Why Dukes Say I Do

by Manda Collins

  “In case you went mad like your mother did after you gave birth?” Trevor asked, not turning away from the window.

  “Yes,” Isabella said. “I will do whatever you wish, Trevor. I will consent to an annulment or I will return to London. Whatever you wish to do.”

  He turned from the window to stare at her. “I do not want an annulment. I have already said that marrying you was a matter of honor and I meant it. You will be no less compromised by me if we annul the marriage.”

  She tried to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. “All right,” she said.

  “Whoever sent that package knew about your mother,” Trevor said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Isabella nodded, and moved slightly back so he would have room. “Yes, they had to have known the story.”

  Turning onto his side to lie facing her, Trevor watched her, his gaze intent. “Then we need to determine who might have known. Have you told anyone other than Wharton?”

  “Only Perdita,” she said, watching Trevor with wary eyes as he reached out to her. “What are you doing?” she demanded, no longer concentrating on the mystery of who was trying to frighten her.

  “I am comforting my wife,” Trevor said, pulling her against him again.

  “I thought you were angry with me,” she said, unable to resist the lure of his comforting arms.

  “Not with you,” he said, leaning back so that he could look her in the eye. “With Wharton. For what he did to you. Your child.”

  The tears came, and this time Isabella allowed them to run down her face unchecked. “You are such a good man,” she said, lifting a hand up to caress his cheek. “I should have known you’d react to the tale by reiterating your reasons for marrying me in the first place.”

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. “You have had little enough experience with decent men,” he said. “I hope that you will begin to expect goodness rather than dishonor. Not all men are as your father and your husband were.”

  “Once we find the person who is trying to frighten me,” she said, tucking her head under Trevor’s chin, “perhaps then I will be able to expect more from the men around me.”

  “And in the meantime,” Trevor said, kissing her, “I will endeavor to raise your expectations on my own.”

  Seventeen

  “You know that I’ll do whatever you need me to while you’re gone,” Lucien said, his affable countenance tight with unaccustomed gravity.

  Trevor had ridden over to the other man’s estate as soon as he awakened. Long after Isabella had fallen into a restless sleep, Trevor had lain awake pondering what his next move must be in the cat-and-mouse game that her mysterious correspondent was playing. Trevor had little doubt that while he and Isabella were in Yorkshire whoever the person was would continue to become more and more dangerous. Though there were not as many people in the countryside as there were in London, the sheer vastness of the moors made it easy for whoever this was to remain hidden. Not long before he’d thrown off the bedclothes and dressed for the day, Trevor had decided that what might be called for was a change of scenery. Clearly this bastard had little enough trouble terrorizing Isabella at Nettlefield. Perhaps a return to London, where the incident that had set all of this chaos in motion had occurred, would bring matters to a head.

  “I know you will,” Trevor said to Lucien. “Though I do apologize it comes so close on the heels of our trip to Scotland.” He smiled despite his somber mood. “I had not thought to turn you into a nursemaid.”

  “You are a font of hilarity,” Lucien said with a scowl. “You needn’t worry about me, however. That Miss Nightingale of yours is as efficient as any I’ve seen.”

  “That she is,” Trevor agreed. “And I don’t mind telling you how relieved I am to finally have a governess for my sisters who spends more time thinking of them than she does of me.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Lucien continued, turning the conversation firmly back to Trevor’s problem, “I think you’re doing the right thing. I’m just as fond of the countryside as you are, but there is something very unprotected about it. There’s nowhere to hide. And for all that this fellow might be able to blend into the crowd better in London, I have little doubt that Ormonde House is like a bloody fortress.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Trevor said. “Here I feel like we’re simply waiting for him to make the next move. And security is hardly something that I’ve spent a great deal of time emphasizing at Nettlefield. There’s never been a need for it. But Ormonde House is as tight as a tick.”

  “You speak of it as if you’ve been there,” Lucien remarked, his face impassive but his eyes revealing his suspicions.

  Trevor shrugged. “I might have paid a visit to it on a trip to London once or twice. Though I made damned sure to keep it a secret from my family there.”

  “While your father was alive?” Lucien asked, brows raised. “I cannot imagine that he would have been pleased by that.”

  “God no,” Trevor said with a grin. “He would have skinned me alive.

  “But,” he continued, “there was a time, not too long after he died, that I found myself curious about what it was he’d been cut out of. I have to admit to being astonished by the sheer power of the place. It’s huge, Lucien. It rivals St. James Palace in size. And I have little doubt that the dowager rules over all of it with an iron fist.”

  “What do you think she’ll do when you descend upon her, wed to the woman she sent to lure you back, and seeking shelter from a madman?”

  Trevor was blunt. “I don’t give a hang what she’ll do. It’s my house, and though I know it’s been her greatest wish that I go to London and allow her to turn me into her pawn, she’s going to be greatly disappointed to find that I haven’t the first intention of allowing that to happen.”

  “That’s the spirit, old boy.” Lucien grinned. “Just don’t be surprised if she proves to be reluctant to go quietly.”

  “I have little doubt that she’ll fight me at every turn.” Trevor grinned back. “But if she pushes me too far, I’ll simply have her installed in the dower house. It is my prerogative as the duke, after all.”

  His grandmother, he thought, should have been careful what she wished for.

  * * *

  “So soon? But what about your sisters?” Isabella demanded once Trevor had finished telling her of his plan. “I thought you weren’t planning to leave for another week at the earliest. And surely London will be a much easier place for this person to escape detection.”

  “My sisters will be well looked after by Miss Nightingale and Lucien,” Trevor said, taking her hand in his. They were in the morning room that Isabella had taken as her personal study. He had leaned back against the mantle while he explained the gist of his plan, but as soon as Isabella began her objections he’d taken the seat next to her on the settee. Once she’d have felt crowded by his closeness, but now she only felt comforted by his presence.

  “And I see no reason for us to delay our departure,” he continued. “It seems arbitrary to wait simply for the sake of waiting.”

  Isabella bit back a sigh. She supposed he was right. It was a surprise to her just how quickly she, who had spent her entire life in the city, could become accustomed to the slower pace of country life. She missed London, of course, but she would miss Nettlefield when they left it. “You don’t think we should bring Eleanor and Belinda with us?” she asked. “I should like to show them the sights. I think Belinda would adore it.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the back of Isabella’s hand. “Not this time, my dear. For one thing, if the dowager proves to be more of a handful than I expect then I don’t wish for them to be caught in the cross fire. I have yet to meet her in person, but from what you’ve told me, she can be quite ruthless. And I do not wish for them to be harmed.”

  “I wish there were something I could do,” Isabella said, standing up and pacing the small space between the settee and the fireplace. “It is infuriating to know that this per
son knows so much about me, but I know so little about them.”

  “We will fix that,” Trevor said, his blue eyes focused on her face. “I promise you that once we are safely ensconced in the Ormonde town house I will make it impossible for this bastard to get to you. And I will find out who they are.”

  But Isabella had difficulty believing him. “Have you even been to London before?”

  If he was stung by her question, he didn’t show it. “As a matter of fact, I have. It’s true that I am not acquainted with my family there, but I spent a little time there when I was at university. I went home with school friends and even attended a few ton functions.”

  Isabella tried and failed to hide her surprise. “But you made it sound as if … I had assumed that—”

  “I know what you assumed,” he said with a slight smile. “And I might have allowed you to think it without correcting your misapprehension. Especially when you first arrived at Nettlefield. But the fact remains that I am quite familiar with London and I am not entirely ignorant about Ormonde House. I have, after all, been corresponding with the duke’s—I suppose my—personal secretary about the place for the past year or so.”

  “I did know that, actually,” she said with a sharp nod. “But it sounds as if you have no need of me for this trip at all,” she said, knowing she sounded hurt and frustrated but unable to keep her emotions from her voice.

  But before she could say more, Trevor was up and at her side. “I need you because you are my wife,” he said, slipping his arms around her. “Surely the fact that I’ve been handling the Ormonde estate business doesn’t erase the fact that you know the dowager and all the rest of the Ormonde family far better than I do. And I didn’t marry you because you are some sort of golden ticket that will open the doors of London society for me.”

  “No, you married me to preserve my reputation,” she said with a frown. “And because you needed someone to help you with your sisters.”

  She focused on the knot of his cravat. She had been married for all those years to Ralph, who had tormented her in every possible way, but she’d never felt as vulnerable with him as she did now with Trevor. If this was what it meant to give your he— She stopped herself before she could complete the thought. Better not to travel down that road.

  “I married you,” Trevor said, bending his knees so that he could look into her downcast eyes, “because I wished to. Not because either of our reputations was compromised. And certainly not just to have someone around who could deal with my sisters. Though I will admit that to be an added bonus.

  “Come now,” he continued, lifting her chin with his finger and kissing her. “Are you going to come with me to London so that we can rout the dowager and catch this person who is hell-bent on terrifying you?” He said the last with a crooked grin.

  Isabella shook her head. It was impossible to stay away from this man. Especially when he was at his charming best. Damn him.

  “You are absurd,” she said, unable to stop the smile from turning up the corners of her mouth. “I will come with you to London. But you must know that I will want to be as involved as possible when we capture this fellow.”

  “Absolutely,” Trevor said with a smile. “I’ll need someone to hide behind, after all.”

  Isabella couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  * * *

  The trip from Yorkshire to London took four days. Because they were traveling without the girls, Trevor made the decision to go as fast as they could given the circumstances. The dowager’s carriage, which had finally been repaired, was following behind Trevor and Isabella’s vehicle and carried their baggage and Isabella’s maid.

  He chose not to send a letter ahead of them informing his grandmother of their impending arrival. Surprise was, after all, a tactical advantage, and he was damned if he’d give it up just to make her more comfortable. They stayed at an inn just outside of London on the night before they descended upon Ormonde House. And as he made love to Isabella that night he couldn’t help but feel that tomorrow might bring changes to their relationship that he wasn’t able to foresee. For all that he felt he knew what sort of person she was at her core, there were still aspects of her personality and past that he had yet to learn. And despite what she’d told him about the night his cousin had died, he knew in his gut that there was more to the story than she was telling him.

  As the carriage rolled to a stop outside the door of Ormonde House, he pulled her close for a kiss. “Head high,” he told her. “We must approach her as a team, or she’ll try to play us against each other.”

  He was not surprised to see Isabella raise one dark brow. “Are you sure you’ve never met your grandmother before?” she asked. “Because that’s just what she’s going to try to do. And I was about to warn you of the fact.”

  “I know how manipulative women work,” he said with a shrug. “You’ve met the ladies of Nettledean, haven’t you?”

  She grinned and allowed him to hand her down from the carriage.

  Pulling her to his side, Trevor straightened his hat and offered his wife his arm. When they reached the top of the steps, the door opened to reveal the dour-faced butler, Timms. “Lady Wharton,” he said, inclining his head. “Whom may I say accompanies you?”

  Not letting her respond, Trevor handed the fellow his hat and gloves. “The Duke of Ormonde.”

  If the man was surprised by the announcement, he didn’t show it. He merely handed Trevor’s things to a waiting footman, who betrayed his surprise only by a slight widening of his eyes. The servants were well trained, at least, Trevor thought.

  “Very good, Your Grace,” Timms said, his stoic expression revealing nothing. “May I say how good it is to welcome you to Ormonde House? We have kept your rooms ready in the event of just such a happy occasion.”

  “Excellent. And I trust that you will ensure that my wife’s rooms will be made ready as well,” Trevor told the man, taking Isabella’s hand in his own, lest the butler assume he had some other wife waiting in the wings.

  “Of course,” the butler said, inclining his head at another footman. “I’ll have word sent to Mrs. Timms at once.”

  He turned his attention to Isabella. “May I be so forward as to wish you happy, Lady … that is, Your Grace?”

  “Of course, Timms,” Isabella said with a smile. “I thank you. Now, can you tell us if the dowager is at home this afternoon?”

  “She is indeed, Your Grace,” the older man said with a smile. If Trevor wasn’t mistaken, the old fellow looked positively gleeful. In as reserved and restrained a manner as possible, of course. “Shall I have tea sent up to her sitting room?”

  Isabella turned to Trevor. “What do you think, darling? Shall we go up?” Trevor knew that what she was really asking was a tactical question. Would they go to the dowager in her own territory, or would they choose some neutral location for their first meeting?

  Deciding to let her make the decision, he shrugged. “It’s up to you, my dear.”

  She nodded. “Then we’ll have the tea tray in the duchess’s sitting room, Timms.”

  “I trust you’ll be able to find your way to the sitting room, Your Grace?”

  “Of course,” she said. Then, before he could walk away, she asked, “Timms, can you tell me if the young dowager is in this afternoon?”

  “I believe she has gone to pay afternoon calls, Your Grace,” Timms said. “But I feel sure that she will be quite pleased to learn of your return.”

  Trevor watched as Isabella stared after the departing butler for a moment. If the man thought it odd that the sister of the previous mistress of the house had now taken her place, he didn’t say it. If Trevor read the situation aright, he would say that the old man was fond of both of them. And not fond of the dowager. Yet another ally, he thought to himself.

  “Shall we go up?” Isabella asked him, linking her arm in his. “I must confess that I’m quite famished. Cook makes the most delicious little cakes. I think you’ll like them.”

>   Somewhat bemused by the entire situation, Trevor allowed himself to be led up the stairs and toward the family rooms.

  Eighteen

  “What is the meaning of this?” the Dowager Duchess of Ormonde asked, stepping into the sitting room that had once been hers. The new duchess was pleased to see that the knowledge smarted for her godmother, though Isabella did feel a pang of guilt over it. She had chosen to have the dowager’s first meeting with Trevor in these rooms because it had been one of the things she most resented when Perdita married Gervase. Now the dowager would be annoyed by the fact that they’d been passed on to Isabella. Be careful what you wish for, Isabella thought.”You cannot simply order me about like a servant.”

  “I hardly call issuing an invitation to tea the equivalent of ordering you about,” Trevor said, rising from his position next to Isabella on the sofa. “And you are hardly the one to complain about being ordered about. I believe it was not so very long ago that you sent Isabella up to Yorkshire to fetch me to London like a recalcitrant schoolboy.”

  “Hmmph,” the dowager retorted, lowering herself to the chair on the other side of the tea table with some difficulty. “It was high time for you to take up your duties as the duke. What nonsense for you to bury yourself away in Yorkshire holding on to a grudge that wasn’t even yours to begin with. I was merely reminding you that your duty is to the family.”

  If Trevor was expecting to be welcomed with open arms by his grandmother, Isabella thought, he was to be sorely disappointed. Her godmother had never been a demonstrative person, but now faced with the very situation she’d done her utmost to make happen she was still positively glacial.

  “And I thought it was to my family that I was showing loyalty by refusing to come to heel,” Trevor said, resuming his seat. “But that’s neither here nor there. I am here now and quite ready to take up the duties of the dukedom.”

  “Excellent,” the dowager said with a nod. Not even pausing to take a breath, she went on, “I have a list of excellent ladies who will make the perfect duchess for you. I believe that Lady Marianna—”