The Illegitimate Duke

by Sophie Barnes

  “I could say the same about you.” She nudged his shoulder a bit with her own in a friendly way that made him turn to her with amusement. She smiled in response. “Thank you for playing with me. It was fun.”

  “You are welcome, my lady. And I agree. It was fun.”

  They reached the steps and started up. A thought occurred to Juliette and she decided to voice it. “Is it not time for you to dispense with the formalities? You have known me for almost a year and have seen me at my worst. Would it not be possible for you to simply call me Juliette?”

  “I am not certain that would be wise.” His voice was tighter than it had been all afternoon.

  “Why?” She was genuinely confused.

  He slowed their pace even further so they were almost standing still, then quietly murmured, “Because doing so would place us on equal footing.”

  She blinked, astounded by what he’d just said. “But you will be duke. Your position as Redding’s heir is already superior to my own.”

  “Only when it comes to social etiquette, but that is not the only aspect I must consider.”

  She turned her head and stared at him blankly. “I do not understand.”

  Unhooking his arm from hers, he clasped his hands behind his back and met her gaze with quiet solemnity. “The point is there are other facets at play, facets that make me unworthy of such familiarity.”

  Overcome by surprise, she laughed. “Surely you jest.” When he remained completely grave, all humor died on her lips. She shook her head with incomprehension. “I grew up in the slums while you were raised by a viscount. All I have done is accept the wealth bestowed upon me by my brother while you have earned the respect of your peers by applying yourself to a noble profession. And now you will soon be a duke, and still you claim that you are not worthy of foregoing the honorific where I am concerned? It makes no sense, Florian. Least of all when I am forever addressing you by your middle name.”

  “Everyone does so. It is the only way to avoid confusing me with my brother.”

  She could only stare at him. “What if I insist on being simply Juliette?”

  “I would advise against it.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was low and measured. “Because it would suggest a level of intimacy that I’m not completely ready for at the moment.” He bowed before her, no doubt oblivious to the shiver his words evoked. “Thank you once again for a pleasant afternoon. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow for the next committee meeting.”

  Leaving her side, Florian went to bid farewell to Gabriella and Raphe as he handed over the battledores and shuttlecock. Raphe escorted him out and Juliette watched their retreating forms until they were out of view, then claimed a vacant chair beside Gabriella. “Well that was enjoyable,” she said with as much joviality as possible. “I did not expect him to be such a skillful player.”

  Gabriella smiled while pouring a fresh glass of lemonade for Juliette. “He has certainly taken a liking to you.”

  Juliette sighed and stretched out her legs. Lord, it was good to relax for a bit. “I don’t know what makes you think so, when he has given no indication of such a thing.”

  Gabriella chuckled. “I dare say you are too involved in the situation to judge it with clarity. If you were to take a step back, however, and see how he interacts with you, you would know what I say is true. He favors your attention, Julie. The only question now is whether or not he’ll allow himself to encourage it.”

  Chapter 14

  After leaving Huntley House the previous day, Florian went straight to St. Agatha’s where he immersed himself in work. He also made some house calls, including a visit to his uncle’s, before returning home. There he discovered another unsigned letter, this time advising him that Armswell needed his help. When Florian arrived at his parents’ home, he found the viscount in dire need of medical attention.

  Thankfully, Florian recognized the symptoms of hemlock poisoning and was able to administer the necessary antidote. But the whole ordeal left him shaken and proved that the person behind the threats intended to act on them without remorse.

  “Who would do this?” his mother demanded. “I cannot imagine any of the servants—”

  “Did you recently hire a new employee?” Florian asked as he packed away his supplies.

  “I . . . um . . .” She blinked. “Armswell hired a new footman about a week ago.”

  “Sack him,” Florian advised. “I think he might be working for someone else.”

  “But—”

  He reached for her hand while meeting her troubled gaze. “Someone wants to hurt me and I think they’re attempting to do so through you, but you mustn’t worry. I’m handling it.”

  Leaving her, he went to meet Henry. “I need your help,” he said and gave a quick account of the threatening letters while Henry listened with increased concern on his face. “Tonight, I believe the person behind it attacked”—he swallowed, forcing the necessary words out—“our father.”

  “Christ, Florian!” Henry’s eyes widened with alarm.

  “He’s all right,” Florian added, “but I worry it’s only the beginning.”

  It took a moment for Henry to relax and for Florian to convince him that hastening over to Armswell House was unnecessary. “Any idea who might be behind it?”

  “No,” Florian said. “Just be careful,” he warned, “and maybe inform the magistrate of what has happened. I would do so myself but I fear it will only make matters worse if the villain finds out that I talked.”

  “Of course.” Henry walked him to the door. “The footman will naturally be interrogated, but if he keeps silent, I’ll launch a separate investigation with the hope of discovering who might stand to gain from St. Giles going under.”

  Florian thanked him for his help and headed back to the hospital to warn Viola.

  When he finally returned home, he grabbed a pistol from his study for safety and a bottle of brandy for his nerves, before heading upstairs to bed. It had been an extremely busy day but it had provided him with a necessary distraction from his thoughts of Lady Juliette and the physical craving such thoughts provoked.

  As it was, she still managed to creep into his mind the moment he laid down to sleep. In spite of his best efforts, he failed to avoid the contemplations his mind was more than eager to provoke, of her body pressed against his, of what it might be like to undress her and how it would feel to slide his hands across every inch of her beautiful perfection.

  Such thoughts took the toll they were destined to take, and he was left with no choice but to let himself succumb to the needy desire that followed. Guilt ensued, fast and swift. The manner in which he degraded her with lascivious imaginings was bad enough, but to actually indulge himself sexually while doing so was beyond reprehensible. He had no right. None whatsoever. And he was keenly aware that this was just one more reason for him to insist he address her formally, because she was a lady and he was anything but a gentleman when it came to her.

  Now seated beside her at his dining room table, Florian conducted the committee meeting with professional aloofness. He kept himself stiff and precise, denying Lady Juliette any chance of excessive familiarity. She’d said they were friends but he knew better. They were balancing along a delicate boundary that threatened to send them both hurtling toward an inevitable need for seduction. Which was something he could not allow. So he’d kept his hands clasped behind his back when she had arrived, lest he inadvertently touch her, and he’d kept all conversation with her as brief as possible, which was easier now that the meeting was underway.

  “Fatalities are rising in St. Giles, Florian,” Lady Warwick was saying. “People are worried that what we are doing isn’t making much of a difference.”

  Florian felt the same, but he wasn’t sure what else they could do besides treat the sick and keep them separate from the rest of the citizens. “The pamphlets that have been distributed and the articles in the new
spapers should put them at ease. As long as they follow the advice on disease prevention, their chances of avoiding infection ought to be good.”

  “It’s not enough,” Baron Hawthorne said. “We need some means by which to reassure the public and prevent the panic I fear might be brewing.”

  “Any suggestions?” Viola asked.

  “Yes.” It was Lady Juliette who spoke. “After you asked us to think of a way to quarantine the sick, I have been trying to educate myself on the disease we face in order to better understand it and treat it.” She paused for a second and Florian held his breath in anticipation of what she was going to say next. “What I have learned is that patients showing symptoms of typhus, or other contagious diseases, and who were admitted to the Edinburgh Infirmary toward the end of the last century, were ordered to surrender their clothes and take a bath. They were then given a clean hospital gown, shaved to remove all manner of vermin from their hair, and rubbed with a mercurial ointment.”

  “St. Agatha’s would do so as well if such patients were brought in, but I am still concerned about the risk,” Florian told her. He was well aware of the practices adapted by the Edinburgh Infirmary since James Gregory himself, the author to which Juliette was referring, had told him all about it, insisting it had prevented him from losing a single patient during the last five years of his practice in the clinical ward.

  “Which is why I propose that we purchase a ship,” Juliette said. Murmured interest hummed through the air.

  Florian tilted his head. “A ship?”

  Juliette nodded. “We ought to be able to afford it after the funds we procured from the charity event.”

  “Well, yes,” Elmwood said, somewhat gruffly. “Especially if we can get our hands on a used East Indiaman. Production on those is relatively cheap. Shouldn’t cost us more than five thousand pounds.”

  “Which is still within our budget,” Clearwater said. He gave Lady Juliette a look that spoke of great admiration. “Quarantining the sick on a ship is an excellent idea. How did you come up with it?”

  A lovely pink shade colored Lady Juliette’s cheeks. “I found a reference to such a method being employed in one of the books in the Huntley House Library. It was written by a maritime surgeon, and although I initially dismissed it, thinking it wouldn’t be helpful, I’m glad I took a closer look. Because in doing so, I learned something useful.” She glanced around. “During the black death, for instance, ships arriving in Venice from infected ports were kept at anchor for forty days before landing. Surrounded by water without access to land, the people on the ships were not able to spread the disease.” She paused before saying, “I believe it ought to be possible for us to contain the spread of typhus in a similar way.”

  Florian watched her as she spoke. The idea was not simply good, it was brilliant. And so simple he wondered why he hadn’t considered this solution himself. Seeing that everyone waited to hear his opinion, he nodded and said, “Well done, my lady. You may have found the perfect solution.”

  She smiled then with pleasure and gratitude so dazzling he felt his heart thump quite wildly against his chest. Christ, she was lovely, and it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t enjoyed anything as much in recent years as the act of making her happy. With that thought in mind, he added, “We will set about finding an appropriate vessel immediately. It will be thoroughly cleaned and prepared before a single patient is brought onboard. Since the Thames is narrow enough to allow a desperate man to swim across, we will have to sail it out to the Channel to ensure proper quarantine can be maintained.”

  “If the majority agrees, I will start working on the specifics immediately,” Viola said.

  Florian nodded. “Let us put it to a vote.” They did so with everyone agreeing to this new proposal.

  The meeting was adjourned with renewed hope, and several members stayed behind to discuss further details over tea and coffee in the parlor. Avoiding the torture of touching Lady Juliette, Florian denied himself the pleasure of escorting her by turning to Viola for a brief exchange. “This can work,” he told her with certainty bubbling through his veins. “We actually stand a chance of minimizing the loss of life.”

  “And all because of Lady Juliette,” Viola said with a smirk. “I bet you’re happy you agreed to let her join the committee after all.”

  “She has a good head on her shoulders.”

  Viola grinned. “A true departure from your previous opinion of her as naïve.”

  Florian cringed at the reminder. “Opinions can change, Viola.”

  “Yes, Florian. They certainly can.”

  Juliette was trying extremely hard to focus on what Yates was saying. And failing miserably. She knew it had something to do with a painting he’d recently acquired, but with her mind occupied by Florian and his distant attitude toward her, she had no idea who the artist was or why Yates was so excited about it.

  “My lady?”

  Juliette blinked. “Hmm?”

  Yates regarded her with a contemplative frown for a moment before offering a smile and saying, “The Vermeer painting I mentioned. It would be an honor to show it to you one day.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Juliette glanced across at Lady Warwick who was deep in conversation with Lord Elmwood, so she would find no help there.

  “Enjoying your company has become my favorite thing,” Yates was saying. “You cannot imagine how pleased I was when I learned you had joined this committee. It allows us to spend more time together while pursuing a common interest. This idea of yours to quarantine the sick on a ship is particularly intriguing. I am rather impressed if you must know.”

  “You flatter me, my lord.”

  “I only speak the truth,” he told her while allowing his eyes to meet hers with alarming confidence. Apparently, her refusal to walk with him after their dance at Hawthorne House had not deterred him.

  Juliette averted her gaze just in time to see Viola entering the parlor with Florian close behind her. The tightening of her chest dulled the beat of her heart until Viola went to join Lady Warwick and Elmwood while Florian continued toward the row of mullioned windows spanning the length of the room. He stood there looking out with his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

  “Please excuse me,” Juliette told Yates. “There is something I need to discuss with Florian.”

  She wasn’t sure what, but she did not wish to encourage Yates further and she also knew keeping her distance from Florian would be impossible. He drew her so powerfully she might as well go to him rather than make an attempt to fight it.

  “Do you wish to be alone?” she asked once she’d crossed the room to stand beside him. Outside, the sunshine played upon the dense foliage of rhododendron leaves, creating an endless array of luminescent greens.

  Florian dropped a glance in her direction before resuming his perusal of the garden. “Not if you are offering to keep me company.”

  The pressure around Juliette’s heart eased. She drew a breath and savored the lightness now filling her body. Behind her, the conversations taking place faded until she felt she’d been spirited away to a private location where only she and Florian existed.

  “I was starting to worry I might have done something to upset you,” she said. “You’ve hardly spoken to me since I arrived.”

  A rumble rose from deep within his chest. “My dark mood has nothing to do with you. I simply have a lot of concerns.”

  “I know you do, which is part of the reason why I’ve been trying so hard to help.”

  “For which I am grateful.”

  “I’m just not sure if charity events and donations will be enough in the long run.” It was a thought she’d been toying with for the past couple of days. “Ensuring a steady income would probably be better.”

  “You’re right.” He met her gaze. “Any ideas on how to accomplish that without charging the patients?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, but I will think on it.”

  Silence settled between them, and th
en with deep contemplation, he said, “Saving lives is a never-ending struggle against the evils of the world. The things I have seen have changed me in ways I am not always fond of. When I began my apprenticeship, I was sixteen years old and used to a life of leisure and luxury. Seeing a boy my own age lose a limb that first day was shocking. I confess I fled the operating room to cast up my accounts.”

  “And the boy?”

  “He died three days later from infection.” Florian’s voice was strained with emotion. “I made it my purpose then and there to discover the best methods of medical treatment and surgery. Forced to complete my apprenticeship in order to be admitted into Oxford, I dedicated my free time to reading medical texts and interviewing not only other physicians, but anyone I could find who had traveled abroad and born witness to successful surgeries.”

  “I cannot be anything but impressed by your determination at such a young age.”

  He shifted, causing his arm to brush against hers. Skin pricking with awareness, Juliette fought the urge to move closer—the urge to experience his touch once again. “It was not unlike your own. This compulsion you have to do good is very similar to mine. I understand it completely.”

  She struggled against the flutter of nerves the intimacy of his voice provoked. “Would you be willing to teach me what you have learned?”

  He held her gaze, and although he failed to smile, his expression was warm and inviting. It animated his eyes and did curious things to Juliette’s body. Her knees grew weak while sizzling embers crept over her skin. “Will you allow me to think on it for a while before I make a commitment?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  The parlor door opened and Florian’s servant entered. Without breaking his stride he crossed the floor and addressed his master in a murmur so muted it was impossible for Juliette to hear what he was saying despite her proximity. Whatever it was, however, caused Florian’s features to set in rigid planes of severity. He thanked the man, exchanged a brief glance with Juliette, and turned to address the room as a whole.