The Duke's Dilemma

by Nadine Miller

  Against - her will, Emily glanced over the railing fronting the box. The entire lower floor looked like giant pendulum, swinging from left to right—right to left as all heads swiveled back and forth between the Duke of Montford’s box and the one in which she sat.

  The silence in the vast auditorium was unnerving and when the orchestra suddenly struck its opening chord, she nearly leapt from her seat.

  “Do stop fidgeting, Miss Haliburton,” Lady Sophia said smugly. “Sit back and enjoy yourself. It bids fair to be a rousing performance.”

  Emily sincerely hoped she was referring to the one on stage.

  Jared still couldn’t believe his eyes. At first glance, he had assumed the fashionable young woman sitting in his aunts’ box must be the daughter of one of their titled friends. It was only when he took a second look that he realized who she actually was.

  Emily!

  His first reaction was a relief so profound it made his head swim; his second was total bewilderment. What was Emily Haliburton doing in his aunts’ box at the opera?

  He looked again. And what in the name of heaven had the woman done to herself? Her hair was different—not at all as he remembered it—and there was such a disgraceful amount of her generous bosom showing above the neckline of her daring gown, she might as well have been sitting there stark naked for all that was left to the imagination.

  He lowered his glasses, suddenly aware that every eye in the place was on him.

  “Who is the pretty young thing in your aunts’ box, and why is she attracting so much attention?” Lady Crawley asked.

  “She is attracting attention for the rather obvious reason that she is rigged out like some high priced Cyprian,” Jared declared in a choked voice.

  “Nonsense. She is dressed in the first stare of fashion, and quite uniquely so. Not many women would dare wear that particular shade of green, but it is most attractive on her.”

  She took another look. “And if it is her neckline you’re criticizing, it is no lower than that of any other woman in the room.

  “She is not any other woman in the room,” Jared growled. “And I have half a mind to haul her out of that box and give her the thrashing she deserves.”

  A smile of dawning comprehension flitted across Lady Crawley ‘s exquisite face. “Good heavens. Is that your Miss Haliburton? I wonder why the gossips called her plain?” She regarded Jared with puzzled eyes. “I thought you said she was lost.”

  “She was as far as I knew,” he replied bitterly.

  A sudden movement among the dandies gathered in the pit directly below him caught his attention and he found himself staring directly into the terror-glazed eyes of his heir presumptive.

  Some pink of the ton took her up in his curricle.

  Percival owned a curricle—a garish rose-and-black curricle.

  Beside the earl stood a smiling George Brummell, who raised his hand in a brief but telling salute.

  With maddening precision, the pieces of the mysterious puzzle fell into place. All the long, agonizing nights he ‘d haunted the most dangerous streets of the London slums searching for her, Emily had lain safe and snug in one of his aunts’ feather beds—and neither she nor his bacon-brained relatives had had the decency to put him out of his misery, “I am going to strangle the lot of them,” he muttered, starting to rise from his chair.

  Lady Crawley caught his arm. “No, your grace. Think! You will only embarrass yourself and embarrass me—and unless I am mistaken, that is exactly what the ladies across the way would enjoy most.”

  Jared sat back down. “Of course. You are absolutely right. I tend to lose my head whenever I am near Emily.”

  “Lucky Emily,” Lady Crawley murmured.

  Jared ignored her jibe. “I can understand why she would want to take revenge on me—she has good reason. But why are my two aunts aiding her? What have I done to them?”

  “You mean aside from publicly humiliating them by failing to choose one of their five candidates after they ‘d informed the entire ton they were arranging your marriage?”

  “Oh that!” Jared drummed his fingers an the railing in front of him, pandering the truth of Carolyn’s explanation. “I believe you’ve hit an it. It is not hard to imagine Aunt Sophia ‘s fine hand in this unfortunate business. How a woman can be so clever and so foolish at the same time is almost beyond comprehension.”

  His mind was made up. “Justified or not, I cannot let them get away with it. I ‘d be the laughingstock of London.”

  “Of course you can’t, your grace. But what can you do to remedy it? And how may I help?”

  Jared caught Lady Crawley’ s dainty hand in his and raised it to his lips. “Simply by being your usual understanding self, dear lady. For to accomplish the task, I shall have to visit my aunts’ box at intermission—which means I must leave you on your own for a few moments. A discourtesy I regret most sincerely.”

  Lady Crawley fluttered the jeweled fan Jared had given her at Christmas with the consummate skill of a practiced courtesan. “Never worry, your grace. I find I am developing a most annoying headache and cannot endure the thought of remaining for the next act…of the opera.”

  “I shall instruct one of the attendants to order my carriage.”

  “That will not be necessary, your grace. If you will be so good as to escort me from the box, I believe we shall find the Earl of Summerlyn hovering about the anteroom, just waiting for the opportunity to escort me home.”

  Lady Crawley’s soft, pink lips tilted in a mischievous smile. “In point of fact, the poor besotted fellow has been hovering about somewhere or other for well over a fortnight; it is high time I gave him a bit of encouragement. Granted, he may be something of a bore, but he does have the loveliest deep pockets.”

  Jared chuckled. “Ah, Carolyn. I do believe I shall miss you sorely. Was there ever anyone like you?”

  “Never, your grace.” Her brilliant smile fell just short of reaching her eyes. “Nor do I expect I shall ever meet anyone quite like you again.”

  Emily didn’t see the duke leave his box at the end of the first act, for she had schooled herself to look everywhere but at the man she most wanted to see. But she knew the exact moment when he did. It was as if all the light in the great auditorium had suddenly been extinguished.

  She settled deeper into her chair, part of her waiting with pounding heart for his return—another part hoping she would never see him again. Perhaps then she could find some enjoyment in the rest of the opera. She might even eventually find some enjoyment in the rest of her life once the image of the black-hearted devil began to dim in her memory.

  “Now where do you suppose the duke and that creature have gone?” Lady Sophia asked. “He’ has never been one to wander about socializing during the intervals.

  Lady Cloris looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “Jared has probably gone home. I warned you we would ruin the opera for him.”

  “Did I hear someone speak my name?”

  Emily swiveled round in her chair, as did the two ladies flanking her, to find the duke standing at the entrance to their box. Dressed all in black and with a devilish smile lighting his strong, chiseled features, he had never looked more handsome…or more dangerous. Emily shivered as a frightening presentiment gripped her.

  “Good evening, ladies. Enjoying the opera I trust. I cannot remember when Catalani has been in such rare form.” The duke’s gaze lingered momentarily on Lady Sophia. “Something I cannot say for everyone.”

  Emily heard Lady Sophia’s sharp intake of breath, and realized she had been holding her own breath since he first stepped through the door of the box. Beside her, Lady Cloris gave a soft, mewling whimper.

  His lazy gaze switched to Emily, and she felt her heart plunge to her toes. “May I compliment you on your exquisite gown, Miss Haliburton. I perceive you have engaged a new modiste—Madame Fanchon, unless I mistake the cut. You must allow me to escort you on a stroll around the antechamber. Such excellent taste
deserves to be displayed.”

  Emily’s knees were shaking so badly, they literally knocked against each other, but she plucked up her courage. “Thank you for your kind offer, your grace, but I am not in the mood for a stroll at the moment.”

  The duke surveyed her with a look so icy, Emily felt the chill penetrate to the very core of her being. “But when shall we find a better time to converse, dear lady?”

  Emily gulped. “I have nothing to say to you, your grace.”

  “Ah, but I have a great deal to say to you, Miss Haliburton. And since we are known throughout the ton to be friends—I very close friends—I should be courting malicious gossip if I failed to acknowledge that friendship publicly.”

  A diabolic smile spread across his handsome features. “And, as I am certain my lady aunts will attest, malicious gossip is the last thing any person of good breeding would wish to court.”

  Sparks flared in Lady Sophia ‘s eyes and she opened her mouth, obviously to protest the duke ‘s less than subtle innuendo. But a quelling look from him instantly put paid to her intention. “Oh. for heaven ‘s sake,” she grumbled. “Do as he says, child. The game is over and the rogue holds the winning hand.”

  With quaking heart, Emily proceeded the duke through the door to the crowded antechamber and placed her hand on the arm he offered. All eyes followed them as they slowly strolled the perimeter of the vast, ornate room, leaving a trail of fluttering fans and whispered speculations in their wake.

  “So, Emily,” he said softly, “you have taken your revenge for the hoax I played on you. And what a cruel revenge it was! I do believe you have more than evened the score.”

  To the eager spectators surrounding them, the duke might appear to be smiling with the easy congeniality of the old friend he purported to be. But Emily could see the pain and anger in his eyes, and her blood ran cold.

  “Smile at me, Emily,” he demanded. “We do not want the gossips of the ton to think we are at odds with each other.”

  Emily smiled. “Pray tell me, your grace, what have I done to you that could compare to what you did to me?” she asked, fanning herself vigorously in the hot, overcrowded room. “Surely a few raised eyebrows and a little tittering behind fans will not mark a man such as you for life. “

  “I do not refer to this tasteless charade you and my lady aunts have carried on tonight,” he replied grimly, “though we will most certainly speak later of the disgraceful way you have displayed yourself.”

  He stared pointedly at her décolletage, and Emily felt her hackles rise. “How I display myself is my own business, your grace, and none of your concern.” She looked about her. As far as she could see, her neckline looked positively modest compared to those of many of the jeweled and perfumed women staring so avidly at the duke and her.

  She tossed her head. “What does it matter? I am already a ruined woman.”

  “Hell and damnation, Emily, your own impetuosity was as much the cause of your ruination as anything I did.” He scowled fiercely. “But be that as it may, you are now my concern whether you like it or not. “

  He raised a hand to forestall the objection that rose to her lips. “Do not fight me on this, for I have had all the trouble from you I can tolerate.”

  “Trouble, your grace?” Emily was forced to move closer to her elegant companion as a couple brushed by them. “I ask you again. Just what is this trouble I am supposed to have caused you?”

  The duke placed a protective arm about her shoulder, but his eyes sparked with angry silver fire. “My God, woman, have you no concept of the hell you have put me through? Five days and five nights I searched for you in every back alley of London, thinking it was I who had driven you alone and penniless into the streets. Can you imagine the horrors I pictured? There were even times when I imagined I…but we will speak of that another day.”

  Emily stared at him in utter bewilderment, the smile he had commanded still frozen on her face. “I am truly sorry, your grace. I didn’t know. It never occurred to me someone like you would care what happened to me.”

  The duke winced as if she had struck him. “Touché, Emily,” he said bleakly. “I doubt the finest swordsman in all of England could have skewered me more effectively.”

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back toward his aunts’ box, literally dragging Emily behind him through the crowd of curious, chattering operagoers.

  Executing a stiff bow first to Lady Cloris then to Lady Sophia, he declared, “You may expect my formal call at your residence tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. I trust that will be convenient.”

  “Of course, your grace. We shall be pleased to receive you,” Lady Sophia replied, looking very much like the kitchen cat with a cornered mouse.

  Emily blinked, wondering why she should be so happy her arrogant nephew was making a social call, when just moments before he had delivered her a cleverly worded insult. What strange creatures these aristocrats were. She doubted she would ever understand them.

  Hours later, as she lay abed reliving her own inexplicable conversation with the duke, she pondered another puzzle. Word by word, sentence by sentence, she recounted everything the charming, unprincipled rake had said, but for the life of her, she could not determine how he had contrived to whitewash his own evil deeds and make her feel as if she were the one who had sunk herself beneath reproach.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It was precisely one minute before the hour of eleven when Jared stepped from his carriage and walked up the steps to his aunts’ Grosvenor Square townhouse. The old ladies were waiting for him in the green and gold salon on the second floor. Emily was not.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, gripped by an uneasy feeling of déjà-vu.

  Lady Cloris looked up from her embroidery. “Miss Haliburton and her abigail have gone for a walk—in the park, I believe.”

  “The devil you say! Is the woman trying to drive me out of my mind? Surely she was aware of the purpose of my call.”

  Lady Sophia chuckled. “Strange as it may seem, your grace, I do not believe she had the slightest notion. We tried to persuade her to await your arrival, but she declined most firmly. As she put it, ‘the duke said all he had to say to me last evening—none of it complimentary. I have no wish to be raked over those particular coals again.’”

  “Miss Haliburton is from a different echelon of society than we are, you see,” Lady Cloris explained in her usual placid voice. “One I am inclined to think is much more honest and direct. She would not expect to be ‘raked over the coals,’ as she put it, one day and proposed to the next.” She knotted her thread and bit it off. “Do sit down, my dear. She should return shortly.”

  Squinting, she rethreaded her needle with a different color thread. “But perhaps it would be wise to have one of the footmen instruct your coachman to return in an hour or so. I doubt she’ll come in if she sees your carriage.”

  Jared did as she suggested, although it annoyed him mightily. Still, he found himself intrigued by the idea of taking Emily by surprise with his offer. No telling how she would show her gratitude for the honor he was bestowing on her but, knowing Emily, she would do something quite unexpected.

  Thirty long, tedious minutes later, he was still listening to his aunts’ idle chatter when Emily walked into the room. He rose instantly and glowered down at her, as was his fashion. Though, in truth, she looked so delectable in her flowered dimity dress, he was hard put to keep his hands off her.

  “You’re still here,” she said, obviously flustered.

  “His grace has been waiting to speak to you,” Lady Sophia said and, leaning heavily on her cane, made her way toward the door. Smiling shyly, Lady Cloris followed suit and, to Emily’s surprise, closed the door behind her.

  “You wished to see me, your grace?”

  “I did, Em…Miss Haliburton.” Jared cleared his throat. Now that the moment had come, he found himself oddly ill at ease. “In my opinion enough has been said on the events which h
ave transpired between us in recent weeks. I prefer not to touch on that subject again.”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I am certain I would feel the same were I you, your grace.”

  Jared did not particularly like her tone of voice, but he dismissed it without comment. “Suffice it to say, I am aware I triggered events which placed you in a compromising position.” Instantly a picture of Edgar stumbling upon them while he lay in her arms with his head on her breast flashed through his mind. The very thought of that softest of pillows caused certain parts of his anatomy to react in ways which were most embarrassing, considering how the new trousers that fool Weston had designed molded his body.

  “If this is an apology, your grace, I accept it in the same spirit it was given, though it is long overdue.”

  “Hell and damnation, Emily. It is not an apology. That is, I suppose it is an apology of sorts, but that is not my primary reason for seeking you out. Honor demands that I offer for you. For while your common roots may exclude from those I would normally consider qualified to be my duchess, you are a virtuous woman.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He had said it and he was heartily glad it was over and done with.

  “You are offering to marry me?” Emily stared at him, agape. Jared had visions of her warm, full lips opening beneath his, that impudent tongue employed in the tantalizing ways he had already begun teaching her in the few passionate kisses they had shared.

  She raised her stubborn little chin and stared at him in that same proud way she had that first morning when she ‘d called him a looby. “You must be mad to think I would consider marrying you,” she said. “One day you are a lying, scheming highwayman who takes unspeakable liberties with my person; the next you are an icy aristocrat whose very look freezes me to the bone. I cannot think either of your personalities would qualify you for the role of loving husband any more than my ‘common roots’ would qualify me for the role of duchess. In short, your grace, we simply would not suit.”

  Jared chuckled to himself. What a saucy baggage she was; just thinking about her in his bed made his blood race so hotly he had to blink his eyes to clear his vision. “You will learn what is required of you in time,” he said confidently. “I do not demand instant perfection. I am not, after all, an unreasonable man. My aunts can instruct you in many of the things you will need to know as my duchess and I will personally instruct you in others.” What those others would be he dared not mention until they were safely married.