The Duke of Her Desire: Diamonds in the Rough

by Sophie Barnes

  The harsh words struck her like a whiplash licking at her chest. Still, she refused to cower. “I see your point,” she said with a calmness she’d thought had long since deserted her. “But now it is time for you to see mine.”

  “By all means. Convince me that coming here as you did was not the most reckless thing in the world.”

  Steeling herself, she met his gaze. “It seemed like the most appropriate place for me to meet with Mr. Gorrell.”

  “And why is that?” he asked with a sigh of exasperation while raising his eyes to the ceiling.

  “Because it made it easier for us to discuss this building.” She drew a deep breath and then added, “I am in the process of purchasing it from Mr. Gorrell.”

  Surprise flooded his features, filling Amelia with a sense of victory for as long as it took him to digest what she’d said. It dwindled as soon as he’d grown accustomed to the idea and chose to ask her, “For how much?”

  “I don’t see why that might be relevant.”

  The vein next to his eye began twitching again. He clenched his jaw, and Amelia instinctively took a step back. “Mr. Gorrell’s services do not come cheap. He is in fact quite likely to fleece his clients unless they know how to handle him. So if I were to imagine how your negotiations went, I would suppose he mentioned a reasonable price that you then accepted. Later, he probably told you there was another interested party who wished to offer more. My question to you is whether or not you’ve agreed to pay the final asking price.”

  Since her heart had dropped to her feet, Amelia could no longer feel it beating inside her chest. Instead, she felt hollow inside. She’d been conned. Dear God, how could she not have seen it? Her eagerness to finalize the purchase had made her stupid, and now, Coventry was about to realize just how foolish she’d truly been.

  Oh, if only her mind had not been filled with ideas of helping people. But she was who she was, and now that she could afford it, she wanted to make a difference in the world. Except there was little chance of that happening if she continued to be blinded by her ultimate goal. And now . . . Her throat worked against the awful threat of hot tears. No! She would not be reduced to a weeping female. Not as long as Coventry was watching. Hell, she’d rather die than let that happen.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  Bracing herself against the critical stare that was sure to follow, Amelia raised her chin and told him plainly, “I’ve paid three thousand for it.”

  Contemplation kept him silent for a couple of seconds before he spoke again. “Considering the size and state it is in along with the location, three thousand is not as bad as I had feared. In fact, I might have invested that sum myself had I known the house was on the market.”

  “That is not the full sum.”

  His brow knit in a frown, his shoulders bunching slightly as he leaned toward her. “Then what is it?”

  Focusing on a point to his right, she forced out the words that had to be said. “You were right. Mr. Gorrell did precisely as you have described. He asked for three thousand, which I brought with me today.”

  “I won’t even begin to wonder at how you procured such a large sum.”

  “Huntley gave it to me.” Coventry’s mouth dropped open. He clearly hadn’t expected this. “It is an advance on my allowance.”

  “So then your brother . . .” He shook his head before leveling her with a frank stare. “Huntley knows about all of this?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” Unfortunately, she failed to keep her voice level.

  Coventry was quick to notice. “And what manner would that be?” he asked while raising an eyebrow.

  Knowing she’d probably already lost whatever respect he had for her, Amelia blew out a breath and confessed. “He knows I came across an investment opportunity—one that would likely be gone by the time he returns from Paris.”

  “He never said a word of it to me.”

  “Perhaps because he and I didn’t speak of it until the day before he was leaving? It was all quite hectic amid the packing. You know, he did try to convince me to wait, but when I told him how serious I am about this venture and how certain I am of its profitability, he allowed me to pursue it since I will be spending my own money and the only person who stands to lose is me.”

  “Then why sneak about?” Coventry asked. “If your brother knows about this, why hide it from me?”

  “Because you aren’t like him.” The words flew from her with a biting undertone that seemed to drain all the air from the room. Regretting the way in which she’d said it, Amelia tried to explain. “You’re from a world that doesn’t allow women any kind of independence. Had you known, you would have insisted on coming with me, of hovering over my shoulder while I spoke to Mr. Gorrell. Worse, you would probably have taken over the negotiations and denied me any chance of seeing to this project on my own.”

  “Considering how things turned out, that would probably have been an excellent thing.”

  “No, it wouldn’t have!” How could she make him understand when he was so bent on seeing the worst? “As I said, your suspicions about Mr. Gorrell were correct. He mentioned another offer at five thousand and I countered at five thousand five hundred.”

  “Christ! What the hell were you—”

  “Let me finish, will you?” His glower conveyed his reluctance for her to do so, but he jerked his chin in agreement nonetheless. “Ever since moving to Mayfair, I have felt . . . lost. I don’t belong with the aristocracy, and I don’t believe that I ever will, no matter how much I try.” The words spoken behind her back at her brother’s ball mocked her once more. “But there are some benefits to my new situation and the wealth that has come with it. I’m now in a position to do something constructive with my life, something meaningful and . . . I would so much rather spend my money on buying this house and renovating it than on jewels and dresses. I’ve no need for those, but after fifteen years of being able to move about freely, of feeling as though I was in charge of my destiny, however dismal that destiny might have been, I need to do something of my own; something that’s only mine and that nobody else will interfere with.”

  “You’re seeking power and control.”

  She hadn’t really thought of it like that, but perhaps he was right. “I will make mistakes. I know that. But they will be my mistakes and—”

  “Your mistakes so far have not only been costly but completely unnecessary.” He considered her with a blank expression that made her insides squirm. “What troubles me the most, however, is your dishonesty. Frankly, I thought you were better than that.”

  “I . . .” If he’d told her he hated her, it wouldn’t have hurt more than the disappointment that showed on his face. “I wasn’t sure how to explain all of this to you or your mother or Lady Everly. Chances were that one of you, if not all, would have tried to stop me from coming here today.” Pouring every bit of remorse she felt into her gaze, she whispered, “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Inhaling sharply, he expelled his breath on a nod. “Very well then.”

  “Very well?”

  “I will try to think of the best way in which to accommodate the desire you have to make something useful of this broken-down building. In the meantime, we need to leave. I am supposed to be back at Dorset House in twenty minutes and I think it might be best if we get you home first.”

  Agreeing, Amelia followed him outside where she locked the door before accompanying him to where his carriage waited on a side street. Helping her in, he claimed the opposite seat and proceeded to look anywhere but at her, feeding her guilt until she felt so rotten about her handling of the situation that sitting still became difficult. She clutched at her seat cushion in order to keep her hands from fidgeting.

  “I want you to come to me from now on,” he said, his voice landing on the windowpane as he stared out at the rain-streaked buildings they were passing.

  “But I—”

  His head swung around so his eyes could drill into her. “No but
s.” His lips pressed tightly together to form a severe line across his otherwise handsome face. “You betrayed my trust today, and that is something I will not allow you to do again. Is that understood?”

  Amelia knew she’d placed herself at his mercy. He had the power to crush her dreams now that Raphe wasn’t here to step in. So she nodded and said, “Of course,” adding the formal, “Your Grace,” to underscore his authority.

  He held her gaze for a while, the rich brown irises darkening to near black. “When are you supposed to pay Mr. Gorrell the money you owe him?”

  “One week from today.”

  “Good. I will escort you. And when I do, I trust you will be dressed in a more appropriate manner, because that, what you are wearing . . .” He shook his head. “What if someone had recognized you?”

  “That was why I wore it. To avoid recognition.” When he frowned, she explained, “No aristocrat is going to look too closely at a woman who’s dressed like this. They’ll cross to the other side of the street first.”

  “And yet I spotted you because you were the only visible anomaly.” Crossing his arms, he leaned back and closed his eyes, blocking her from his view. “Why do young women always have to seek out adventure? It leads to nothing but trouble and . . .” His features hardened on the unspoken words. The low gravelly tenor of his voice vibrated through her, stealing into her chest and squeezing her heart with such fierceness she gasped.

  It was then that she realized his anger had to be based on more than her actions alone. There was something more complicated than that at play—a manifestation of more than one singular emotion. She felt it so profoundly that whatever the cause, it ran deeper than anything she could have said or done on her own.

  Unsure of how to soothe him, she reached out her hand and paused. She wasn’t supposed to touch him. It wasn’t considered appropriate behavior even though her instinct might be to offer comfort. She’d always done so for her siblings, but this was different. Coventry wasn’t a relation. He was a man for whom she’d felt nothing but love and adoration until he’d shown her his wrath. Now she didn’t know what she felt besides frustration and heartache. What should have been an enjoyable project was turning into a nightmare. The excitement she’d felt for it had vanished during the course of the last hour, leaving her with an emptiness inside that she did not care for.

  So she withdrew her hand and leaned back against her side of the carriage while wondering if she would ever understand his reaction today. Because although she knew she’d disappointed him, she did not think she warranted some of the harsh words he’d spoken or the menacing way in which he’d delivered them. Which made her wonder if she’d really known him at all, or if the smitten state she’d been in had made her ignore his true character.

  Chapter 6

  Sipping her tea, Amelia tried to focus on what the dowager duchess was saying. The lady had arrived half an hour earlier and was now seated on the opposite sofa next to Lady Everly while Juliette occupied an adjacent armchair. The subject of discussion was a bit of gossip that had been picked up during yesterday’s tea party, but Amelia was having some trouble following the line of conversation. Her thoughts kept drifting to other issues.

  For one thing, it had now been twenty-four hours since she’d seen Coventry last. She’d spent most of that time going over their conversation while simultaneously trying to figure out how to acquire the money she now owed Mr. Gorrell. Both contemplations had kept her awake for most of the night until she’d had to acknowledge that Coventry had been right. She had behaved recklessly and with no consideration for anyone else but herself. Achieving her goal had been so important to her she’d failed to consider the ramifications of her actions.

  There was no doubt in her mind that Coventry was an honorable man. If he’d promised Raphe he would look out for her during his absence, then Coventry would take his duty to do so seriously. She also had to remember that he’d been raised with Society rules dictating his every move while circumstance had not required her to have an escort whenever she went out alone. Raphe had worked and boxed most days, so she’d had to see to the errands outside of the house as well, like shopping for food, buying wood for the fireplace and selling their old clothes to rag-collectors. She’d had to deal with some questionable individuals over the years, but Mr. Gorrell was the first to get the better of her. Perhaps because his station had made her less suspicious—a mistake that would not be repeated.

  Once her annoyance with herself and Coventry had abated a little, she’d had to acknowledge he’d made some valid arguments. What if someone had recognized her? The possibility had existed the moment she’d stepped out into the street. Would she be able to forgive herself for the negative effect such an incident might have on Juliette? And what about Raphe? He’d agreed to give her the funds she’d asked for, but he’d also trusted her to use them wisely.

  With a sigh, she watched Lady Everly speak to the dowager duchess about a Mr. Somethingorother. Not caring, she chose to continue her pondering. She would have to come up with an additional twenty-five hundred pounds now. It seemed like an impossible task. Especially when her time was being monopolized by dress fittings, dance lessons, social calls, balls and whatever else Lady Everly and the dowager duchess had in mind.

  “So what do you think?” Lady Everly asked.

  Amelia blinked at the realization that the question was being directed at her. “About what?”

  “About our thoughts on your potential suitors,” the dowager duchess clarified. She pointed toward the paper that lay on the table. It was the same one Lady Everly had produced two days earlier but with a few additional names penned across the bottom.

  Picking it up, Amelia glanced at the long list of names. “I don’t believe I’m acquainted with most of these gentlemen,” she said. Noting a number next to each one, she asked, “What is this?”

  “Their annual income,” Lady Everly said with a smile. “We do not know what all of them are yet, but we will figure it out soon enough.”

  Amelia nodded while she glanced at the single digits. “So . . . Lord Yates makes . . . three thousand pounds?”

  Lady Everly chuckled. “Might I suggest you add a zero to that number?”

  “A title and a fortune? What a fine catch,” Juliette muttered.

  Her dry tone made Amelia laugh, which in turn made Lady Everly roll her eyes while the dowager duchess watched with a sympathetic smile.

  “In case you are wondering,” Lady Everly said, “I favor love matches, but one has to start somewhere when seeking a husband, and this seemed like as good a place as any.”

  “And there is no harm in falling in love with a rich man,” the dowager duchess added. “If anything, I should think that doing so would be simpler.”

  “As long as he reciprocates the sentiment,” Amelia said without thinking. She immediately regretted the words when everyone paused to stare at her. “It would only lead to heartache if he didn’t,” she added with a shrug. Not that she knew anything about that since she was as out of love with Coventry as she’d been before she’d met him.

  He would never make her happy. Yesterday’s argument had confirmed how ill-suited they were for each other. Which was just as well since he no doubt had some duchess-in-training to court at some point or other.

  “I suppose that is true,” Lady Everly agreed. “But I can assure you that the worst thing of all would be for him to share your affection and then marry someone else.”

  “Why on earth would such a thing happen?” Juliette asked. “I mean, if he were from a good family and you—”

  “A family feud could be the cause.” A bitter note had entered the dowager countess’s voice. “One might be surprised by how scheming parents can be and the negative impact it can have on their children.”

  “Which is why we all wish to do what is in your best interest,” the dowager duchess hastily added.

  “My brother doesn’t insist we marry nobility though,” Amelia said, “so I don�
��t think we need to limit our choices to titled gentlemen alone.” She’d actually felt bad about doing so even before she’d overheard those women at the ball. Because what right did she and her sister actually have to breeze into Society as if they were just as deserving of an earl or viscount or . . . whatever . . . as the ladies who’d been raised to marry such men since birth? The fact that their parents had been gentry was hardly enough when considering their lack of education and accomplishments. Until recently, they hadn’t even known that a fish knife existed.

  “Of course you needn’t,” the dowager duchess said. She shifted her gaze to Amelia, eyes bursting with kindness. “But what harm is there in aspiring for greatness? Granted, you must pick a man who you like, one with whom you feel a certain . . . compatibility. The more you have in common, the easier it will be for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company, to become friends and, in time, grow to love one another. That is how it happened for me and my husband, and we were tremendously happy.”

  “In that case, we might be in need of more paper,” Amelia said. She sipped her tea until she had everyone’s full attention. “Names and fortunes are clearly not enough for my sister and I to form a proper opinion of these potential suitors. We shall need to list their interests and characteristics, as well.”

  “What about looks?” Juliette asked.

  Amelia felt her lips lift at the corners as she glanced toward her. “While they may matter in order to hold a visual interest, they are the least important when it comes to marital bliss. You only need to think of Mama in order to know how true that is.”

  “Agreed.” Juliette stood. “I’ll fetch the writing materials so we can start adding additional information.”

  They spent the next hour jotting down each gentleman’s preferred pastime activities, the locations of their various estates and whatever else Lady Everly and the dowager duchess were able to recollect. Amelia was just jotting down Mr. Lowell’s skill at whist when Pierson came to knock on the door. “The Duke of Coventry is here,” he announced right before the duke entered the parlor.