The Grace of a Duke

by Linda Rae Sande

  Another footman opened the door and Lady Charlotte, unaware she’d been summoned and carrying a bundle of fabric swatches, stepped in. There was surprise in her eyes as she noted Joshua was not at his desk but rather near the fireplace with a man she did not immediately recognize. Joshua was already standing, and the other man, apparently caught off guard by her arrival, was quickly getting to his feet. “Oh, pardon me, Your Grace. I did not know you had a caller.” She curtsied and turned to go, as if she thought their meeting was private.

  “Your presence is requested, Lady Charlotte,” Joshua called out, schooling his features so that Gisborn wouldn’t notice his look of adoration. Charlotte looked positively stunning just standing there regarding the two of them. He’d already seen her in the pale green sprigged muslin gown she wore now. She had taken his breath away when she arrived for breakfast very early that morning, smiling brightly as she entered the breakfast parlor, curtseying to his awkward bow – he had stood so quickly, his chair nearly toppled backwards – and then she quickly moved to his side so that she could kiss him on the cheek as she made her way to a chair. He’d been so very stunned that he could only manage a “Good morning” as she took her seat.

  “It’s an absolutely glorious day,” she’d said, apparently not aware that gray clouds were threatening from the south, and then wondered if perhaps they could go for a ride later?

  He’d felt heat wash over his face and his loins tighten, stunned by her kiss and very aware of the light, fresh scent that wafted around him as she moved to take a seat at the table. A thought struck him then, of what his life would be like with her in it now that he had decided he would marry her. Every morning would be this bright, he realized. She was like sunshine embodied, breezing into the room as if she could control the interior weather, her smile providing light and her scent the very air he breathed. “Your back would not hurt you too much?” he had replied, his brow furrowing a bit as he regarded her, remembering her as she stood naked in the copper tub with the bright red gash across her back but otherwise looking like a Venus rising from the ocean. Charlotte was directing a footman as to what she wanted on her breakfast plate, completely unaware of how aroused she’d made him in just the half-minute she’d been in the room.

  “My maid put a new bandage on it this morning, and I felt very little pain,” she’d countered, giving the footman a nod as he placed a full plate of eggs, ham and toast in front of her. “And it will do you good to get out for a bit,” she’d added, reaching out a hand to touch his sleeve. He’d agreed to the ride then, not feeling the least bit henpecked by her comment. And then he’d asked about her project. She spoke of the rooms for which decisions had been made and where painting was underway, her expression making it clear she rather doubted he was even interested. He was attentive, though, expressing satisfaction that apricot would be the primary color for the downstairs salon since the vicar’s sister seemed partial to the color.

  And then, before he knew it, she was done with breakfast and asking to be excused as she had to meet with the foreman about the guest suites on the second floor. She left the room much the way she’d entered, although the air seemed to have left with her, Joshua noticed as he regarded his half-eaten breakfast and unconsciously lifted a hand to touch his cheek where she had kissed him.

  Marriage to Charlotte Bingham would be in his best interest, he remembered thinking as he’d finished his breakfast. She looked now even more fetching then she had that morning.

  What would she look like in a few moments?

  “It is you who have a caller, Lady Charlotte,” Joshua stated as he watched the beautiful blonde woman move into the room, saw the surprise in her face when he made his comment, and saw something else in her features, as well.

  Recognition.

  “Why, Mr. Forster, what a pleasant surprise!” she said happily, moving quickly toward the man with her right hand held out as if she intended to shake his hand. Gisborn caught it in his own but lifted it to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his lips. Charlotte’s breath caught in surprise.

  “Lady Charlotte, ‘tis so very good to see you again,” Gisborn said, lowering her hand but hanging on to it entirely too long.

  Charlotte’s face took on a pink blush as she pulled her hand away and buried it under the pile of fabric swatches she cradled against her hip. She felt her face flush as she noticed Henry Forster’s intense gaze. “What brings you to Wisborough Oaks, Mr. Forster?” she wondered, carefully taking a step back and to the side when she remembered that the duke was somewhere behind her.

  “You do, milady,” Gisborn replied with a nod.

  At Charlotte’s upraised eyebrows and quick glance in his direction, Joshua cleared his throat. “Lady Charlotte Bingham, may I present Henry Forster, the Earl of Gisborn?” he stated formally. He unconsciously held his breath while he carefully watched her reaction, watched while her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’.

  “Gisborn?” she repeated in disbelief. She visibly swallowed. She blinked. She seemed to have trouble breathing. “Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea you were an earl,” she apologized with a shake of her head. He’s not the old, decrepit man, she found herself thinking, wondering when her father had made the arrangements for her to be betrothed to this Earl of Gisborn. “When we last met …”

  “I was still just Henry Forster,” Gisborn finished for her, his hands moving to clasp together behind his back as he stood watching her. She was more beautiful than he remembered; something about her bearing was more regal, her hairstyle more mature. She will make a perfect countess, he thought happily. “I recently inherited the title from my late uncle,” he explained as he watched Charlotte sink into an adjacent chair, her face showing she was still awestruck by the news. Once she was seated, both Gisborn and Joshua reseated themselves, and both carefully watched her as they did so. Joshua thought she appeared as if she might faint and wondered why as he settled into his chair. When had they last met? he wondered, not having seen the man at any ton balls the season before.

  “Despite a wife and seventy years on this earth, he died without issue,” Gisborn explained lightly, “And, so, I find myself in a position of some fortune and … responsibility.” He was leaning forward a bit in his chair, his entire attention on Charlotte as he made his explanation.

  Charlotte nodded her understanding. What had he said about what brought him calling today?

  You do, he’d said.

  Had he come all the way from Oxfordshire? Her stomach seemed to do a flip that she hoped was not visible to the two men who regarded her. “And why is it that I bring you to Wisborough Oaks, my lord?” she asked then, her father’s words echoing in her memory. He’d threatened her with a betrothal to the Earl of Gisborn, but he’d implied that the earl was elderly and in need of an heir. Henry Forster was by no means old. He was maybe thirty, she thought as she tried to remember him from when her family spent summers at Ellsworth Park. She was so much younger – they had never played together, but as a young girl, she could remember thinking him to be quite handsome. Then, when she’d seen him at Lady Worthington’s musicale last year, she’d been surprised to realize he was still just as handsome, although the planes of his face were more severe than they had been when he was a youth. She regarded him now with a bit of trepidation. Attractive, masculine, very … dangerous, she considered. She hadn’t thought that about him when she’d met him at Lady Worthington’s last February. His dark hair, which featured a lock that fell onto his forehead just above his right eye, was cut so it barely touched his cravat. Arched eyebrows and long sideburns gave his face a stern appearance, which, when he wasn’t smiling, could be considered menacing. But when he was smiling, as he was doing now, he appeared friendly. A long, straight nose, not quite an aristocrat’s nose since it lacked a hook, led to lips that could be quite kissable. His heavy lidded eyes were surprisingly blue, their color so intense it was hard to look directly at him without feeling as if you were cau
ght in a trap. His trap.

  As Charlotte was feeling this very instant.

  “According to the agreement I made with your father last week, you are my betrothed,” he said gently, his face coloring up a bit as he made the declaration. He dared a glance at Joshua, wondering if the duke would interrupt or otherwise counter his explanation. “I was … concerned when I discovered you had left London after your father’s hospitalization. I was sure I would find you at his bedside,” Gisborn continued quietly.

  Charlotte chanced a quick look at Joshua before returning her attention to Gisborn. Caught in a trap, indeed, she thought as she wondered how to reply. “I understand my mother spends her days at my father’s bedside. Since I am estranged from him, I find it would be a waste of my time to do so. As to a betrothal, my lord, I am already betrothed to His Grace,” she motioned in Joshua’s direction, “And have been since I was three years old. I do not believe it was … suitable for my father to promise me to another,” she stammered. “I am very sorry he has wasted your time. I do hope this … has not cost you,” she added, suddenly worried as to what lengths Gisborn had gone to discover her location and to travel to Wisborough Oaks. She dared another glance in Joshua’s direction. His facial expression was entirely unreadable, but his posture suggested he was a caged animal ready to attack – just as soon as the doors were opened.

  Gisborn straightened in his chair and Joshua followed suit. “Your father was quite insistent that you be married to me,” Gisborn countered, his voice taking on a tone one might use with a stubborn child. “Indeed, he has already signed over the deed to your family’s estate in Oxfordshire,” he reasoned, pulling out a folded packet of papers from his coat pocket.

  Charlotte gasped at this bit of news. “How dare he?” she whispered, her brows furrowing until there was a line between them. Whatever could her father be thinking to simply give away Ellsworth Park? “Forgive me. I have spent my entire life learning how to be the wife of a duke, but my lessons did not include how to handle dual betrothals.”

  The earl spread his hands through the air in front of him. “I am sure you must know that a betrothal made in the past is forfeit when another is made after it,” Gisborn stated, his tone suggesting a hint of superiority, as if he was proud of having gained something that a duke once possessed.

  Joshua noted the tone of Gisborn’s voice and turned his attention to Charlotte. “Were you present for the betrothal to Gisborn?” he asked gently.

  Charlotte eyes, downcast for the past several moments, looked up and found his. They were bright with unshed tears, and he wondered why. When she’d come into the room, she’d seemed most pleased, happy, even, to see Gisborn, offering her hand as if they were dear friends. He now wondered how much they still knew of one another. He thought perhaps she should be happy about Gisborn’s news of their betrothal – perhaps she was – it meant she was released from her duty to wed the Duke of Chichester.

  To wed me.

  Now, as he watched the interplay between the two, he realized that she couldn’t have known of her father’s more recent agreement to marry her off to the earl. If she had known, why would she come to Wisborough Oaks?

  “I was not present,” she said with a shake of her head. “My lord’s announcement today is the first I have heard of such an arrangement.”

  Joshua turned his attention back to Gisborn. “I am sure you must know that a betrothal made without one of the parties present is not binding,” he stated evenly, feeling a sense of triumph he could not explain.

  Gisborn’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger, but it was Charlotte who suddenly straightened. “And I am sure you both must know that betrothals are no longer binding in England,” she said, doing her best to suppress a sob. She swallowed hard and then took a deep breath. “If you will excuse me,” she added, rising from her chair so quickly the two men were caught unawares. They struggled to stand up. “I have work to do.” Charlotte was out the door before either man could respond.

  Joshua regarded Gisborn for only a moment before the angry earl cocked his head to one side. “Whatever does she mean, ‘I have work to do’?” he bellowed, waving one arm to indicate Charlotte’s sudden departure.

  Sighing, Joshua did his best to calm his own nerves, a trait he’d become very good at over the past few days. “She is in charge of choosing the decor and furnishings for the rebuilt part of Wisborough Oaks, and she is trying very hard to stay ahead of the construction crew,” he said by way of explanation. “My foreman seems to think she should open her own business and hire herself out for this kind of work,” he added conversationally, knowing the comment and the tone of his voice would only annoy the earl. He was not disappointed to see Gisborn’s mouth drop open in shock at the suggestion that a lady turn to trade in order to make a living.

  “The devil!” Gisborn cursed in disgust. “I do hope you put him in his place!”

  Joshua sighed and decided to change the subject. “Do you have arrangements to stay the night anywhere?” he asked quietly.

  Gisborn lowered his gaze, thinking he was being dismissed. Charlotte had made her point very clear – at the moment, she didn’t seem inclined to want to marry either of the men who had claims to her. Gisborn knew he could not force her into a marriage, nor would he do so. But he did not want to simply give up. “I will take my leave of you now and see to accommodations in town,” he stated, nodding to Joshua.

  “I believe there may be an extra bedchamber available somewhere in this house,” Joshua stated suddenly, feeling the need to offer the earl a room. “Please accept my hospitality,” he urged when Gisborn gave him a surprised look. He knew he would have to take Charlotte aside later and explain his reasoning for making the offer.

  “That is very kind of you, Your Grace. I … I accept, of course,” Gisborn replied hesitantly, obviously humbled by the offer. But he thought it best to keep himself in close proximity if for no other reason than an opportunity to press his case with Charlotte.

  Gates stood near the library door. “If you’ll follow me, my lord, I’ll take you to your room.” As Gisborn moved to join Gates, a knock sounded at the library door. “That will be Lady Charlotte returning,” Joshua said before calling out, “Come in!”

  Gisborn’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “How …?” The footman opened the door and, as Joshua expected, Charlotte entered, still carrying the fabric swatches she held during their discussion. The men bowed and she curtsied in turn. “Please excuse my intrusion, Your Grace,” she turned to Gisborn, “My lord.” She returned her attention to Joshua and walked toward him. “I really must ask you about your preference of the primary fabric for the new master suite,” she said as she moved to stand at his side, her entire demeanor suggesting the earlier discussion hadn’t even taken place. “I’ve narrowed it down to these three, and given the other selections for the room, any of these would be suitable.”

  She held out three different fabrics, all very elegant and all in colors that Joshua found quite pleasing. He found himself wondering if she liked them or just thought that he might. Joshua kept his voice low as he replied, “If you were to enter a master suite, say, because your husband had requested your presence therein, which fabric would put you most at ease, my lady?” The scent from her hair was suddenly in his nostrils, and he inhaled slowly, remembering how she smelled and what she’d felt like pressed up against his bare body just two nights ago, what she’d felt like pressed up against him last night. I should have ruined her, he thought suddenly, and then scolded himself for the childish reaction.

  Charlotte’s breath caught, her face coloring to that familiar shade that he’d found so fetching when he watched as her wound was stitched up by the doctor. “Your Grace,” she whispered, swallowing nervously and wanting so much to admonish him for his impropriety. Then a thought struck her, helping to tamp down her feeling of anger towards the duke. Was he suggesting that he expected to ask her to join him in the suite at some point? That he
would ask for her hand, despite Gisborn’s claim and the fact that her family’s lands in Oxfordshire had apparently already been signed over to the earl? If so, then why was the earl still here? And why hadn’t Joshua asked for her hand? Why hadn’t he ruined her when he had the chance? She dropped her eyes to the swatches and made a decision as to which one she wanted. Lifting her hand to indicate a dark navy velvet, she was about to point to it when Joshua pulled the same swatch from her hand and held it out. She allowed a wan smile and nodded, but there was still a hint of anger in her expression.

  “I think it shall be this one,” he murmured, giving her the swatch.

  “Whatever are you doing, Your Grace?” she whispered hoarsely, moving to stand between the earl and Joshua. She was suddenly furious with him for having remained mum during Gisborn’s invitation. She was furious with him for not having offered for her hand when she’d first arrived. And now she was just furious.

  Joshua took a deep breath and regarded Charlotte for several moments before giving her an answer. “Lady Charlotte,” he spoke quietly, reaching down to capture her hand in his. “I have no intention of letting him simply take you as his wife just because he thinks he’s entitled. But you’re not yet one-and-twenty. Until you reach your majority, you cannot get married without consent from your parents. And you cannot be forced to marry against your will,” he reminded her quietly. “But now that you no longer have to marry out of a sense of duty, this is your opportunity to be courted, Charlotte, just like any other debutante making her come-out at a ton ball. Do not deny yourself this chance to choose your own husband.” He watched the play of emotions cross Charlotte’s face as she considered his words. “Perhaps you can even marry for love,” he suggested, hoping his desire for her wasn’t as evident in his voice as he was feeling it that very moment.