The Duke’s Desire

by Margaret Moore

  She laughed softly. “It does.”

  Then they heard the sound of hoofbeats.

  Galen let go of her and went to the window. “He’s taken Harry.”

  “Oh, Galen!”

  “Never mind. Let him go.”

  The front door banged open. “I just seen that Blackstone—!”

  When Nancy spotted Galen, she came to an abrupt halt, sending her bonnet flying forward. She shoved it back regardless of the damage she did to its brim. “Sweet sufferin’ savior! What the devil is he doing here?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “S it down, Nancy,” Verity said calmly. “I have something to tell you.”

  “He hasn’t come to make trouble, has he?” she demanded suspiciously. “About Jocelyn?”

  “What about Jocelyn?”

  “About her being his daughter, that’s what,” Nancy replied, still glaring at Galen while she moved as if to bar the door. “If you think we’re going to let you come here and—”

  “You knew about her?” Galen asked, while Verity felt for a chair and sat heavily.

  She felt as winded as if she had run for miles. “All this time you knew about the duke and me?”

  “O’ course I did. Mr. Davis-Jones had no secrets from me. He told me before you was married. He wanted me to understand I was to be good to you. ‘Nancy,’ he says to me, ‘I have forgiven her because I love her dearly, and you are to do the same.’ So I did.” She sniffed, then smiled. “It wasn’t hard. I never seen nor heard of a more devoted wife than you were to him.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me sooner?”

  “Because you were so ashamed—and quite rightly, too. I would have made your life a misery if you hadn’t been. Still, I didn’t see any need to add to your shame. I was scared that Blackstone was going to find out. Every time he come here I was on tenterhooks, believe you me!”

  Which probably explained her fits of temper when the Blackstones came to visit.

  “Galen doesn’t want to interfere,” Verity explained. “He wants to know her, as he should, since he has learned she exists.”

  “I assure you, Nancy, I love my daughter and want only what is best for her.”

  “He was willing to stay away from us completely because I thought that would be best,” Verity confirmed.

  “Then what’s he doing here?” Nancy demanded.

  “He came back to warn me that Clive had discovered the truth. He arrived just in time. If you must be angry, be angry at Clive. He came on his own and wanted to use my secret to…to make me…”

  “I can guess,” Nancy growled, a look of both angry understanding and sympathy dawning. “I knew that slimy lout was just biding his time.” She shook her fist toward the lane. “I wish he was still here. I’d make him sorry!”

  “I don’t doubt that you would,” Galen agreed. “I am more glad than I can say to know Verity has such a loyal friend. However, I sincerely hope we shall not be seeing Mr. Blackstone again. He has left, presumably for good.”

  “Thank God—and I hope you’re right!” She eyed them both warily. “So you’re telling me the duke’s not going to make trouble?”

  “No, he’s not going to make trouble,” Verity affirmed.

  “I promise you, Nancy, I love them both too much to cause any trouble.”

  Nancy’s face suddenly brightened with a broad smile. “I believe you,” she declared with a brisk nod. “I can see it in them eyes of yours. Now, what about a spot of tea? I could use one, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, please,” Verity answered.

  With no further urging, Nancy headed for the kitchen, pausing on the threshold to look back at Galen. “Little Jocelyn’s the spittin’ image of you, you know. ’Cept for her eyes, o’ course. But nobody’d believe Mrs. Davis-Jones ever had a dishonorable thought in her life, leastways them as knows her, so I think your secret will be safe awhile yet.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Galen said as Nancy marched out of the room.

  “She knew, Galen,” Verity said incredulously, coming to him. “She knew all the time. I never suspected for a moment, nor would I have believed she could keep such a thing to herself.”

  “Another surprise in a day of surprises.”

  As she led him back to the sofa, she said, “You’re so pale. Are you ill?”

  “Only exhausted. I had the devil of a time getting out the city, and Harry threw a shoe. I feared I was never going to get here, and at the same time, worried that if I did, I would be upsetting you for nothing.”

  “Because you paid to ensure our safety.”

  He nodded. “I only hope it’s enough.”

  “If it isn’t, I’m not afraid. I mean it, Galen,” she said. “I am tired of being frightened. I will not have Jocelyn live in fear, either, as I have done. She also has a father who loves her, and I will not deny her that anymore, either.”

  He kissed her tenderly. Reverently. “Nevertheless, I had better leave before somebody notices I’m here. I suppose I can stay with Myron tonight, although the poor fellow will likely wonder if I’ve gone soft in the head running back and forth between Jefford and London.”

  She held him close, nestling her head against his chest. “Or he may think you have reverted to your former impetuous ways.”

  “Perhaps. I wish so much I had been a better man when I first met you.”

  “If I had been stronger all those years ago—”

  Galen shook his head. “You were young, and alone. If I had been stronger, I would have sent you away, or sought you out before you married. We both made mistakes, Verity. Let us have no more recriminations. What is past is past.”

  With a sigh, Verity nodded, feeling safe and secure at last.

  He caressed her cheek. “If Nancy keeps our secret, it may be that no one else need ever know the truth about Jocelyn.”

  “Or it may be that Clive will tell everybody he meets.” She cocked her head to look up at Galen. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Galen, if all of society turned its back on me. It would be worst to have to live without you. I know that now.”

  His arms tightened about her. “Or it may be that my threats will work, and he will keep his mouth shut. Let us hope for the best.”

  “Whatever happens, Jocelyn will know the truth one day, as she should,” Verity promised. “I confess I don’t relish the idea of admitting what I did, but she has a right to know you are her father.”

  “Well, let us take that road when we must, and not before, my love,” he whispered as he lowered his head.

  His lips met hers with loving urgency, and passion no longer constrained by secrets and past mistakes.

  “Mama?”

  Verity started and looked over her shoulder. Jocelyn gazed at them from the door, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. A schoolbook was cradled under her arm, and the mud on her boots revealed that she had taken the shortcut through the woods home.

  “Next will come mad King George,” Galen muttered wryly as they moved apart, although they still held hands. “Good afternoon, Miss Davis-Jones.”

  “You’ve come back.”

  “I found it impossible to stay away.”

  “You were kissing Mama.”

  “I confess I was.”

  “I was kissing the duke, too,” Verity noted, determined that her daughter understand this was a good thing.

  Jocelyn walked slowly into the room. “Do you want to marry Mama?”

  Galen looked at Verity and her heart pounded in her chest at the love shining in his eyes. “Yes, very much.”

  Jocelyn grinned broadly and threw her book onto the sofa with glee. Then she gave a tremendous whoop.

  “Jocelyn,” Verity began, feeling that she ought to say something, or at least act like a respectable grown-up—even though, in truth, she felt like whooping herself.

  “Please say yes, Mama!” Jocelyn pleaded eagerly. “He’s so very nice. I like him so much, and I know you do, too. I want you to be happy, Mama. You’re happy when you
’re with the duke.”

  Verity turned to him, her eyes brimming with happy tears.

  “I do not want to disappoint Jocelyn in any way,” he said before she could speak.

  He knelt on one knee and took her hand gently in his. “Verity, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Say yes, Mama, say yes!” Jocelyn cried. “Look, he’s gone down on his knee and everything, just like a prince in a storybook!”

  “How, then, could I say no?” Verity softly replied.

  “My love,” Galen cried, pulling her into his arms and kissing her passionately.

  It took them a moment to remember they were not alone, and break the kiss. Then Galen immediately reached out to include Jocelyn in his loving embrace.

  “Galen!” Eloise cried as her cousin entered the drawing room of her London home five days later. “What a delightful surprise! It is not like you to call in the afternoon.”

  Galen smiled, and inwardly girded his loins as he prepared to deliver news that would be even more of a surprise. “Good afternoon, Eloise.”

  Despite his resolution that he had to tell Eloise his good news and endure her voluble reaction, he hesitated. “George about?”

  Eloise frowned as she resumed her seat on the gold brocade sofa and draped her arm over its curved mahogany back. “He’s in his study. He told me he was going to be writing a letter to a man with a particularly fine foxhound, but he’s really gone there to nap.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why? Do you need to speak with him?”

  “No,” Galen confessed. He sat on the delicate chair opposite her. “I have come to tell you both some wonderful news, but if he is sleeping, I will not disturb him.”

  Eloise straightened. “News? What news?”

  “I am going to be married.”

  “Oh, my dear cousin!” she cried as she clapped her hands. “Lady Mary will be a perfect wife for you! So charming, so sweet, so accommodating!”

  “My bride will not be Lady Mary.”

  “So accomplished, so pretty, so—!” Eloise blinked. “What did you say?”

  “I said, my bride will not be Lady Mary.”

  “Then…then who?”

  “I am going to marry Verity Davis-Jones.”

  Eloise gasped for breath like a fish out of water. “Ver…Verity Davis-Jones? You can’t be serious!”

  “I am very serious,” he replied gravely. Then he smiled. “I love her, Eloise, and she assures me the feeling is mutual.”

  “Love…you love her?”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. Shall I call a footman?”

  “No, no!” she cried as she rapidly fanned herself with her hand. “It’s just…such a surprise! I mean, Verity! When did you…how did you…?”

  “I thought you liked Verity.”

  “Oh, but I do! She is a lovely woman—but she’s…well, she’s not…”

  “Titled and rich?” he supplied for her.

  “Yes!”

  “I don’t care.”

  Eloise frowned. “Of course you don’t. You’re a man and a duke. But people are going to talk, and there is her daughter—”

  Eloise fell silent and her eyes widened as she stared at her dark-haired cousin.

  “What about her daughter, Eloise?” Galen asked evenly.

  His cousin blushed, swallowed hard—and met his gaze. “Nothing, Galen, nothing at all, except that she exists.”

  “Yes, she does, and she is going to be in my life from now on.”

  “Of course, yes, I see,” Eloise replied. She smiled. “I see absolutely, and you may count on me, Galen.” She rose and gave him a kiss on the cheek before resuming her seat. “I’m really very happy for the both of you.”

  As he slowly let out his breath, Galen realized just how anxious he had been about Eloise’s reaction to his news, and if she would guess about Jocelyn. Fortunately, it seemed Eloise understood how he intended to deal with anybody who questioned Jocelyn’s parentage. “Thank you, Eloise.”

  “I’m sure you’ll both be very happy together.”

  “I know we will.”

  “Where will you live? Italy?”

  Galen shook his head. “We know there will be some talk, and we think we must brave it out, cousin. We have done enough running away.”

  Eloise nodded her approval. “Very wise, Galen, very wise. Face society head-on. When is the wedding? Of course, I shall give you a party and—”

  “Eloise?”

  “Yes, Galen?”

  “Perhaps not that head-on. Give us a little time, won’t you? And we would like a small wedding, just friends and family, which means you and George, naturally.”

  “This news will cause a sensation, Galen, no matter what you do.”

  “We know, and neither Verity or I are looking forward to it.” Then he gave her a knowing smile. “But you don’t mind making a sensation, do you, cousin? Think how it will be when you tell your friends how I fell in love at first sight and had to try so hard to win my bride’s hand that when I believed it be hopeless, I was so full of despair, I contemplated suicide.”

  Eloise stared at him. “Suicide?”

  “Perhaps my feelings were not quite so drastic, but I see no need to let that impede your story. You may tell them whatever you wish—within reason,” he added, “just so long as you make it very clear that I am utterly and completely in love with Verity and will not be pleased by rude remarks or sly innuendoes.”

  “If the look you gave me a little while ago affects others as it did me, cousin, I think you have very little to fear in the way of rude remarks or sly innuendoes—to your face, at any rate.”

  “I know there will be other remarks behind my back,” he admitted. “We cannot do anything about that.”

  “Except do as you said you would and brave it out. I really do think that will be for the best. Otherwise, the speculation will take on a life of its own. When I think of some of the rumors flying about when you first went to Italy! Several people had you locked in a madhouse, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “A few thought a foreign prison much more likely.”

  “I was in prison, Eloise, but one of my own making.”

  His cousin’s eyes softened as she gave him a maternal smile. “And now I think you are finally out of it. Galen, I am truly happy for you. Both of you.”

  Suddenly she gasped and jumped to her feet. “I simply must tell George!” She hurried to the door, then paused on the threshold and gave Galen a wry smile as she glanced back over her shoulder. “That should take his mind off his dogs for a moment.”

  While Eloise was out of the room, an anxious footman appeared and came toward Galen. “If you please, Your Grace, there’s a man here asking for you. He says his name’s Franklin, Your Grace.”

  The man he had hired to keep an eye on Clive and ensure that he boarded the ship? What the devil was he doing here?

  At nearly the same time, Verity hurried up the steps to Fanny’s house in Heathrow. Before she could knock, Fanny threw open the door and fell sobbing into her sister-in-law’s arms. “Oh, Verity, Verity, I’m so glad you’ve come! I don’t know what to do! Oh, Clive!”

  Verity gently embraced Fanny. “I got your letter, so naturally I came as soon as I could. Now let us go inside, Fanny, and I’ll make us some tea, shall I?”

  Sniffling, Fanny nodded and let Verity take her by the hand as if she were no older than Jocelyn, and lead her inside the small, dark house. She continued to weep and sniffle as Verity set about removing her cloak and making the tea in the cramped kitchen. She didn’t know where Fanny’s servant had gone, but wasn’t about to ask her distraught sister-in-law.

  When the kettle was filled and set on the stove, she sat at the table and regarded the woeful Fanny. “You have still not heard from him?”

  “Not a word, not a line, since he left for London! I fear something terrible has happened to him. I…I know you don’t like him, Verity, but I am so frightened.”r />
  With a sigh, Verity reached out and took Fanny’s hand in hers. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. “Fanny, I have something to tell you.”

  “About Clive?” she asked warily.

  “Yes, about Clive.”

  “Is he dead?” she whispered.

  Verity shook her head and the haunted look in Fanny’s eyes lessened. “Nevertheless, I have to say I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”

  “Not coming back?” Fanny repeated helplessly. “Then he did go to see you and not to London? What happened? What have you done?”

  “I didn’t do anything, Fanny, and I think you know that. But Clive wanted to do something, something despicable.”

  Fanny’s face reddened, and more tears fell from her eyes.

  “He was prevented by the Duke of Deighton.”

  She blanched. “The duke?”

  “Fanny,” Verity continued gently, “what do you know of Clive’s dealings with the duke?”

  “I don’t know anything about Clive’s dealings with anybody. He never talked about business to me. He did say he was going to London on business, though.”

  “He went to London to try to blackmail the duke.”

  Fanny gaped at her.

  “It’s true. He found out something, and he was going to use it against both the duke, and me.”

  Fanny’s grip on Verity’s hand tightened. “He found out about Jocelyn, didn’t he?” she whispered. “I was afraid he might one day.”

  Verity’s mouth fell open in astonishment. How many other people had Daniel told about Jocelyn? “You knew? How?”

  “I didn’t know, not for certain, but she didn’t resemble Daniel in the least, not in appearance or manner. Nor did she look a great deal like you, so I only suspected. I had no proof of anything, and you were so good to Daniel and he loved you so much, and doted on Jocelyn…”

  She began sobbing again, prompting Verity to rise and go to her, kneel beside her and put her arms tenderly about her. “You never said anything of your suspicions to Clive,” she said softly, realizing that it must be so, or Clive would have used even a supposition against her long ago.