Misleading a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  “She’s a grown woman. I’m sure she can manage with a handful of servants for a few days. If something happens, we’ll send for the magistrate. He could be here in two days.” MacGruder peered over his shoulder at Nick.

  Shaking his head, Nick couldn’t figure out how she had such a hold on him. She’d been rude when he’d first met her, and haughty at times. Then she’d sent her Wallflower friends to spy on him. She always asked questions he wouldn’t answer and she never acted like he was a duke. “I thought all women wanted to marry a duke.”

  “But not this one?” MacGruder was far too intuitive.

  “I don’t know. It seems she wants to know the man behind the title.” His stomach growled and he regretted turning down tea, which likely would have come with biscuits at least.

  “I’m liking her more and more.”

  “My life is not for public display.” Nick slammed his hand on the edge of the sink, cutting the palm. Blood seeped from the tiny wound.

  MacGruder got up much faster than one would have thought possible. He grabbed a towel from the cupboard and handed it to Nick. “Don’t drip blood on my floor.”

  Nick pressed the cut and held tight.

  “It seems to me”—MacGruder paused—“you’ll have to trust the woman you intend to marry, or why bother? If you just intend to marry someone to breed sons for you, you’ve picked the wrong lady. Now, that’s just my opinion.”

  “Once she finds out the kind of man I really am, she’ll wish she had run from the start.” Wishing he could change the past wouldn’t make it so.

  Deep creases marked MacGruder’s frown. “You did what needed doing. No one likes the memory of war, but many of us live with it just the same.”

  The old groundskeeper had been a batman in his youth, and served several officers before being wounded and returning home.

  “She’d be better off with some simple gentleman, with little to regret besides a bad gambling habit.” Nick wished it wasn’t true, but his past always came back to haunt him.

  “Best to let the lady decide if that’s the case. Women have a sense about such things.” MacGruder ambled toward the door and opened it. “You’d better get yourself back to the house before you miss dinner. Maybe clean up some too. You smell like a horse.”

  Nick laughed. “Glad you’re still alive, old man.”

  Raising a brow, MacGruder said, “I imagine my time will come soon enough. Now you go and be nice to that lady. She’s gone to a lot of trouble to get you here. The least you can do is listen to what she has to say.”

  Nick rushed through the snow. Why had she gone to all this trouble? Perhaps he should take MacGruder’s advice and listen. Maybe he could forget his past and be the kind of man a woman like Faith needed.

  Chapter 4

  It was full dark and the snow still fell steadily. Faith waited in the salon, but hadn’t seen Nick since walking out on him a few hours earlier. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. It had been a perfect opportunity to ask questions, but he was so stubborn.

  She sipped a sherry, but she had never cared for the drink. She only took a glass because it was expected. It was the reason she did a lot of things in her daily life, to fit in and be accepted. She took no pleasure in most of them.

  Tricking Nicholas into meeting her at Parvus Castle was another matter. She felt wicked and right for her attempt to find out if they suited. Sighing at how backward her thoughts were, she took another sip of sherry.

  Since there was the probability that Nicholas would leave as soon as the storm passed, Faith had dressed in her finest gown for dinner. She’d not packed a great many formal clothes, but the shimmering gold silk gown matched her eyes and showed her figure to its best advantage. She’d forgone any lace around the low neckline in favor of letting her breasts push up in what she hoped was an enticing way.

  Of course, she’d been sitting with her back straight and her chin arched up toward the fire for fifteen minutes, waiting. The pose had her back and neck aching, and Nicholas had not shown himself.

  Putting down the crystal glass, she pressed her hands into the deep red cushion of the settee and arched until the pain in her lower back lessened. Closing her eyes with the pleasure of releasing stiff muscles, she sighed.

  A low moan from the doorway startled her eyes open.

  In a black suit with a crisp white shirt and cravat, Nicholas stood just inside the room, his expression so calm and indifferent that Faith must have imagined the sound of a moment before.

  She stood and curtsied. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  “Lady Faith.” He bowed. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

  “Not long,” she said.

  A white bandage wrapped his hand. “Have you injured yourself?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Small penance for my bad temper. It’s little more than a scratch.”

  Curious, but respectful of his obvious desire to downplay his injury, she asked, “Did you find something to entertain you this afternoon?”

  He crossed to the cart in the corner, where brandy and sherry had been set out with several glasses. He poured himself a glass of brandy. “I visited with the groundskeeper. I have known him for several years and he is an interesting character.”

  Faith had yet to meet Mr. MacGruder, but she would make a point to seek him out as soon as the weather improved. Perhaps he could lend some insight into her duke’s disposition. Though, the fact that a duke would go to visit one of the servants was a good sign. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting him as yet.”

  “MacGruder was impressed that you traveled with only one small trunk.” Nicholas smiled to devastating effect.

  Steeling her heart against the effects of his good looks, Faith took a breath. “I am not as needy as some ladies, but I am not without the need of creature comforts. I brought what was necessary for my own happiness.”

  She thought he might ask what things she’d brought, but he sipped his brandy and considered her without remark.

  “Cook tells me dinner will be ready shortly.”

  With a nod, he sat across from her. He always chose the seat farthest from her, as if she might give him the plague. “I’m curious to see if she is a better cook than the last. MacGruder thinks so, but he is happy to leave the responsibility of feeding himself to another, regardless of the palatability of the fare.”

  Faith laughed. He’d made a joke, an actual joke. Perhaps that was a step in the right direction. “We shall see.”

  “Is the sherry not to your liking?” He gave a nod toward her abandoned glass.

  If she expected him to tell the truth, she would have to do the same. “I do not care for sherry.”

  “Then why did you pour it?” He lifted both brows.

  Taking a deep breath, she thought of how best to answer without sounding like a ninny. “Young ladies are supposed to enjoy a sherry.”

  Nicholas leaned forward. “And…” he prompted.

  “And I try to fit into society’s guidelines at least on the surface.” She did sound like an idiot.

  “Luring me here was not very conformist.” He relaxed against the wingback chair’s cream damask and watched her with the intensity of a hawk summing up his prey.

  Her heart pounded and she pressed on. “No. That is the real me pushing her way through. Drinking sherry and being polite to people like Mary Yates is the person my parents sent me away to school to become. I want to make them happy, so I try to appear as the daughter they wished for.”

  It was impossible to tell if he was frowning because of what she revealed or for some other reason.

  Jamie popped his head in the door. His freckled face was washed clean and he’d put on a brown jacket. His dusty brown hair was still mussed and long, but he smiled and tugged on his new finery. “Dinner is served.”

  Standing, Faith smiled at
the boy, who puffed out his chest and grinned. “Well done, Jamie.”

  Jamie’s chest puffed up even more and he stood straighter.

  Offering his arm, Nicholas led them across to the dining room. He tousled Jamie’s hair as they passed the salon door and smiled warmly at the child.

  “I’ve taken Rumple to the kitchen so he won’t be botherin’ you while you eat.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you, Jamie.” Faith delighted in the youth and enthusiasm of both Jamie and Thea. It was nice to be around people unwearied by life.

  The table had been set for two, with one place setting at the head and another to the right.

  Nicholas stopped a few feet away from the settings. “This is your party, Lady Faith. Which would you prefer?”

  She pointed to the chair on the right. “This will do, Your Grace.”

  He held out the chair and leaned in as she sat. “Perhaps we might dispense with the formal titles since we are alone here at Parvus?”

  Once he was seated, she settled her pulse and asked, “What would you prefer to be called?”

  “Nick would do nicely, if you don’t find the notion too upsetting.”

  Thea arrived with a tray, which she placed on the sideboard. Then one at a time she served them each a bowl of soup that smelled divine. The aroma of spices and rich meats filled the dining room.

  Nick’s stomach rumbled loudly. He laughed. “I believe I regret not accepting your offer of tea this afternoon, but now that I see this, Cook, I’m glad I waited. It smells delicious.”

  Blushing, Thea made a quick curtsy and rushed from the dining room.

  The soup tasted as good as it smelled. The bits of meat might have been venison, but they were tender and must have been cooked for hours to have created the rich warm flavors along with salt and thyme.

  “This is delicious,” Faith said.

  Nick’s eyes were filled with the delight of the rapturous soup. “I don’t know that I’ve ever had better.”

  “Then Thea’s cooking is superior to the cook who retired?” She couldn’t help her joy at seeing him so pleased with the food. It made her wish she had cooked it herself. It was strange to suddenly want to please him, or anyone beyond her parents.

  “Compared to this, Cookie’s offerings cannot even be called food, Lady Faith.” He chuckled and took another spoonful of the soup.

  A warmth flushed her cheeks at the reminder of his offer to use familiar names and the fact that the food had made her forget to accept his offer. “Faith. You may call me Faith.”

  The rest of the meal was equally scrumptious. It was so good, Faith’s plan to learn more about Nick had gone forgotten until a lovely pudding of plums and honey was set before them. “I suppose I should apologize for luring you here?”

  With his spoon halfway to his mouth, he stopped. “Only if you are sorry, and I think you may have already done so.”

  She couldn’t look away from the wonder on his face as he ate the warm, sweet confection. The sight tightened things inside Faith that she hadn’t known existed. “You were too angry then. I thought perhaps now, you might accept my regrets and perhaps an offer of friendship to begin again?”

  Putting down his spoon, he stared a long moment. “You want us to be friends?”

  “It would be a start.” It was hard to breathe when he gave her his full attention. Miss Agatha Wormbattle had always warned her to be careful what she wished for, and finally she understood what her old schoolmistress was talking about. Nick’s full regard was daunting and churned up desires she’d not considered.

  “Tell me why you arranged all of this. And not some pretty story you use to make this seem normal. The real reason.” He folded his long elegant fingers together and laid them on the edge of the table. Relaxed, but ready to flee at any moment. Nick was like a tiger ready to do whatever was necessary for his survival.

  Setting her spoon on the table, Faith considered his question. He already knew more about her than she knew of him. She’d given much away when she told him about the sherry. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but you must promise to answer my questions as well.”

  The corners of his sensual mouth turned down and he focused on his hands for a long moment. “There are things about me and my past that are best left in shadow, Faith.”

  It was more than he’d ever shared before. At least he wasn’t pretending his past was that of a normal sedentary duke of the realm. “I can see where this might be difficult for you. Perhaps you should answer any difficult questions honestly but simply. I can wait for details for when you and I have established some trust.”

  Lifting his head, he met her stare. His dark lashes made the blue of his eyes deeper, and emotions made them more intense. “Tell me why you brought me here, and then I shall decide if I wish to play your game of questions and answers.”

  She supposed someone would have to give a little, and it should be her since she had tricked and manipulated him. “I can be quite stubborn.”

  “Is that your response?” He rolled his eyes.

  “No. I’m only saying that my stubborn tendencies get in the way of good behavior at times. When my mother told me I was to marry a duke, I should have been elated, but I knew nothing about you. She had been communicating for months and not mentioned anything about it. Then suddenly you were in London and we were to marry.” Faith wasn’t sure how to continue.

  “Do you not wish to marry?”

  “I would like to have a family.”

  He hesitated. “Was there something about me you disliked?”

  “Not in the way you think. This is a long story, Nick. Perhaps we should return to the salon.” Her stomach knotted at the memories and confidences she was about to relate.

  Rising, he gave an encouraging smile before helping her out of her chair. They walked together into the salon and Faith sat near the fire. The storm still raged and left the castle cold and damp. Jamie had built a fine blaze and she was glad to rub the chill out of her arms.

  Nick sat in the chair opposite and waited.

  Rumple bounded into the salon, barking and tail-wagging.

  Jane, the lady’s maid Faith had brought from West Lane, rushed in after. “I’m sorry, my lady. He got out of the kitchen and wouldn’t stop hunting for you.”

  The ball of fluffy puppy jumped into Faith’s lap and she laughed, avoiding his enthusiastic kisses. “It’s all right, Jane. Leave him here. I’ll take him up to bed with me.”

  Jane hesitated. “I had hoped to put the boy to bed. He’s quite exhausted.”

  Nick said, “I will see the pup has his time outside before we retire.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. If you need anything, I will be helping Cook in the kitchen and to settle the house for the night.”

  “We’re fine, Jane. Thank you.” Faith waited until her maid fled before she settled into scratching Rumple’s ears and returned her attention to the past.

  “To give you the honest answer you deserve, I have to tell you things that are not really my place to divulge. I will ask that you keep these confidences to yourself.” Faith worried over the wisdom of trusting a man who kept his own life under such a tight veil, but there was no way to be honest and not tell him everything. If she only told her part of the story, he would never understand.

  “Secrets are something I am quite good at keeping, Faith.” He had the good grace to give her a brief smile.

  “You already know that my friends—Mercy, Poppy, and Aurora—and I all went to the Wormbattle School for Young Ladies in Switzerland. It’s an unusual way to educate a daughter and it was meant as a punishment for my willful behavior as a girl. It turned out to be the best three years of my life. When I met those three, everything fell into place. I was happy.

  “Aurora had a letter in our final weeks at school. Her father had arranged for her to marr
y the Earl of Radcliff. We were all very excited about the first of our group to get married and it was a lively ride home.”

  Nick observed her intently as she told her story. She couldn’t tell if he was picking apart her story or just curious.

  She drew in a long breath and steadied her heart. Her movement gave the tired pup in her lap cause to wiggle about, so she placed him on the floor near her feet. He settled on his paws with a yawn. Faith brushed the fur from her skirt. “Within a fortnight, Aurora was married. A month later, we all knew what a terrible mistake it had been. That was the first time Bertram Sherbourn struck Aurora. It was a battered wrist and a bruise under her left eye. She was embarrassed and blamed herself for his bad behavior.

  “The rest of us, blamed him. We couldn’t protect her, and the beatings grew worse. Bertram drank most of the time and gambled incessantly. Those hobbies took him out of the house, for which we were grateful. Then he would come home and rape his wife and beat her bloody. There was no way to stop it and all we could do was put her back together and call the doctor when needed.”

  “That animal should have been horsewhipped,” Nick mumbled, his fists clenched on his thighs.

  “Yes, well, men can get away with a great deal when a wife is considered property and the character of the man leads him to believe that is all she is.” Faith had to take several breaths to gain control of her temper. She’d cried out all her tears for Aurora over the three years of her marriage; Faith had no more on that subject.

  Nick remained silent and attentive, seeming to understand she needed a moment to gather her wits before she could continue.

  “When that monster died last year, we all relaxed for the first time since their wedding. Aurora had survived, at least in body. We also made a pact that no other Wallflower would suffer her same fate.”

  He sighed. “I can see how your mother arranging a marriage to a man you’d never met might have caused you some trepidation. I would never hit a woman.” His face registered something ugly. Some memory he’d rather not have conjured. “At least as long as she was not trying to do me harm.”