The Duke of Deception

by Darcy Burke

  “My parents wished for me to marry. If they’d thought I was purposely sabotaging things…” She didn’t want to think of what they might’ve done. “I’m so sorry to have misled you both, truly, but I thought it was best.” Because she’d been afraid. Afraid for herself, afraid for her mother, just afraid.

  She realized that for the first time in her life, she wouldn’t have to worry about what her father would do. She would be free of him entirely in just over a week. A weight lifted from her, and she felt her body relax.

  Lucy’s brow wrinkled. “There’s something else going on here. Aquilla, forgive me, dear, but you seem far more capable of deception than I ever would have guessed. What aren’t you telling us?”

  Ivy pursed her lips at Lucy. “Don’t badger her. She doesn’t have to tell us anything.”

  “Just because you’re fond of nurturing secrets doesn’t mean Aquilla is.” Lucy straightened and was silent for a moment. She blinked. “Or maybe she is. You’re quite right, Ivy. It’s none of my business.”

  Aquilla could tell that Lucy was upset. The three of them had been friends for over five years. They shared everything. Well, almost everything. They knew Ivy kept parts of her past buried and would likely never reveal them. And they accepted that. It was part of their friendship contract, in an unspoken but trusted manner. Aquilla, however, had misrepresented herself, and she didn’t wish to keep the truth from her closest friends—the first two people who’d ever shown her companionship and love—any longer.

  “I’m afraid,” she blurted.

  Lucy and Ivy stared at her for a moment before moving toward her so that they were a tight circle, or rather a triangle.

  “Oh my dear, what are you afraid of?” Lucy asked. “Marriage?”

  Aquilla nodded.

  Ivy studied her. “Do you truly wish to marry Sutton? What happened to your plan to become a companion?” She looked at Lucy and explained, “She revealed her feelings about marriage when she asked me for help in becoming a companion.”

  Did she want to marry him? No. Yes. Maybe? She knew she didn’t want to marry Lindsell, and since that was her only other option, she’d choose Sutton. “I don’t not want to marry him.”

  “Well, that’s a resounding endorsement,” Lucy said wryly, provoking smiles from Aquilla and Ivy.

  It was past time to just tell them everything. Well, maybe not everything. “If I didn’t accept Sutton, my father was going to marry me to Lindsell,” Aquilla said. “He has a tract of land my father wants. I wasn’t given a choice in the matter. But when Sutton heard of this, he pressed his suit. So I chose him.”

  “Because he’s the lesser of two evils,” Ivy said. She looked at Aquilla intently. “You could choose neither.”

  How Aquilla wished that were possible. “My father would ensure I at least married Lindsell.” She took a deep breath and plowed forward. “In fact, part of me thinks he’ll show up here and say I’m to marry him anyway.”

  Lucy shook her head. “That makes no sense. Sutton is an earl.”

  “Sense isn’t something my father always displays. He’d rather do whatever is most cruel. If he thought for a moment that I didn’t want to marry, that I’d been trying to avoid it, he would’ve forced me into a wedding long before now. He would’ve enjoyed watching me suffer.”

  Ivy touched Aquilla’s arm. “You never told us that. I knew your parents were cold and difficult, but I didn’t know it went beyond that.”

  “I didn’t either. Honestly, I thought they just didn’t care about you.” Lucy took Aquilla’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”

  Aquilla could see that they were hurting for her, that they would’ve been there for her the past few years if she’d but told them. She blinked several times lest she cry. She couldn’t go down to dinner if that happened.

  “Now you see why I didn’t want to marry. Everything I’ve seen and everything I’ve experienced has shown me that marriage is horrid. The man who courted my mother and won her heart turned out not to be the man she married. Sutton is kind and generous and charming…and so much more. But how am I to know that’s the real him?”

  “Oh, Aquilla.” Lucy sounded as if her heart was breaking.

  “You can’t know,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “And you really don’t have to marry him. I can help you become a companion.”

  “My father would never allow it.”

  “Your father would never know what happened to you. You’d simply vanish.” She cocked her head as she continued. “Granted, you’d have to take up employment somewhere besides London, and you’d have to change your name.”

  Aquilla glanced at Lucy, who looked as shocked as Aquilla felt.

  “Vanish?” Lucy gaped at Ivy. “And change her name?”

  Ivy looked mildly uncomfortable, her shoulder twitching. “If she wants.”

  Aquilla suspected Ivy not only knew how to do this but had perhaps done so herself. She also doubted that Ivy would admit to that. “I don’t wish to vanish or change my name. I would miss the two of you far too much.” That was true, but she also didn’t think she had the courage to start a new life. She wasn’t like Ivy, whose confidence and independence had drawn Aquilla when they’d first met.

  “If you say so,” Ivy said. “However, if you change your mind, I will always be here to help you. Always.”

  Aquilla didn’t doubt that. Loyalty was Ivy’s greatest trait and was probably the thing that bound the three of them the most tightly.

  “I can’t dispute what Ivy says—you won’t know Sutton until you are married, and even then you’ll have a lifetime to sort it all out.” She said this with a tone of wistfulness and joy that gave Aquilla hope. “I know my marriage is young, but Dartford is everything I could’ve wanted and more. It’s true he isn’t precisely the man I met.” Her eyes glinted with fierce love. “He’s better.”

  Aquilla waited for Ivy to raise a dispute and was surprised when she sniffed instead. “I’m so very happy for you, Lucy. Contrary to what you might think, I do believe there are good men in the world. I just think they are few in number and difficult to find. You are exceedingly lucky.” She pivoted toward Aquilla and gave her a bright smile. She was so beautiful when she smiled, which wasn’t nearly often enough. Aquilla really did hope that someday, Ivy would release whatever burdened her soul. “Aquilla, I am certain you’ll be just as happy with Sutton.”

  Though Aquilla didn’t share that certainty, she felt better having her friends’ support and blessing. She was also glad she’d finally told them the truth. “I truly am sorry for misleading you.”

  “You had an excellent reason,” Lucy said.

  Ivy nodded in agreement. “And it’s not as if we’ll hold it against you.”

  “Certainly not.” Lucy’s eyes widened. “Goodness, how long have we been up here? They’re likely wondering what’s taking us so long.”

  “Yes, we should go downstairs,” Ivy said, adjusting her glove. “I’m quite looking forward to having the Forbidden Duke, the Duke of Daring, and the Duke of Deception under one roof.”

  Lucy laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. We’re only missing the Dukes of Desire, Danger, Disgrace, who am I missing?”

  Ivy waved her hand, grinning. “Too many to count. Anyway, we shan’t be gathering any others.” She looked at them sharply, as if to remind them that she was never going to marry. “Oh, I am going to miss the both of you,” she said sadly.

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Lucy said, sliding her elbow against Ivy’s.

  Ivy didn’t look convinced. “We’ve scarcely seen you since you married, and now it will be the same with Aquilla. She’ll likely be off to Sutton Park before the end of next week, and who knows when we’ll see her next.”

  “At least we’re both relatively close to Town.” Lucy looked toward Aquilla. “Sutton Park is even closer than Darent Hall, isn’t it?”

  Aquilla nodded just as a knock sounded on the door. Bailey popped her head inside and informe
d them that it was time to go in to dinner.

  The three friends burst into giggles before marching from the room in single file. Aquilla was so glad they’d had that time together. She was feeling much better about her situation—far more confident and optimistic.

  She descended the stairs, and there he was. Waiting for her at the threshold to the dining room, garbed in an immaculate black coat and the whitest of shirts and cravats she’d ever seen. His dark blond hair waved back from his elegantly sculpted face, his gray eyes piercing and full of promise as he watched her step into the hall.

  Everyone else faded away as she glided toward his proffered arm. “Good evening,” he murmured. “You look beautiful.”

  “So do you.” She uttered the words before she could think. Because he’d utterly stolen her ability to do that. Perhaps her ruse as a featherbrain hadn’t been a ruse at all. Perhaps she’d just been one handsome husband-to-be away from losing her wits.

  Chapter Nine

  Seated beside his future wife, Ned enjoyed dinner as he never had before. He’d never been so eager for the future. In the company of her charm and the proximity of her allure, it was easy to ignore his concerns about George and Aquilla.

  When dinner was finished, the women repaired to the drawing room upstairs, while the men remained to enjoy their port. Ned would’ve rather gone with the women, and judging from the longing stare Dartford delivered toward his departing wife’s backside, he gathered he wasn’t alone in that sentiment.

  Lord Satterfield lifted his glass. “To welcoming Sutton into the fold. Miss Knox will make you a fine countess.”

  “Hear, hear,” the Duke of Kendal, seated to Satterfield’s left, said.

  “Felicitations,” Dartford said from Ned’s right.

  They all took a long drink of their port and Ned thanked them. He didn’t know any of the other three men very well, but they seemed a decent, pleasant sort. Kendal was known to be aloof, but he’d been very engaging tonight. Perhaps he just preferred the company of those in his inner circle. Ned could understand that. He kept a part of himself reserved from most everyone he met. And now that his wife hunt was over, he could spend less time bothering with social events and more time improving the plight of the deranged as well as focusing on his family. Which would include Aquilla as well as George.

  He shifted in his chair, anxious to see Aquilla. She looked so lovely tonight in an ivory gown that reflected the glow of her pale skin. Her hair had been intricately styled, which only made him want to take it apart, curl by curl, and finger every strand to determine which was softest. He was certain each would be more silken than the last.

  Dartford turned in his chair and rested his elbow on the table. “Forgive me, Sutton, but since we’re family, I have to ask you something.”

  Ned was curious to hear his question, but even more surprised to hear him say they were family. “I fear I’m confused since we are not and will not be related.”

  Dartford chuckled. “Satterfield said welcome to the fold, but he really meant family. If Miss Knox hasn’t informed you, the attendees of this party are somewhat of a makeshift family—at least that’s what Lucy told me when we wed.”

  Kendal nodded in agreement across the table. “Nora would agree with that.”

  “As do I,” Satterfield said. “The moment Miss Knox came to stay with us, she became part of the family. Just as Nora did before her. And of course their friends, by extension, have been welcomed.” He smiled at his stepson-in-law, the duke. “None of us are actually related by blood, are we, my boy?”

  The duke’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “We are not, and that means precisely nothing.”

  Ned liked that sentiment. Very much. “I think I’ll enjoy being part of this family, thank you.” He looked at Dartford. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “Oh yes. That. You’ve quite a reputation for breaking young ladies’ hearts. You’ve no plans to do that to Miss Knox?” There was an edge to Dartford’s voice that reflected his concern. “My apologies, but I had to ask.”

  Ned bristled, but decided that if they were family, then perhaps Dartford was merely trying to play the role of father or older brother. The fact that Aquilla had both a father and an older brother begged the question as to why they weren’t here asking those questions. Had they even been invited? The engagement had occurred only two days ago, so perhaps they hadn’t been able to travel here—Ned knew they lived over fifty miles away. Except wasn’t her mother in Town? He pulled himself from his thoughts and answered Dartford’s question. “I have no plans to break her heart. But then I never planned to break anyone’s heart.”

  “We never do,” Kendal murmured, causing the other men, including Ned, to laugh. “Never mind the rumors,” he continued. “It’s all nonsense.”

  “Agreed,” Dartford said, lifting his glass. “I only thought it our duty to inquire. I am satisfied you have every intention of marrying Miss Knox.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Ned said wryly, provoking another round of light laughter. He looked to Satterfield. “I thought Lady Knox was in Town. Was she not able to come this evening?”

  Satterfield cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment. “I’m not entirely certain, but I think she may have returned to Bedfordshire.”

  How odd. Why wouldn’t she have stayed in Town to help her daughter prepare to marry? He’d wanted a wife who wasn’t particularly close to her family, and it seemed he’d found one.

  Satterfield looked between Kendal and Dartford. “Do you young men have any advice for our groom?”

  Dartford looked at Ned over the rim of his glass before lifting the port to his lips. He winked as he took a sip. “Learn how to perform the tasks of a lady’s maid.”

  Ned smiled. “As it happens, I am quite skilled with my hands.”

  Laughter erupted around the table. “I’m certain that’s what your wife will say,” Kendal said drolly.

  Ned shook his head, still smiling.

  “I would add that you should accept your wife’s counsel in nearly all things,” Satterfield said.

  “Nearly?” Kendal asked. He leaned across the table and spoke in a stage whisper. “I would advise you to accept her counsel whenever she offers it.”

  “I’m still somewhat new to this,” Dartford said, “but I can see the merit in what he says.” He raised his glass toward the duke.

  The duke responded in kind, and both took a drink of port.

  Dartford set his glass on the table. “I’m out, gents. Would you mind if we went to join the ladies?”

  “No.” Both Ned and the duke answered quickly and in unison.

  Satterfield laughed. “Ah, young love.” He tossed back the rest of his port and stood. “Let us adjourn, lads.”

  Love. There was that word again. Ned finished his port and got to his feet, eager to join the ladies upstairs. He smoothed his hand over the front of his coat, feeling the small lump on the interior and stifling a smile.

  They walked up one flight to the drawing room, where the women were enjoying glasses of sherry. Aquilla’s back was to him on the settee, but she turned her head, which drew his attention to the graceful column of her throat and the pearls nestled against her luminous flesh. She looked beautiful in pearls. He made a mental note to pick up a pair of earrings before the wedding.

  He strolled to the seating area and directed his attention to Lady Satterfield. “With your permission, I’d like to escort Miss Knox for a promenade around the garden.”

  The countess inclined her head and dashed a look at her ward. “Certainly. There’s a staircase from the back veranda through there.” She gestured to the sitting room at the rear of the town house.

  Ned turned to Aquilla and offered his hand. “If you would do me the honor.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, placing her hand in his. She was warm, and her skin felt like silk against his. He longed for the time when he could touch far more than her bare hand.

  He escorted her
into the sitting room and then let her guide him to one of the rear doors. Opening it, she led him onto a small veranda, and as Lady Satterfield had said, there was a staircase down to the garden.

  “It’s rather small,” Aquilla said. “The garden—it won’t take us but a few minutes to make a circuit, and that’s if we move at a snail’s pace.”

  It was nearly dark outside. The sky was thick with clouds, obscuring any moonlight. Sconces on the porch cast meager illumination, but it was just enough to pick their way down the stairs.

  He led the way and held her hand as they descended. “I’m afraid we must go slow. It would be a disaster if I tripped.”

  “It’s a good thing it didn’t rain this afternoon. Otherwise, we would’ve had to go downstairs and exit that way. These stairs are quite treacherous if they’re wet.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?” he asked as they neared the bottom.

  “No, but one of the maids slipped last week and had to spend the whole next day in bed, poor thing.”

  He held her hand more tightly and turned his head to look up at her. “I won’t let you fall.”

  “I’m not certain I can trust that assessment given that you aren’t even looking where you are going.” She said the last several words with humor and heat.

  He grinned as he turned his head to take the last two steps, then, when he’d reached the bottom, spun around abruptly while she was still above him. “Forgive me.”

  He set his hands on her waist and lifted her, then swung her around until he set her on the path. There was a sconce on the lower porch that was perfectly placed to light her features. She stared up at him, her lips parted.

  He didn’t take his hands away as he edged closer. “I’ve counted the minutes until we could be alone again.”

  “Have you?” She sounded breathless.

  He nodded, entranced by her beauty, by the spell she’d cast on him. Reluctantly, he took one hand from her waist and reached into his coat. “I have something for you.” He pulled the ring from the small pocket. Taking his other hand from her waist, he found her left hand and held it up into the light. “This belonged to my mother. She wanted my wife to wear it.”