Friendship? My face fevered. “Sorry.”
“I won’t fall, LaCroy. I’m in command, but I’m reasonable. I know the value of a fretting woman.”
Thunder crackled.
A hint of rain perfumed the air.
And the heat of his eyes sizzled like lightning.
“At least you were able to see my regiment before the weather set in. By Jove, we beat the storms.”
So glad he was safe, I thanked his god, too.
My pulse ticked up, tick, tock, rattling like the grandfather clock in the dining room. I was too near the duke with Lionel caught between us. This was very much like our dance at the crib, except he wasn’t moving, and neither was I.
This terrified me, this family moment.
My heart grew used to things too quickly. I moved from the duke, me and Lionel fleeing up the stone steps. “There’s lemonade on the balcony, Your Grace. Let me get you some. You look very heated.”
“More words to me.” The duke smirked with dimples and a touch of a hero’s swagger as he joined me on the balcony. He seemed very steady in his boots, only leaning a little on the crutch.
I poured him Jemina’s beverage, then settled in a chair with Lionel bouncing on my lap.
The duke took the glass I’d offered and gulped it down, his lips puckering like Lionel’s. “Tangy. You don’t like shows of force?”
“I do. I just want you to take care, to take your time. Who else will set Lionel’s onerous schedules? In fact, he’s been fed and is ready to nap. I should go put him down and keep your latest dictates.”
“We can relax his schedule today.” Whipping off his hat, he stashed his gloves inside and set it on the table, then sank into a chair. “It’s nice that you care, Mrs. LaCroy. I don’t think I told you that the other day. I should have. I know I was rude.”
He reached out and smoothed my forehead, his rough thumb slipping across my skin. “I want no creases on that brow on my account.”
My heart went into my throat and stuck there somewhere between being beguiled and stupid. I remembered this breathless feeling. This dizzy rush meant I’d fallen for Colin, now it meant I was stupid, again. I had feelings for the duke.
“Is that a command?”
“Yes.”
“See. Simple answers are best.”
Wincing a little as he shifted his weight, he took Lionel from my arms. The duke looked very good holding my son.
My boy reached up and swatted at the duke’s brooch with the star, the graceful medallion he wore on his ivory sash. That was new. He’d made himself extra fancy for us.
Assured that no one would fall, I lowered my clenched palms to my rust-colored skirts, one of the demure gowns of my old dresses. It was not a full-mourning gown, far from it. I didn’t want to be at the duke’s parade grieving.
With a quick glance to the door, the vacant hall behind us, I thought of my trust documents. Maybe this would be like the nursery and I could leave my son safe with the duke and head to the drawing room.
“Lionel, you have to believe in your abilities in spite of other’s fear or doubts, right, LaCroy?”
I looked at the duke, truly looked into those strong, wintry eyes. “I may be guilty of fretting more for you, because I know of your injury. I’ll admit that. But I’ll always be concerned for your safety. You’re Lionel’s guardian. You should be safe.”
“Lionel, you like medals. Believe in yourself, and you’ll win them. Believe when no one else does, then you always win.”
Winning. Winning. I was sick of the talk, especially when my side kept losing.
The countess and Lord Gantry returned.
“Looking very good on parade, Duke,” she said, taking Lionel from him.
The boy cooed. His smile held dimples, dimples like Repington’s?
Lady Shrewsbury snuggled my baby like he was her kitty. “Lord Gantry, you have two daughters. Are any this small?”
The man’s chest puffed up, his smile broadening as he helped the countess sit. “Once, but now they are three and four. I’ll collect them from my sister next month.”
His lordship looked more at ease. Whatever he’d confessed to the countess seemed to liberate him. Lady Shrewsbury had a calming way about her.
“My dear,” she said as she tapped my hand, “why don’t you go get paper, so we can make a list of the things you need?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The duke held out his hand and blocked my path. “I can provide for her.”
“I’m sure you can.” Shrewsbury poured Lord Gantry a glass of the lemonade. “But she needs some personal things.”
Lifting from his seat, the duke moved to the doorway leading into the house. “There’s nothing I cannot get for her.”
“It’s just paper, sir. You know? The thing you use to make schedules. I can go get it while you sit and have more lovely lemonade.”
He frowned, puckering his lips. “No, thank you. Stay, ma’am.”
“Mrs. LaCroy, go get it,” the countess said. “Duke, sit. She needs things that I know you are familiar with, but I am sure she’d rather you stayed out of her stays.”
“Oh,” The duke said as he mouthed, “stays and corsets.”
The two were giving me orders like I was a compliant rag doll but witnessing the duke murmur about by undergarments was too much. I moved quickly and slipped under his arm. I didn’t touch him, didn’t brush against or wrinkle his pressed jacket or the sweet sashes.
“Quick thing. I’ll follow, Mrs. LaCroy. I have something to ask you.”
The duke caught up, a boot length behind me. There would be no gathering my papers today, not with him giving chase.
Done with being on edge, I stopped, and he bumped into me.
His arm went about my middle as if to steady me. “Sorry.”
I wasn’t. His chest was solid, the hold was nice. His medallion pressed into my spine. The prick of the star’s points might be the only thing keeping me from turning my cheek to his.
“Are you steady now, lass?”
“Are you sorry to hold me, sir?”
The duke released me. “No. Yes. We must talk.”
Why talk now when I was all ruddy and bothered and sure to make a fool of myself? I scooted behind the marble gods for protection. “You go get the countess some foolscap. It only takes one of us. One.”
When it seemed as if he’d heed, I blew out a breath and sank against the hidden door.
Jemina was right about me liking the duke and about the chandelier. Someone had raised it without all of its glass globes. The job was half-done. The velvet sleeve covering the pulleys was pulled down, exposing the mechanisms. Very sloppy.
The duke barged into the nook. “Mrs. LaCroy, we need to talk now.”
It was inconvenient for him to tower over me with his wonderful height covering me in shadows. Fine job of Agassou! No protection at all from the duke’s pretty eyes. “What do you want, Your Grace?”
“Admit that I’m not reckless.”
“No.”
His head reared back, almost knocking into the sandaled heel of the lesser god. “Will you admit that I held my seat well? I was good on my mount. Shires are a gentle, sturdy breed, smooth in their stride, like me.”
“You didn’t fall. Great.”
“I saw you observing, LaCroy. You could have more enthusiasm.”
Were observing and fretting the same thing? I nodded. “Perhaps.”
“Well, you’re not one for flattery. Or do you simply loathe being wrong?”
“Both.”
He raked a palm through his hair, the shift stopping on blonder locks. His distance remained respectable and aggravating, not the caress of before. He stood close enough to have his ears boxed but far enough for me to admire how well he looked in his uniform, the shine of his brooch.
I covered my eyes. “Your Grace, is this chat done?”
He sighed, his breath citrusy like an island breeze. “At least that wasn’t a one-word
answer.”
“Yes.”
The duke sighed again. His fingers clenched, then slacked to his sides. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“You want me to flatter you? Why, Duke, you look r-really suited for the saddle.”
He glared at me, his eyes frowning, his noble chin elevated, seeming formal and above it all. “Is that the best you can do? You were more convincing of actually caring posing as a footman.”
Maybe it was the challenge in his voice. Maybe it was days of being forced to agree to his rules for my son. Or maybe I wanted him to notice I wasn’t a rag doll. I shouldn’t be ordered about. I wasn’t going to be put on a shelf like Colin had done. He assumed I was too delicate to be seen in Town, anywhere away from Hamlin. Lies.
I grabbed Repington by the sash, the one that crossed his wide chest, and shoved him a little against the gods. I hoped they minded their business as I put my palms to his lapel, massaging the rough wool between my fingers.
In a low voice, sultry like a singer, I said, “I’ve never seen anyone so skillful with his mount. Your Grace, I’m overcome in admiration.”
His brow lifted. Did he see me now? Was he shocked?
“That’s your best, ma’am?”
Could I do better? I stepped closer. Our shadows entwined. I skimmed my pinkie down the brass buttons of his jacket—plink, plink, plink. “I’m not sure what my best is. I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore.”
His smirk went away, and his eyes had darkened to mirrored glass, but in those reflective pools, I saw a wild woman, a wanton one. And it looked wonderful to be free.
“Has your widowhood liberated you, or has working for me stirred rebellion under that mobcap?”
“Both.”
“One-word answers!”
I stilled my fingers on the brooch Lionel had touched. “Is this what you want, another sycophant to be in awe of you, your power?”
“No.”
“Oh, now it’s your turn for one-word answers.” I leaned into him and put my cheek so close to his I could feel his breath. I knew he felt my panting. I knew I was slipping from pretend to that dark place of need I long denied.
But this wasn’t Colin who’d turn me away.
I think the duke wouldn’t flinch if my lips met his.
Footsteps sounded overhead.
Pushing back on my heels, I retreated. “The house is filling, Your Grace. Please have your soldiers finish their household duties. They didn’t replenish all the glass globes on the chandelier and left the ladder in the hall.”
His jaw tensed, and he put his hand over mine. “So you’re done with me? A few questions, a request for truth, and then you send me away. Errands, madam, over an admission that you were wrong. I thought you were more honest than this.”
“Errands are tasks to be added to a schedule. Your orderly heart should love it.”
“Anytime you’re ready for me to school you about orders and schedules, I’ll willingly indulge. Do pull me away when there’s a lot less distractions. I don’t like to be interrupted.”
“Well, that’s impossible with soldiers milling about and Lionel needing me. Do you have a one-word answer for false promises?”
He lifted my palm and kissed my knuckles. His hands were rough, but his lips were gentle, such contrasts against my skin.
“I’m thinking of another one-word answer for you. Tease.”
“Tease?” I shook free. “A tease is what men do, tease of love and happy forever when they only mean for a moment.”
A crackle sounded above, sharp and quick like a branch breaking. The house settling or was that thunder? “I should go get Lionel before the weather turns.”
The duke’s mouth opened, more sweet breath released along with a deeper groan. “I’d never tease you. Never.”
“But you have others, Lady Shrewsbury says so. How many have you led to believe in the sweeping power of a moment? How many have you made follow rules that you later broke?”
I smoothed his wrinkling sash. “Duke, I want to be you. The one with the power. The one controlling so many destinies. The first to withdraw when I tired of playing games.”
I’d silenced a rake with my stays in place. I curtsied. “If you will excuse me, I must go retrieve the paper per Lady Shrewsbury’s request.”
“No. I’ll withdraw first. It’s my paper. It’s the least I can do to set up a task to gather your stays. It’s a tangible thing, since you think only lies and games are my forte.”
He took a step. Then turned back, planting his crutch, the thud matching the storm’s moaning outside. “Have you considered it’s possible to have a changed heart? Can a rake choose to reform?”
“A man can choose anything today. Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is tomorrow. Thunderstorms come and go.”
“No. Hearts can change. A man can be saved from himself. I was saved. I saw a woman, a beautiful Spanish peasant—”
“Duke, I really don’t want to hear of your exploits.”
“Listen. Everyone, including myself, discounted her as my lieutenant’s indulgence, but this woman . . .”
I saw a hard lump go down as he cleared his throat. “This brave lass . . . she picked up her slain husband’s sword and mortally charged the enemy for him, for the memory of him. I wasn’t fast enough to stop her. She died for him. She sacrificed everything for their love.”
His voice grew lower. This was no jest, but something he carried with him in his chest.
“Their baby, I had to deliver to her parents. He will grow up with neither of them and will never know the depth of her sacrifice.”
A gasp left my lips, my feet chilling as I stood in my own hypocrisy. I’d expected a clever retort, not something so raw and anguished that I’d be left blinking, breathless, even a little more broken in my spirit.
“That type of devotion is never earned by a man who’s not honest in his dealings, never given to one who’s faithless. I want to be the kind of man who can engender that kind of noble passion in a woman.”
I was caught, caught by the sadness in his voice. I’d tried to discount him as a pretty rake, a schedule-happy dictator—anything to justify or diminish the draw I felt for him. I had to admit that he was all of this and none of it. I hated that I’d made him feel less than what he was . . . honorable, and he’d chosen to be honorable to me.
The duke turned to the hall. “Go on onto the balcony. I’ll bring both ink and paper. I’ve a correspondence to send before the storm comes. It will rain soon. I feel it in my bones.”
He walked away, heading toward the abandoned ladder.
I stood alone in the nook, shamed, listening to the distant rumble of the coming weather.
Snap.
A loud pop sounded as if something stretched and broke.
I searched overhead and found nothing, then glanced at the duke. He closed the ladder and leaned it on its side.
Could someone truly turn from his past?
Could I turn from mine? I didn’t trust anyone but Jemina and the countess. A good man should be added to that list.
I had to apologize. “Your Grace, wait.”
He pivoted on the slick marble tiles. “Yes.”
And that’s when I saw it.
The tremors of the lights above. The glass prisms strung on the chandelier shifted, casting shooting stars about the hall. The heavy wrought iron fixture jerked and descended a few inches.
It would fall.
The chandelier would drop and crush the duke.
There was no time, no one-word warning to shout.
I ran as fast as I could and hit the man at top speed. The blow sent him reeling forward, and I fastened my arms about him to keep him moving away from the danger.
Snap. Snap. Rip. That had to be the pulley ropes.
I couldn’t tell. My face burrowed deeper against the duke’s shoulder. I kept pushing us forward.
We crashed to the floor, my head hitting the marble. The world behind me exploded. Glass bits
shot at us, stinging my fingers, lacing into his hair, cutting his smart uniform. The world blurred as our momentum turned us over and over.
My arms stayed locked about him.
Dust covered us.
The thunder of his heart, my heart, became distant.
I stopped breathing.
CHAPTER 18
THE LAST LETTER
I beat my hands and tried to awaken, but I was trapped. He passed beside me. His haunted hazel eyes were so close to my face.
A chill covered my skin as I followed Colin.
He locked himself in a room. I heard shouts, threats, murderous threats.
When I opened the door, he turned to me, his face twisted, ghastly twisted in grief. Then, I heard Colin. His voice was faint but growing louder. “Your fault. Your fault, you killed me.”
Shaking, sobbing, I opened my eyes.
A candle burned, but everything was a blur. I blinked until I could focus.
Breathing made everything hurt.
Nothing seemed right. I was a ship too far from the shore. Tangling in a bedsheet, I swam upstream, swinging my arms until I sat upright.
I wasn’t dead or caught somewhere in between, was I?
Not with aches like this. I had to be among the living.
But where was I?
A window dressing in fine muslin and sheers sat open, blowing cold air into the room.
This wasn’t the bare servants’ quarters in the attic.
Rubbing my jaw, I studied the walls, the jonquil yellow paint.
Not Bedlam.
One of the bedchambers of the second floor? This wasn’t right at all.
The sun wasn’t outside the window. I saw stars in my vision and in the dark sky.
It was the dead of night.
The fallen chandelier.
The duke and I escaping its collapse. Did we both escape?
The bandage on my hand, the lump on the back of my skull said I wasn’t unscathed.
The duke? How was he?
And where was Lionel?
I gripped my neck. The high collar of my rust gown was gone. White muslin wrapped my limbs, not Bedlam’s chains.
My heart pounded as if it had become a drum. The musicians in me beat it hard and crazy. I had to get up and make sense of things.
A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby Page 15
