confinement, like a wild tiger would feel inside a cage. A hot ball of nerves had settled in his throat, giving him the sensation of being strangled since he walked away from Lady Madeleine the night before. Leaving her at the ball with scores of other admirers, Simon had experienced a most uneasy—and unprecedented—sensation.

  Some might call it jealousy. Simon couldn’t say for sure as he’d never before experienced the emotion. And Simon Eagan knew himself as well as it was possible to know anything.

  He was painfully aware of his sordid reputation and less-than-stellar behavior with the fairer sex. In fact, until the night before, his awareness of his failings had never been painful. Now, for the first time, he had cause to worry that his past might stand in the way of something he desperately wanted.

  Just how much did Brisbane know about him? That was anyone’s guess.

  All night long, Simon had lain awake, pondering the mysteries of fate. If you had told him a week ago that Derek would be considering marriage to a woman with whom he was besotted to protect her from a vile lord, Simon would have laughed. If you had told him two days ago that he, Simon Eagan, would abandon his hedonistic pursuits after being in the presence of a young maiden exactly once, he would’ve challenged you to meet him at dawn with your pistols drawn. And that the two women were sisters only made the situation that much more comical—and fitting.

  A gentleman—if you could call him that, and many would not—didn’t call on a marriage-minded young miss unless he had marriage on his own mind. Simon knew that, of course, but even the thought of that dreaded institution had not kept him from his promise to call on Madeleine today. In fact, it had never occurred to him not to keep their appointment. That alone should’ve been disconcerting but wasn’t.

  Muffled voices filtered down the stairs from the drawing room. He tilted his head to better hear them. A woman and a man. No, two women and a man. One of the women was young, her voice higher than the other’s. It was her. Madeleine. Simon’s heart quickened in response to being so close to her, to hearing her voice, even if it was muted by a door.

  “I absolutely forbid it!” The earl’s voice—and his anger—was loud and clear even through the closed door.

  Simon took a step back, astounded by the fury behind the statement. Well, that solved one mystery. Clearly, Brisbane had asked around about the man his daughter had shown an interest in the night before—and not liked what he’d heard.

  “. . . a rakehell of the highest order.”

  Simon winced at that one. Not the highest order. Close to the top, maybe, but London certainly boasted worse rakes than him, or so he thought. How could one really know for sure?

  “. . . believing idle gossip.”

  Thank you, Madeleine. If he weren’t already falling madly in love with her, he would have been after hearing her defend him.

  “. . . not idle gossip. Fact.”

  The sheepish-looking butler descended the stairs. “May I offer you some refreshments while you wait, sir?”

  “That’s quite all right, but thank you.”

  The butler glanced upward. “It’ll be just another moment. My apologies for the delay.”

  “No need to apologize.”

  “. . . whether you like it or not!”

  Simon felt a charge similar to that he often experienced at the track when his favored horse surged into the lead. Winning always thrilled him. Go, Madeleine. Go.

  A door upstairs was flung open and then slammed shut.

  The butler, who’d resumed his post by the front door, winced as the sound echoed through the foyer like a shotgun blast.

  “Come back here this instant, young lady,” the earl shouted.

  And then there, at the top of the stairs, his Madeleine appeared.

  Simon sucked in a sharp breath of surprise at her sudden appearance. Behind her, a lady’s maid watched the scene with wide eyes. In a most indelicate fashion, Lady Madeleine stormed down the stairs, seemingly fueled by fury. If Simon had fallen for her docile, ladylike side last night, today’s hellcat would be the very ruination of him.

  When he went to swallow, he dis
covered all the saliva had drained from his mouth. She wore a pale green silk gown with a portrait neckline that showcased her spectacular bosom. Not that he was looking. The day before yesterday, he would have taken a good, long—some would say indecent—look. But as the changed man he now was, he took only a fleeting glimpse and then turned his gaze to her face, which was stained with red. Apparently, when her dander went up so too did her color. Good to know for future reference because he fully intended to get her dander up as soon and as often as he possibly could.

  “I apologize for making you wait, Mr. Eagan,” she said when she reached the foot of the stairs.

  “No need for apologies, my lady.” He took her gloved hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back. “You look absolutely lovely this fine day.”

  “Thank you.”

  Was she flustered by him, or was that just wishful thinking on his part? Probably wishful thinking in the wake of the row with her parents.

  Speaking of her parents, they appeared at the top of the stairs, their stormy expressions leaving little to the imagination.

  Lady Madeleine turned to her maid, who wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders, and then turned back to Simon wearing a magnificent smile. “Shall we?”

  Simon started to offer his arm, but then glanced at the pair upstairs. The day before yesterday, he would have spirited her out of there before her parents could stop them. Today, he knew what he had to do, no matter how unpleasant it might be. He glanced at Madeleine, who seemed completely uninterested in doing the right thing, and beseeched her with his eyes to allow him to at least attempt a proper courtship.

  She released a rattling, resigned breath, and he admired her restraint. Her lady’s maid seemed to quake in anticipation of the coming battle.

  Lord and Lady Brisbane came down the stairs arm in arm, a regally united front.

  Simon bowed to each of them. “My lord, my lady, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance once again.”

  “Eagan,” Lord Brisbane said without preamble. “If my associates at White’s are to be trusted, you are not the kind of man a father wants courting his daughter.”

  “I’m afraid your associates are quite correct.”

  Madeleine and her mother gasped.

  “However,” Simon said, glancing at the woman who had changed his life in one fateful instant, “that was before.”

  “Before?” Lord Brisbane said, his expression rife with confusion and disdain.

  “Before I laid eyes on the exquisite Lady Madeleine. If any woman can reform a man like me, I believe she can.” He called upon his most charming smile and directed it at her. “I’d certainly like to find out.”

  The pulse at the base of her neck beat frantically, which Simon took as a sign that his most charming smile was still quite formidable, even when used on the most important of women.

  “Well,” Lady Brisbane harrumphed, “I never.”

  Simon turned again to Madeleine. “My lady, I believe I promised you a walk in the park.” He extended his arm. “May I?”

  As he waited to see what she would do, whom she would choose, Simon was acutely aware that his future happiness hinged, for the very first time, on the whims of someone other than himself. He didn’t dare breathe or blink or swallow while a seemingly endless moment passed in which the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway beat in time with his rampaging heart.

  Finally, when he’d begun to assume that all hope was lost, Madeleine curled her hand into the curve of his arm and sealed her fate along with his.

  “You may,” she said with a demure smile, all signs of the hellcat long gone.

  Simon hoped she’d be back. He hadn’t seen nearly enough of her.

  Behind them, her lady’s maid released a sigh that sounded, at least to Simon, like approval.

  Her mother, on the other hand, continued to glower at him as he led Madeleine to the door.

  “Eagan.”

  Simon turned to face the earl.

  “If you step one inch out of line while you are courting my daughter, you will never see her again. I promise you that.”

  “And I promise you I shall never even approach the line of which you speak while I am courting your daughter, my lord.”

  Shockingly, that seemed to pacify the earl, if not his wife. Simon decided to get the hell out of there while the getting was good. He ushered Madeleine through the door that the butler, whom Simon now thought of as his partner in crime, hastily opened for them. Simon nodded to him and swore the old man winked. Or was that, again, wishful thinking?

  Once they were outside, Madeleine released a long, tortured sigh. “That was highly unpleasant and utterly mortifying.”

  Simon laughed at her acerbic tone, already charmed by her. “I’m sure I’ve faced worse. I’m just not sure when.”

  “It was ridiculous and unnecessary. I’m hardly a blushing maiden in the throes of adolescence without a shred of judgment when it comes to gauging another’s character.”

  Simon swallowed hard. “And what, pray, does your judgment tell you about my character?”

  “That I should stay far, far away.”

  “And yet you are here with me after putting up a fight that Napoleon himself would admire.”

  She flashed a saucy grin. “You think so?”

  “Most assuredly.”

  “That’s about the nicest thing you could say to me.”

  Right then and there, Simon realized he had fallen for no ordinary female. Most of them cared more about their clothing and hair and dance cards than they ever would about their ability to stand toe-to-toe with their disapproving parents. His respect and admiration for her, already through the roof, went up a few more notches.

  “Do you often wage war with your parents?” he asked as they strolled toward Hyde Park.

  “I never used to,” she said wistfully. “Ever since everything happened, they’ve changed. They’ve become people I barely know or recognize. They used to trust me and my judgment. Now I’m treated like a dunderheaded female who hasn’t a lick of sense or an original thought in her head.”

  Oh, how he loved her. With every word she spoke he fell harder.

  “Why are you staring at me? Oh heavens, I’ve shocked you with my candor. When will I ever learn to keep some of my thoughts to myself?”

  He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to kiss her until she could no longer think or speak. But then he remembered the promise he had made to her father not even five minutes ago and reined in his baser desires. “I hope that you will never learn to keep your thoughts to yourself. I rather like hearing them.”

  “Do you?”

  “Indeed.”

  “But you’ve heard only one of them!”

  “I want to hear all of them.”

  She flashed the same saucy grin that he wanted to awake to every day for the rest of his life.

  “Well, I hope you have a lot of time, because I have many, many thoughts.”

  “I have all the time in the world to give to you, my lady.”

  Behind them, her maid sighed with what definitely sounded like approval.

  Simon smiled. All was right in his world. For now.

  The next day, Simon sent word via a footman to Derek, letting him know that he’d discovered Lord Lindsey was not in the city. Simon also mentioned that he would be detained in London by a personal matter that might lead to more information about Lady Catherine. Simon was intentionally cryptic in his message to his cousin. During his afternoon stroll with Lady Madeleine, she hadn’t mentioned her missing sister, and Simon didn’t wish to bring up what might be a sore subject. He’d decided to wait for her to confide in him.

  He was due to see her again that afternoon and couldn’t wait. They’d drawn curious stares and mumbling comments during their stroll the day before, but neither had bothered to pay attention. They’d been far too absorbed in each other to be concerned with idle gossip.

  Simon wondered how long he had to court her before he could ask
for her hand. He wished Derek was about to give him advice on such things. God knows Simon had never paid much attention to these rituals in the past. He’d have to ask Enderly about the rules. He would know. Whatever it took to make Lady Madeleine his forever. Suddenly, she was the only thing that mattered to Simon.

  The door to the morning room burst open and in strode Simon’s father, Lord Anthony, a stormy expression on his lean face. Oh dear.

  “What in the devil are you doing here?” Lord Anthony asked his son.

  Simon paused in applying marmalade to his toast. “Nice to see you, too, Father. Wherever have you been?” That his father kept a mistress was no surprise to Simon, but he suspected his mother retained her illusions when she was aware enough to wonder where her husband might be.

  “None of your concern.” He accepted a cup of tea from the footman who had hurried to tend to Lord Anthony the moment he entered the room. It amused Simon, and Derek, too, when he was in residence, the way the London staff fawned over his father as if he were still the head of household. Simon suspected that was one of two reasons his father spent much of his time in the city. “Where is your cousin?”

  “He has retired to the country.”

  Anthony looked up with surprise. “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “Well,” Anthony said with a satisfied smirk, “he’ll never find a bride in time at this rate.”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain of that,” Simon mumbled. His father’s naked ambitions sat poorly with him. Simon’s loyalties would always remain firmly with Derek.

  “What did you say?”

  “I wouldn’t count Derek out just yet, Father. He still has a week in which to marry.”

  “And who, pray, will he find to marry in seven days’ time if he is not here in London?”

  “I can’t imagine.” Derek might already be married, but no way in hell was Simon’s father going to hear that news from him.

  “You know something.” Anthony’s shrewd eyes zeroed in on his son in a frosty stare that used to reduce Simon to a sniveling fool. Not any longer, however. Simon had long ago outgrown the need to please his father that had driven him during his formative years—and Anthony knew it.