Only a Duke Will Do

by Tamara Gill

  She studied him a moment, and understanding dawned in her eyes. “Very well. I shall be down soon.”

  Merrick left and waited for the duchess, and within half an hour he was seated in the library. Isolde’s brother, the Duke of Penworth, stared at him from across his large mahogany desk, the duchess at her son’s side.

  “Where did you find my daughter?”

  Her tone was to the point and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a little annoyed. “I found her in an opium den. The people with her, or at least one woman, were forcibly blowing the smoke into her face, bringing forth the effects of the drug. I do not know why she was there, and with your permission I would like to stay and speak to her tomorrow to ascertain why she would act so recklessly.”

  The duchess leveled him with a piercing stare, and Merrick shifted in his seat under such scrutiny. It had been a long time since anyone had made him feel like a boy in short coats.

  “As much as I’m appreciative of your help tonight, Your Grace, there is nothing more you can do here. I suggest you go home and get some rest. We will send word if she wishes to see you to thank you for your assistance this evening.”

  Anger ignited within him, and he shook his head, not sure he was hearing her words correctly. “I know what you think of me, and I know that you believe what happened the night before I married Leonora was something I wished for. But you would be wrong. I loved Isolde. I wanted to marry her, and the one woman she trusted most stole that future from us. I think you forget that Lady Alice sought my help this evening, after Isolde had doubts regarding her understanding with Wardoor. Rightful concerns, after what I witnessed this evening.”

  The muscle at the duke’s temple flexed as he played idly with a paperweight on his desk. “We will speak to Alice as to why she went to you, and Isolde, too, as to why she followed Wardoor to such a locale.”

  “Alice came to me because she knows, when it comes to Isolde, I will always be there for her.” And he would be there forever, no matter what happened. It did not matter if she married another, or no one at all. Merrick was determined to win back some sort of friendship, if only to be near her and part of her life.

  Isolde’s brother leaned back in his chair. “Alice mentioned that Isolde was looking to see what Wardoor was about. That she suspected him of something. Was his lordship at this opium den tonight?” The duke ran a hand over his unshaven jaw. “We’ve not seen him since the announcement of their betrothal was made public, and even I’m starting to wonder if he’s suitable for my sister.”

  There was no way in hell Merrick would allow Isolde to marry such a man as Wardoor. How he had not noticed that his friend had fallen to such a low baffled him. Wardoor had been one of his closest friends since Eton. That his life had spiraled to such depths was not what he had wanted to ever see. “I think you shall find that once Isolde is awake and coherent, the understanding she has with his lordship will be at an end.”

  “So Wardoor was there? Why did he not assist my sister?”

  Merrick chose his words carefully, knowing, in time, he would discuss what he beheld Wardoor doing and why. Help him, if he could, to remove himself from such a lifestyle. A mistake he’d made with Leonora that he would not repeat with his friend. “He was otherwise engaged. In fact, I believe Wardoor was not even aware Isolde was present at the establishment.”

  “This is beyond unconscionable.” Her Grace paced behind her son, her silk skirts flying about her ankles. “When I see Wardoor next, he’ll be lucky to remain living.”

  The duke threw his mother a startled glance but didn’t deny her words. “We will speak with Isolde and Wardoor, as soon as possible. But now,” he said, standing, “It is really very late, or early, I should amend, and we all need our rest. We thank you for your assistance, Moore, and as we stated before, Isolde will send word when she’s up for visitors.”

  As much as he wanted to stay, he nodded and stood. “Very well,” he said, walking toward the door but halting at the threshold. “I would like to know why Isolde was at the opium den. And, although I have my suspicions, I wish to know for certain, before I confront Wardoor about his conduct this evening.”

  The duke nodded. “That, Your Grace, is something we would all like to know.”

  Merrick left the house, the cool night air hitting his face. He rubbed his eyes, blinking to rid himself of the fatigue. The reddish glow of dawn pierced the night sky and, entering the hackney cab, he called for home to where bed beckoned.

  If he never had another night like the one he just lived through, he would be a happy man. Not since his son’s disappearance in the East End had fear for another crippled him and left him anxious beyond reason.

  As for Wardoor, well, the man would be lucky to escape with his appendages intact, among other things. How dare he treat Isolde with so little respect, or himself, for that matter? Wardoor should have been cheering from the rooftops that he’d secured her hand, and yet, the misbegotten idiot was slumming in opium dens and engaging in sexual acts that could get him hanged.

  It wasn’t to be borne. Wardoor was skating on very thin ice, and his actions tonight would not go unpunished. Nor would Merrick allow Isolde to enter a marriage that was a mirror image of what his own had been.

  Regrettable misery was not something he wished anyone to live with—least of all, Isolde.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A knock sounded at the door, and Isolde turned to see a footman enter with the silver salver. “My lady. A missive just arrived for you.”

  She took the note. “Thank you.” Breaking the seal, she recognized the writing immediately, and anticipation skittered across her skin.

  Lady Isolde,

  I need to see you. When can we meet?

  Regards

  Moore

  She frowned down at the note, wondering when, in fact, she could do as he asked. Over the last few days her family had cosseted her to the point that Isolde had had to lock her bedroom door just to gain some peace and quiet.

  Out of love they doted on her, out of the fear that she had been injured more than she was, but it still made the attention, which was beyond suffocating, unbearable.

  The clock on the mantle chimed eight, and she threw the note into the fire before heading upstairs.

  “My dear, you’re not ready! We’re to attend Almack’s tonight. Did you not receive my note?”

  Isolde stared at her sisters as they waltzed down the stairs; Alice’s and Victoria’s gowns were the epitome of beauty and youth. “I’m sorry, Mama, I did not.” Not that a night at Almack’s was something she wished to attend, in any case.

  Not now that Merrick wished to see her. Needed to see her… “You go and have fun without me. If I should change now, I would only hold you up, and I must admit, I have a slight headache, still.” The reminder of her ordeal worked as she wished, and her mother strode over to her, feeling her forehead.

  “Straight to bed, my dear. We’ll not be home until late, so do call a servant should you need a tisane. And if it worsens, please have a servant fetch us from the ball. I will return home immediately.”

  “Why so late? I did not think you liked to stay overly long at Almack’s.”

  Her mother adjusted her silk gloves, walking over and checking her hair in the foyer mirror. “We’ve been invited to the Marquess of Booth’s ball afterward, which I hoped to attend. Do you think you shall be well here on your own? You know I would stay if you wished it.”

  “I will be well.” Isolde smiled, in part as the idea of what her night would entail popped into her mind. To be alone with Merrick once more filled her with such tumbling emotions to make her dizzy. Would they talk as they once had, long into the night and about all things that interested them? Would he look at her with such longing that she would be hard-pressed to deny him his every wish? Isolde ushered her mama toward the door. “There is no need for you to look in on me when you return. I shall be asleep, and no doubt the headache will have passed by then.”

  “I
f you’re certain, my dear,” her mama said, a slight frown marring her normally perfect brow. Again she reached out and touched Isolde’s forehead. “You do feel a little warm…”

  Victoria came over and kissed Isolde’s cheek. “We shall miss you tonight, but please get some rest. We have a new wardrobe to purchase tomorrow from Madame Glasse.”

  Alice squealed at the mention of the famous French dressmaker, her sister clapping her hands in excitement. Isolde inwardly cringed. The last thing on her mind was shopping, for the whole purpose was to complete her trousseau.

  Unfortunately, the morning after her travels to an opium den had left her with a very vague memory and, for the life of her, she had not been able to recall what had occurred. Her brother Josh had been persistent with his questioning, as if he knew a little of what had happened but wouldn’t elaborate, wanting her to remember and fill in the gaps herself.

  And it was only this morning that it had come back in full clarity. All day the thought of what she’d seen Wardoor do with the whore and the other gentleman had haunted her. Shame had washed over her that she was betrothed to such a man. That the life he currently lived was the one he would still live when married to her.

  Thankfully, her brother was away from home this day and she’d not been questioned, but come the morning she would have to inform them all that the wedding would never take place and that Wardoor could go to the devil, if he wasn’t there already.

  “I look forward to it,” she said, bidding them good night. Isolde waited for the front door to close before heading back to her room to change. She dressed quickly into a light muslin blue gown and black cloak, pulling the hood over her head to disguise herself.

  Isolde snuck down the servants’ stairs, and not seeing anyone about, slipped through the front door and started down the street. It was only a short stroll to Merrick’s townhouse, and at this time, no one was about to see her, most of the ton already out at the many balls and parties London hosted nightly.

  She came around a corner, and a slight breeze ruffled her cloak and she shivered, pulling it closer about her body for warmth. A light drizzle of rain started to fall from the moonless sky, and only the few lights off the grand homes of Mayfair lit her way.

  For a time, Isolde stood a little way up the street and stared at Merrick’s Hanover Square residence, hoping to summon enough courage to visit him. She was an unmarried woman, after all, and should she be caught doing such a scandalous thing, nothing would save her reputation. A smile lifted her lips at the thought. She no longer saw such a scenario as a bad thing, but possibly her own chance for a happily ever after. After all, Merrick had invited her, stated he needed to see her, and with that thought, she took a step toward his home.

  Since her adventure, she’d been lightheaded and nauseous, enough so that the family had stopped their at-homes over the last few days. Moore had sent missives requesting to see her, and she’d refused them. Not that she didn’t want to see him, for she did, but she’d simply not been well enough to see anyone.

  Isolde frowned, not liking that he could’ve seen such a request as a rebuff, for it was the last of those things. That he’d helped her escape that dreadful opium den, had taken action as soon as her sister begged him to, was something for which she’d never be able to thank him enough.

  Noting a couple walking toward her, Isolde turned and strode with purpose down the darkened alley that ran down the side of the home. She slipped in through a side gate and walked toward the terrace and the library doors that led out onto the flagstones.

  A small glow of a candle flickered through the curtains, and light shone from the upstairs rooms. Isolde snuck up to the door and peeked in through the small gap that she found. Merrick sat at his desk, his hand busy scrawling words across parchment, and she smiled at the vision he made.

  She knocked, the sound so minute that she doubted he heard it, until he paused, looking around the room. Moore turned back to his documents, seemingly dismissing the noise, and then resumed his work. Isolde knocked harder still, and this time he stood, frowning in her direction, although she doubted he could see exactly who it was disturbing his night.

  Her mouth dried at the sight he made as he strolled toward the terrace doors. His shirt front hung open, showing off the hint of a formidable chest that she remembered well, his hair was down and disheveled and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a little damp. Had Merrick bathed in the last hour or so? The thought of water cascading over his body made her envious of the soap that would’ve lathered his skin, left it smelling clean and delicious…

  Isolde stepped back as he made the threshold and swallowed her nerves as he pulled the curtain aside and stared at her. Shock registered on his face, then a hint of pleasure, before he opened the door, looked about outside, and quickly pulled her inside.

  “What are you doing here, Isolde? I thought—are you well? I’ve been worried, having not seen you since I left you with your family.”

  She smiled, shutting the door and closing the curtains to ensure privacy. “Everything is fine, I assure you.” Now that she was here. Was she brave enough to tell him she sought his company? That she wanted to come alone and thank him for what he’d done for her? Taking a deep breath, she fortified herself to be strong, to speak to him as they once had—openly and confidently. “Truth is, when I received your missive I knew I needed to see you, as well. To personally thank you for your assistance the other night. I don’t ever wish to think about what could’ve happened had you not arrived.”

  “Well,” he said, “you should probably thank your sister. For had she not the inclination to find me, I don’t wish to think about what would’ve happened, either.”

  His lips lifted in a teasing grin, and her stomach fluttered. “Well, sincerely, I thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome, but I must admit to being a little curious as to why you would seek out Wardoor at such a venue. Why not just confront the man about your concerns?”

  She walked farther into the room and could feel him following close on her slippered heels. Her stomach was tied up in knots, and her mind raced with what to say. They had been friends once, and after all that had passed between them, it was the one thing she missed most. And now, even though he’d recently buried Leonora, had become a father again, he’d taken the time out of his busy life to save a woman with whom he was no longer affiliated.

  Isolde sat and met his steady gaze. “I feel I owe you a great debt, and apology, and thanks all at the one time. Even with all the pain your family has suffered these past weeks, you rescued me from myself. For it was my fault, and I take full responsibility for my actions that night. I allowed gossip to cloud my judgment, when I simply should have asked the questions I needed answers to. I should never have gone down to the docks to find them.”

  He sat beside her, and Isolde became aware of just how much Merrick was lacking in clothing and how very close he was. Her mouth dried and she fought to keep her eyes above the line of his shoulders and not devour his chest and bare lower arms.

  “Above all else, there is one thing that I wish to know.”

  Isolde turned a little to face him. “What? I’ll answer anything.”

  “Of what did you suspect Wardoor?”

  Isolde looked over his shoulder, not really focusing on anything other than the hazy memories of her night of regret. What a silly little fool she’d acted and in a way that could’ve cost her life. “Before Leonora passed away, she hinted that I didn’t know Wardoor as well as I thought I did. She never mentioned anything in particular, but it was enough to make me doubt him.”

  Merrick’s troubled gaze made her stomach churn. “Please tell me what you know of his life,” she asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “It is as you feared when you went looking for him. He’s afflicted with the same demons that Leonora was.”

  Isolde had seen it for herself, but hearing it spoken out loud made it real. And because of Wardoor’s affliction, she would call of
f another understanding. Again she would be cast into a scandal not of her making. She bit her lip to stem the threatening tears. “I’m a good person, Merrick. Why do bad things keep happening to me?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. You do not deserve it.”

  Isolde was quiet a moment as she fought to find the words to speak as she must. “His Lordship kissed a man and not just on his lips, but elsewhere. A place that I never imagined proper between two people. And all the while, a woman was busy with his person, too.” That Merrick didn’t seem shocked told her he’d seen it, too. “Leonora had hinted I should not worry about him having a mistress. At least I know now what she meant by that.” She paused. “What are male mistresses called, do you know?”

  Merrick shut his eyes, shaking his head. “It is true what she said, but until I witnessed it for myself the other evening, I had refused to believe it.” He took her hand, and she welcomed the comfort. “I’m so sorry, Isolde.”

  She shrugged, swallowing hard at his heartfelt words. Tears blurred her vision, and she fought to keep her emotions under control. “It seems I’m doomed when it comes to marriage. I feel I cannot trust anyone and have no talent for reading someone’s true nature. And on top of it all, I’m going to be crucified by the ton for breaking off another betrothal. No gentleman will think I’m capable of marriage.”

  “You can trust me,” he stated, forcefully. “And I will not allow anyone to speak ill of you. This is not your fault.”

  Isolde met his gaze and read the sincerity in his eyes. She wanted to believe it to her very core. She wished he stated the truth. And perhaps he did. Maybe it was a simple case that she’d been born under an unlucky star, forever doomed when it came to romance. “Can I trust you? Really?”

  “Yes, you can.” His thumb rubbed against her palm, sending delightful tremors to travel up her arm. The air thickened with long-denied need. “I never meant to betray you. As for Wardoor, I’ll ensure he makes no trouble for you when word breaks of your separation.”