Taming the Duke

by Jackie Manning

  His vibrant blue eyes held her like a sweet caress. “I’d do anything for you, Alicia.”

  She fought to catch her breath. If only things could stay like this between them. When they were alone together, without the outside world beckoning, she felt such a part of him. But soon reality would come crashing in and…She refused to think of that now.

  “Good,” he said. “We’ll begin Jupiter’s training tomorrow. I’ll start by clocking him for the quarter mile. We’ll see what he can do.”

  She felt a warm glow at the thought of working with Dalton. Living at Havencrest, sharing her passion for horses with the man she loved was her idea of heaven on earth.

  The next morning, Alicia entered the breakfast parlor to find Dalton waiting for her. Instead of the usual formal buffet, a small table and two chairs had been set up in front of the fireplace. She glanced around to find that they were alone—not a servant in sight.

  Dalton smiled in response to her surprise. “I told the maids that we’d serve ourselves. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not, but why?”

  He lifted a silver lid from one of the plates, then he pulled out her chair for her. “I wanted to enjoy our anniversary breakfast with just the two of us.”

  A shivery feeling rippled through her. “Our anniversary?” she asked, never expecting that he would remember it had been four weeks since they’d exchanged marriage vows.

  “One month to the day. I’ve invited Olivia and Robert for the weekend, as well as your family to share in a small celebration. Although you haven’t mentioned it, I thought you might be homesick to see your parents and sisters.”

  “How thoughtful, Dalton. Yes, I’m very pleased.”

  After they had finished eating, Dalton pulled a long narrow velvet box from his jacket pocket and placed it alongside her plate. “I have a small token for you to mark the occasion.”

  “Dalton, I don’t know what to say.” She sat, then watched him pull up a chair beside her. “I—I’m afraid I don’t have a gift for you.”

  He gave her a tender smile. “Having you as my bride is my greatest gift, sweet one.” He kissed her fingers, the touch of his lips searing her skin.

  Her throat felt tight with longing. He spoke the honeyed words she wanted to hear. If only he meant them.

  Her gaze dropped to the dark-blue velvet box, and she lifted the lid. Inside, lay a gold chain with a medallion at the end—the initial R. Puzzled, she fingered the gold letter. The chain was too short to be a necklace. She wrapped the gold coil around her wrist several times. Too long to be a bracelet. Perplexed, she looked at him.

  His eyes sparkled with teasing glints. “Give up?” he asked, finally.

  She laughed. “Dalton, the jewelry is beautifully crafted, but what is it?” She examined the medallion. “What does the R stand for?”

  “I’ll give you one hint. The R stands for Rufus.”

  “Rufus?” She rolled her eyes. “Explain yourself this instant!” Her laughter joined his.

  “Very well,” he said, “but you’ll have to come with me to find out more, and bring the trinket.” He caught her hand and pulled her, laughing, from the room.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the paddock. The rain-clean air was filled with smells of rich earth and lemon lillies. Alicia noticed that Bashshar and Jupiter were already saddled and waiting. She glanced over her shoulder at Dalton. “What have the horses to do with my present?”

  He chuckled. “Patience, my love. You’ll see.”

  More curious than she cared to admit, she noticed that neither horse was equipped with a sidesaddle. “Dalton, what will the servants think if they see me riding astride?”

  “They know they’ll be strung up by their eyeteeth if they dare say anything.” His playful mood was contagious. “Actually, I thought you might enjoy a race. I’m amazed at the speed Jupiter has shown lately. I think he might almost be as fast as Bashshar.”

  “Very well,” she said, enjoying this fun-loving side to her husband that she’d rarely seen before. Hooking the gold chain to the saddle, she asked, “Which path shall we take?”

  “We’ll ride across the open fields to the gamekeeper’s cottage.” Dalton pointed to the gently rolling hills in the distance. “The terrain and distance are similar to the grassy track at Newmarket.”

  Dalton gave her a hand up, while Alicia put her foot in the stirrup, and swung her leg over Bashshar’s back. She carefully folded her full skirt to cover her legs. The stallion pricked his ears and eyed the other horse nervously. “Easy, boy,” she said, rubbing Bashshar’s powerful neck.

  Dalton climbed onto Jupiter’s saddle and wheeled the horse in the direction of the gamekeeper’s cottage. Alicia trotted Bashshar a safe distance from Jupiter, then waited for a signal from Dalton.

  Bashshar quivered with excitement, as though he sensed the competition. When Dalton gave the signal to begin, Alicia urged the black stallion into the match. With smooth strides, Bashshar’s long legs ate up the ground beneath them.

  Cool damp wind whipped back Alicia’s hair as Bashshar took a commanding early lead. The sound of creaking leather and thundering hooves resonated her senses as the superior animal beneath her exploded with energy and drive. Fence posts and hedgerows whizzed past them as Bashshar surged ahead, holding the lead with little struggle. Minutes later as they raced around the bend, the gamekeeper’s cottage rose into view. Alicia stole a glance over her shoulder at Dalton. He and Jupiter were several lengths behind, and she was filled with the pride of victory. It was more than winning a race. Bashshar had the makings of a class champion.

  She was out of breath by the time she dismounted, grabbed the gold chain and waited for Dalton. When he finally rode Jupiter to the fence and dismounted, she could read the mixed emotion on her husband’s face.

  “Bashshar’s speed has never been faster,” he exclaimed, patting the stallion’s glistening back. “But I really thought Jupiter would perform better.”

  She couldn’t help but feel pleased that Dalton took such an interest in Jupiter. “He’s still young,” she said, hoping to offset his disappointment. “Let’s race back, and this time you ride Bashshar.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Ah, but first, you must see your present.”

  She glanced at the gold chain dangling from her fingers. “I must admit, I’m extremely curious. Where have you hidden it?”

  “Inside the cottage.” Dalton opened the white picket gate for her. She gave him a quizzical look, then strode toward the front door. Pink honeysuckle climbed beside the window.

  Her hand barely touched the knob when a huge grey wolf sprang at her from inside the window. Alicia fell back into Dalton’s arms. His rich laughter filled the air. She stared at the hairy giant barking at them, then her heart skipped with joy.

  “An Irish wolfhound!” She pushed open the door and the pup jumped up, propping its huge front paws on her shoulders. A wet tongue licked her face. If she hadn’t braced herself against Dalton, the dog would have knocked her to the ground.

  Dalton pointed at the dog. “Get down, Rufus.” Obediently, the wolfhound dropped to the floor.

  “Dalton, he’s only a puppy,” Alicia said, kneeling beside the animal. She scratched his wiry forehead. Rufus’s tail thumped loudly on the rug.

  “He’s nine months old. The gamekeeper has been training him, and the pup knows better than to jump on people.” Dalton couldn’t keep his face straight as he leaned over and feined a scowl at the dog. Rufus barked, then licked Dalton’s face.

  Alicia couldn’t help but laugh. “Come, Rufus. Let me see how your new collar fits.” The wolfhound’s teeth caught the edge of Dalton’s cuff and tugged playfully before releasing his hold.

  Dalton laughter was warm and rich. “Perhaps Rufus only obeys the gamekeeper.”

  Alicia snapped her fingers and the wolfhound loped immediately to her side. She slipped the chain around the dog’s ruff. “A perfect fit,” she said, ducking out o
f the way of Rufus’s expressive kisses.

  “He’ll need a bigger collar in a few months,” Dalton said, moving to the door. “He’s only halfgrown, I’m afraid.”

  Rufus sat, tongue flopping, as Alicia stroked the dog’s chest. She was filled with delight. Her husband was one of the wealthiest men in the realm, a man who could afford to give her anything she would want—and he did. “Oh, Dalton, there’s nothing you could have given me that I would love more,” she said. “How did you know I love Irish wolfhounds?”

  “I don’t think there’s a puppy you wouldn’t love,” he said with a laugh. Then his smile faded. “Wolfhounds are intelligent, even-tempered. Loyal.” His voice lowered. “Rufus will be good protection.”

  Her fingers stilled, and she suddenly understood. Dalton was worried that someone might repeat the attempt to shoot Bashshar. A dog would provide warning if a stranger dared approach. “You’re afraid that whoever shot at us might try again?”

  He looked away, his dark and rugged profile contrasted sharply against the sunny window filled with the scent of honeysuckle. “Alicia, I’ll not lie to you.” He turned and looked directly at her. “I don’t know if the shooter will strike again, but if he does, we must be ready. Inspector Leary will be arriving from London sometime today. I’d like you to join us when he gives his report.”

  Her fingers toyed with Rufus’s collar. “Of course,” she said, her tone equally serious. “Did you write him of the latest shooting incident?”

  “Yes, and he believes we should take every precaution.”

  “Such as?”

  “It might be best if you let someone know where you are at all times.”

  Her hand rose to her throat. “But surely I’m not in peril.”

  “We don’t know for certain who is the target. If it’s Bashshar, you’re with the stallion more than I. I don’t want you endangered.”

  A sudden thought crossed her mind. “Oh dear, then Penn and Ulger—”

  “I doubt if they’re in jeopardy. Unless the shooter changes the routine, he’s only struck when Bashshar is away from the stables. Perhaps he’s afraid he’d be too easily spotted by the servants.”

  “Unless, of course, the shooter is one of the servants.” She surprised herself with her words. Dalton’s expression didn’t change and she realized that the idea wasn’t new to him. She felt a sudden chill despite the warm September morning.

  “Almost all the present staff have been born into service at Havencrest,” he said as though sensing her worry. His mouth tilted with a wry grin as he patted the dog’s neck. She noticed how deeply tanned and masculine his strong hands looked against the dog’s silver-gray fur. “I’d like to believe the servants are loyal.”

  Dalton was so proud—he would be devastated if one of his staff proved to be involved in a plot to harm Bashshar. “I’m sure they’re loyal, Dalton.” How she wanted to say or do something to comfort him, yet there was little she could do. She rose to her feet and brushed at her skirts. “If Inspector Leary is arriving soon, perhaps we should return to the manor.”

  “Hmm, we probably should.”

  Alicia barely touched the doorknob when Rufus rushed to her side. “Do you think Rufus will follow us back to the manor?” she asked.

  “He’ll probably race ahead and be waiting for us at the stable,” he answered dryly. “The kitchen door, more likely. The gamekeeper said the dog will eat us out of house and home.”

  She chuckled, glad that his good humor had returned.

  Outside, Jupiter gave a nervous whinny when Alicia mounted the horse. Uneasy, she glanced along the stand of oaks and coppery beeches that bordered the rear of the cottage. Although she saw nothing unusual, the hair at the back of her neck prickled. She felt as though someone were watching them.

  She gave herself a mental shake at her foolishness. She and Dalton were a safe distance from any dense thicket that might conceal an armed man. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. Of course they were safe.

  Dalton swiveled Bashshar in a tight circle, then reined sharply to move beside her mount. When she nodded the signal, both stallions leaped forward, hooves pounding against the soft earth. Beneath her, Jupiter’s muscles clenched and flexed, the animal easily taking the lead. She leaned forward in a crouch as rider and horse became one.

  Rufus’s barking confirmed that the wolfhound was keeping up. She dared not lose concentration with a glance over her shoulder. Wind tore at her face as memories of her dream of Jupiter becoming one of England’s most notable racing stallions flashed through her mind. Now, she realized, that hope—thanks to Dalton—might come true. Although younger and less experienced, Jupiter possessed a winning spirit. She felt a renewed sense of pride. In time, Jupiter would be prove himself a winning champion.

  As both horses rounded the last field, Bashshar gained speed. Alicia pressed her horse forward, and he took a slight lead. She felt exhilarated and flushed with excitement when both horses rode to a pounding finish. She and her mount thundered past the gatepost only seconds before Dalton and the black stallion.

  Alicia shouted with sheer joy. “I won because I’m not as heavy as you,” she offered as an excuse a few minutes later when they dismounted. “With a lighter jockey, Bashshar would have won easily.”

  He gave her a dazzling smile that showed he was as pleased as if Bashshar had won. “Weight is a factor, but—” he glanced at Jupiter, who was barely breathing hard “—it’s possible that due to Bashshar’s traumatic experience, he’ll only win if you’re his rider.”

  She had never considered it before, but what he said might be true. As they walked back to the paddock, what Dalton said about Bashshar only winning if she were riding him was intriguing.

  “I’m very pleased with Jupiter’s time,” Dalton was saying, but she was only half listening as she led Jupiter along the trail.

  What if she were to ride Bashshar in the Newmarket Classic? Intriguing idea, indeed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rufus was close on her heels when Alicia strode into the library, a few hours later, to finish her letter to Kimbra. She stopped at the writing desk in the corner and took a seat. Picking up the quill, she hesitated before dipping the nub into the inkpot.

  In front of her was the half-written letter to her sister, and she remembered the question Kimbra had asked on the eve of Alicia’s wedding. Do you want to marry the duke?

  She blushed, realizing how naive she’d been when assuring Kimbra that marriage to Dalton would be bearable. Her pulse pounded just thinking about him.

  How would she have ever guessed that sharing a quiet evening together was so exciting? Whether he was reading a book or she was seated with her watercolors, they were always aware of each other. This part of their arrangement was more enjoyable than she could have ever imagined.

  She loved his teasing remarks and smouldering glances. In fact, she had no idea married people behaved in such a manner.

  She put down the pen and scratched Rufus behind the ear. Certainly her parents never had! Her blush deepened at the thought. Perhaps when her mother and father were young and first married…? Were they so different from she and Dalton?

  At the time, she had answered her sister truthfully, but little did Alicia know what magnificent pleasures awaited her. What followed when she and Dalton went to bed was more than marvelous. He was an incredible lover, and he’d taught her to relax and enjoy the sensuous delights that went on between them.

  She leaned on her elbow and stared into the fire. Of course, Dalton had had many mistresses before marriage—women more beautiful and experienced than she. Compared to the others, he must find her dull in comparison, although Dalton’s innate sense of kindness would never allow his displeasure to show.

  No doubt he’d been a passionate lover with the other women in his life. Dalton knew how to handle women. Her good mood faded as the realization dawned on her: Dalton was a gentleman, and until she bore his heir, he would do everything to make her enjoy the
ir lovemaking. And in return, she must accept the limitation of their arrangement and behave accordingly. She bit down on her lip.

  No more responding to him like a besotted young girl, wildly in love with romantic notions. She’d be warm and generous to his demands…

  Whose demands? Her cheeks warmed with the truth. She met his passion equally, and found herself almost insatiable for him.

  Alicia folded the unfinished letter in the desk drawer. She would finish Kimbra’s note later.

  She moved to the window, the afternoon sun casting dappled shadows through the trees, and she couldn’t help wonder if she’d be at Havencrest or Marston Heath next autumn.

  The thought gave her a start. If she became with child, she was determined to leave without a whimper. He would be free to return to his former life, and she’d show him no tears. Dalton was an honorable man who never pretended to love her. Somehow, she’d find it in her heart to honor their agreement….

  Rufus barked before Alicia heard the rap at the door. She glanced up to see Dalton entering the room. The smile he gave her was especially appealing. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Dalton’s appreciative gaze swept over her new gown of jade watered silk. “As ravishing as you look, my dear, it is I who am disturbed, in a most disconcerting way.” He chuckled, and his husky voice drew a flutter deep in her belly.

  She smiled back at him, her cheeks warmed more from pleasure than shyness.

  “A courier just arrived with a letter.” Dalton’s teasing smile told her it was no ordinary letter. He pulled a creased white envelope from the leather courier bag. “It’s from Justin.”

  “Justin!” She was surprised how elated she felt to hear from him again. “Where is he?”

  Dalton unfolded several sheets of paper. “He’s in London at the moment. He’s planning to join Wellington’s army in Portugal.” His gaze scanned the first page. “He says that he won’t have time to see us at Havencrest before he leaves.” He grinned. “Let me read you this passage: