A Duke She Can't Refuse

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A Duke She Can't Refuse Page 4

by Gemma Blackwood


  He was relieved when the guests began taking their place for the first dance. “You said your dance card was full. I ought to leave you to your first partner.”

  “But it would be far more intriguing if you took me out into the gardens for a private conversation,” she suggested, lifting her eyebrows.

  “I could not possibly do that. It would be rude.”

  “It would show a very suitable degree of longing for my company.” She fluttered her fan suggestively. “Besides, I was only supposed to dance with a friend of my stepfather’s, and he is so old he may well have forgotten he asked me.”

  It was vanishingly unlikely that anyone would forget that they had secured the bright-eyed, smart-mouthed Daisy Morton for the first dance of the evening, but telling her that would only make matters worse.

  “There was nothing in our arrangement about breaking with social convention,” he said stiffly. “I insist that I return you to your partner.”

  Daisy’s expressive eyebrows shot upwards. “You insist?”

  “I do.”

  To his dismay, she seemed to take that as a challenge. “In that case, I will step out into the gardens alone. You may follow me or not, as you see fit. The choice is yours.”

  “Miss Morton –”

  “It’s Daisy,” she reminded him, taking three quick steps backward towards the door. She slipped through before he could stop her.

  Drat. Alexander was left with two unappealing choices: to leave her waiting for him alone outside, and thereby leave their feigned romance in doubt, or to follow her and participate in an act of disrespect to an older gentleman who had every right to dance with her.

  He followed her outside just as the music began playing.

  Daisy had jumped up to sit on the low wall at the edge of the patio, her head tilted up to look at the stars visible between patches of cloud in the sky. It was entirely possible that she had chosen the pose precisely because her neck looked so elegant at that angle. Alexander swallowed as his eyes briefly traced her delicate collarbone. He stepped forwards.

  Daisy swung her legs back and forth and patted the stone beside her. “Isn’t it much nicer out here than it is in that stuffy ballroom?”

  Alexander walked across and leaned against the wall, looking out over the gardens. Burning torches illuminated a rosebush here and an elegant piece of topiary there. Several couples were walking along the gravel pathways, their laughter mingling with the lively music from inside. A light breeze caressed his face, washing his cheeks clean of the sticky warmth of the crowd. He closed his eyes.

  “You do not really enjoy balls, do you?”

  He glanced sideways to find Daisy watching him closely. “No.”

  “Why do you attend so many?”

  “For my sisters, of course.” He placed his hands palm down on the cool stone of the wall, the little finger of his left hand only inches away from the folds of yellow silk covering Daisy’s swinging legs. “They are all at the age when they should be making good matches. Balls were designed solely for that purpose, I believe.”

  “Ah. So you do not expect your sisters to abstain from romance, as you do.”

  “I had the luxury of being born a gentleman. They do not. Women gain a great deal of independence and influence by means of a good marriage.”

  “Oh, marriage,” said Daisy disparagingly. “What about love?”

  “A foolish emotion that leads too many sensible people into folly.”

  “How can you say that!” To his surprise, her hand landed on his, their fingers interlocking. He looked up to find her eyes brimming with genuine distress. “Everyone ought to hope for love.”

  “I do not.” There was nothing he wanted to discuss less than falling in love. It was a dangerous conversation in too many ways. “Daisy, I agreed to feign an engagement. Not to open my soul to you. If we must behave in a way designed purely to counter gossip, I will ask that we maintain a degree of decorum in our dealings with each other.”

  “It is not indecorous to talk about love. All the poets do it.”

  “I am not a poet.”

  “No,” she sighed. “I had noticed. Very well. Since you wish to talk business, I have something important to discuss with you.” She lowered her voice. “It concerns something I overheard in your bedroom.”

  He groaned. “If this is your idea of suitable conversation…”

  “I am serious. I believe your lawyer was trying to rob you.”

  “Mr Kettleburn?” Alexander fought not to roll his eyes. He knew Daisy had a wild imagination, but the idea of the dust-dry old gentleman turning to petty crime was too much, even for her. “He has served the Loxwell estates for decades, and is paid a small fortune in annual fees. I assure you, he is the last person you ought to suspect of evildoing.”

  “I don’t suspect, I know. I heard him and a strange man talking in your bedroom. They were looking for the duchess’s vase.”

  He frowned. “That seems highly unlikely. The vase’s value was purely sentimental. If Kettleburn – of all people! – were trying to steal from me, there were plenty of objects he could have chosen.”

  “I am certain it was the vase,” said Daisy. “Since I was underneath your bed holding pieces of it in my hands at the time, I think I ought to know.”

  She removed her hand from Alexander’s, leaving it strangely naked despite his glove. Before he knew what he was doing, he had caught her hand up again and gripped it.

  “If you are certain, then I believe you,” he said. “But you must believe me when I tell you that there must be another explanation. I will speak to Mr Kettleburn about this when I next see him.”

  “You cannot do that!” she cried. “That will give the game away entirely!”

  “What else do you suggest I do?”

  “Why, investigate him in secret, of course,” she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Until you know why he was after that vase, you should not breathe a word of it to him. The strange man who was with him came in through the servants’ entrance – perhaps one of them saw him.”

  “We are not living in a gothic novel, Daisy.” But there was some merit in what she said. He could not imagine why Kettleburn would be after a worthless vase, but his own lack of imagination did not mean that underhand behaviour was not afoot. Daisy was gnawing on her lip with such frustration that he could not help but give in. “Very well. It is a good idea. I will have my butler interrogate the servants. I don’t like the idea that a strange man can enter my house as he chooses.”

  “Thank you,” she said simply. They looked at each other a moment, her hand pressed in his. Her gaze warmed, and she reached out with her other hand and touched his cheek. “You are smiling again.”

  It seemed to happen more often than not around Daisy. How was he to help himself? Something about her reached into the undiscovered places of his heart and pulled them out into the sunlight.

  A loud, masculine cough sounded from the doorway. “I hope I am not interrupting.”

  Ralph Morton was leaning against the door, arms folded, fixing Alexander with a glare fit to strike him down where he stood.

  Alexander dropped Daisy’s hand as though it were scalding. “Good evening, Lord Northmere.”

  “It certainly looks like a good evening for you, Your Grace.” Ralph beckoned to Daisy. She shot Alexander an apologetic look, jumped down from the wall and trotted across to her brother’s side. “Mr Garner was looking for you,” Ralph told her. His eyes were still burning into Alexander. “But he said not to worry about the dance. He said that young love will have its way.”

  Those words had never been spoken with more venom.

  Daisy thrust her hand through her brother’s arm. “Don’t be sour, Ralph. The duke and I were simply talking.”

  “Alone,” said Ralph. “Unchaperoned. While you were supposed to be dancing with someone else. And without an announcement of any engagement in the papers.” A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Is this your
idea of saving my sister’s reputation, Your Grace?”

  “That is easily remedied,” said Alexander smoothly. He dared not look at Daisy. This was not a good moment for another inappropriate smile. “I will announce our engagement as soon as Daisy wishes it. All I need is your permission, my lord.”

  How much did Ralph know about the truth behind their arrangement? Enough to disapprove of it, certainly. Alexander folded his arms and returned Ralph’s glare with one of his own. He was a duke, after all, and he would not be cowed by a mere baron. Even if that baron was Daisy’s brother.

  “Say yes, Ralph,” said Daisy, tugging his arm. “Everything is settled between us already.”

  Ralph turned to his sister and laid his hands on her shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. “Is this what you want, Daisy? Truly?”

  Alexander’s chest tightened. It was utterly irrational for him to hope that she said yes, of course. But, if she was going to reject him at this stage, he would much rather she did it privately.

  “I think I do,” said Daisy, lowering her eyes to the ground. “That is – yes. Yes, it is what I want.” She looked over at Alexander. “I cannot wait to announce our engagement.”

  Ralph’s shoulders sagged. “I will not stand in your way.”

  Alexander sympathised. He could only imagine his own feelings if it were one of his own sisters in a similar dilemma. But Ralph was behaving as though Alexander were a common tradesman, not one of the most powerful men in the country. He was an excellent match for Daisy. If he was not good enough in Ralph’s eyes, who would be?

  “That settles it, then,” he said, giving Ralph a curt bow. “Let me invite you and your family to dinner at my house the day after tomorrow. We will have a small party and announce the engagement then, and send it out in the newspapers the following day. Does that satisfy you?”

  Ralph held up a finger as though he would have liked to jab it into Alexander’s eye. “Treat her well,” he warned him. “She is the best girl in the world. If you do not see that, you must be blind.”

  He stalked back into the ballroom. Daisy gave Alexander an apologetic shrug and followed.

  Alexander was left outside with the cool breeze, the touch of Daisy’s hand lingering on his cheek, and the laughter of genuine couples drifting through the air around him.

  4

  Daisy had never looked forward to an evening meal less than she did on the day Alexander planned to announce their engagement. She’d had two days to think over her situation. Two days for Ralph’s disapproval to eat away at her mind.

  “If the Morton family knows anything, it is how to survive a little scandal,” he had told her. “Isn’t it better to hold your head high and wait for the gossip to die down?”

  “And be forever known as the girl who tried and failed to seduce the Duke of Loxwell?” Daisy countered. “Besides, after the way we behaved at the ball, I don’t see how we can avoid it.”

  Ralph groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I always thought so highly of him when he was merely Mr Alexander Balfour. Has his new title made him so haughty that he has forgotten all his old ideals?”

  “Not at all,” said Daisy. “I was the one who told him to behave as though he were in love with me. It was my idea to snub Mr Garner to be alone with him. The fault is entirely mine.” And a little of Edith’s, too. Though Daisy would never breathe a word of it to her. Edith would die of guilt if she knew that her mistake had forced Daisy to such extremes.

  Besides, extreme though it was, Daisy had to admit there was plenty to enjoy in her latest adventure. Too much, perhaps.

  They had done much more in the end than steal a moment alone at the ball. They had danced a waltz together, Alexander’s strong hand on the small of Daisy’s back, and the world had blurred around them. He had escorted her into supper and smiled at her in that particular way that made her toes curl. He had laughed that warm, rich laugh each time she made a joke. He was a better actor than she had imagined. It was all fantasy, of course, but thrilling, addictive fantasy nonetheless.

  And in any case, she had made a promise to Alexander. The small taste she’d had of the intense attention a duke commanded had made her dizzy. If she could do something to ease the pressure he felt while he found his place as the Duke of Loxwell, she would do it.

  Deceiving her closest relatives was one part of the bargain she had not anticipated. Ralph and her mother knew the engagement was not a love match, of course, but they did not know that it also came with a time limit. The end of the Season was a few short months away.

  “You look beautiful tonight, my dear,” said her mother, as they descended from the carriage outside Alexander’s house. “Here, let me bring some colour into those cheeks.”

  Daisy tried in vain to duck her mother’s hands before they rubbed energetically at her face. Lady Peyton had never lost her taste for the rouged cheeks fashionable in her youth. Daisy often felt that her own natural looks were something of a disappointment by comparison.

  The butler opened the door and coughed politely while Lady Peyton continued her ministrations. Daisy finally managed to bat her hands away.

  “Good evening, Lady Peyton, Miss Morton, Lord Northmere.” The butler bowed and gestured them inside. “Please follow me.”

  As Daisy took off her coat, a pair of hands descended over her eyes.

  “Edith,” she guessed, immediately. Her friend dropped her hands and flung her arms around Daisy from behind.

  “Your future sister!” she cried, squeezing so tightly Daisy could hardly breathe. “I am so excited I could honestly die!”

  Ralph shot Daisy a look that was much too knowing and followed the butler into the drawing room with Lady Peyton on his arm, leaving Daisy free to speak to Edith in peace.

  “Death would be a slight overreaction,” she said, smiling despite the churning guilt in her stomach. “It is an engagement, not a heart attack.”

  Edith clasped her hands together. “I cannot believe you kept it all a secret from me! You are so wicked! To think that every time we laughed at Alex’s serious nature –” spoken in a decent impression of Alexander’s stern voice – “you were really falling in love with him! With my stick-in-the-mud brother!”

  “He is not a stick-in-the-mud.” Daisy hung her coat up on the rack. “He is charming.” That, at least, was not a lie. Whether his attentions were real or not, charming was the least of it.

  “My brother,” Edith repeated, grinning. “Oh! That reminds me. I have a note for you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A love note.”

  Daisy doubted that she would find any words of affection written on the slip of paper Edith passed her, and her surmise turned out to be accurate. Five bald words were written on the paper. It was more an order than a lover’s sweet nothings.

  Meet me in the library.

  Daisy folded the note so that Edith could not see it and raised her eyebrows as though she had received something very romantic indeed. “Can you point me in the direction of the library?”

  Edith bounced up and down in excitement. “Of course! Down the corridor, second on the right. I’ll take you myself – no! Silly me! You’ll want to be alone.” She let out a high-pitched squeak of joy, kissed Daisy on both cheeks, and ran into the drawing room.

  Daisy took a deep breath and made her way down the corridor. The library door was ajar. Before she pushed it further open, she caught a glimpse of Alexander sitting in a high-backed chair, his chin resting in one hand, staring pensively into the fire. His face was solemn, his eyes sad.

  She had never seen him look vulnerable before.

  For a brief, foolish moment, she imagined wrapping her arms around him, changing that serious expression to one of his smiles, or perhaps letting him rest his head on her shoulder as he sighed out his worries.

  Then her arm knocked against the door, and it creaked, and Alexander rose from his chair to let her in with his customary polite, solemn demeanour.

  “Daisy. Thank you for
coming.” He closed the door behind her. “I wanted to speak to you before things really get underway.”

  “What is there to speak about?”

  He frowned at her as though he was not sure whether she was serious. “I want to be certain that you still wish to go ahead. I don’t know what you have said to your brother, but I know he does not wholly approve. Though I can’t think why.” There was a touch of damaged pride in his voice, though he must have been striving to conceal it.

  Daisy smiled. “Ralph is as much a romantic as I am – though you mustn’t tell him I said so! It is not you he disapproves of. It is the whole situation.”

  Alexander raised an eyebrow. “A less charitable man might point out that you have brought this situation on yourself. I had little to do with it.”

  “Perhaps if I had a less-indulgent brother, I would not have got into such a scrape in the first place.”

  “You give the impression that you think that would have been my loss.”

  “Wouldn’t it?” She gave her most sparkling smile, hoping to elicit a response, but Alexander turned to his desk and began looking for something in the drawers.

  The message was clear. He might play the part of a lover with delicious ease in public, but it would take a little more to draw him into a private flirtation.

  And Daisy resolved immediately to do it. The thought of ruffling his stern composure was simply too tempting.

  “I have something for you,” he said, finding a package wrapped in brown paper and holding it out to her.

  “A present?” Daisy hesitated. “What’s the occasion?”

  “I thought it would be appropriate to mark our – well, not our engagement. Our arrangement.” He gestured towards her with the package. “It’s not going to bite you.”

  “I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Worldly goods are not something I currently lack.”

  She took the package and weighed it in her hands. It was flat, light, rectangular. “A book?”

  “You won’t know unless you open it.”

  She did so, tearing the paper gently. She hardly knew what to expect. Alexander had always kept his distance while she spent time with his sisters. What did he know of her interests, her passions, her likes and dislikes?

 

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