Dane shifted, appreciating the offer. Charlie was eager to return to London but time with the Moorish family would surely be a welcome diversion while in the country. “I would appreciate that greatly.”
Mr. Moorish shook his hand again. “Most excellent. Since we’ll be family, I’m thrilled for the opportunity to get to know you better.”
A bit of guilt over his suspicions made his mouth tighten as he nodded. “So am I.”
Mr. Moorish turned away again just as Chase approached. “Dane,” Chase clapped him on the back. “So glad you could make it.”
Some of the tension eased. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Would you like to take a walk? The beach is stunning.”
He gave a nod. “Shall I get Charlie?”
Chase shook his head, his smile waning. “No. I think this should just be the two of us. We’ve some things to discuss, don’t we?”
Dane gave a nod. They did.
The two men set out, heading down a steep, rocky path that wove its way down a bluff to the shoreline below. Chase started down the beach at a brisk pace.
Dane struggled to keep up. “You’re going rather fast.”
Chase looked back with a nod. “It’s amazing how much more exercise I get here. I’m in better shape already.” Chase stopped, pointing to an outcropping of rocks. “If you look behind that jagged stone, you’ll find a hidden spot that the stone blocks the wind. I proposed to Ophelia there.”
Dane crossed his arms over his chest. “How sweet.”
Chase turned to his cousin. “Now I know you’re suspicious. You never use the word sweet.”
“I’m not suspicious. I just happen to believe you should know a woman for longer than a week before you propose. I know everyone thinks that I’m crazy, but from where I stand, I’m the sane one.”
Chase scrubbed his scalp with his fingertips. “I do see your point. And I can’t explain this to you but Ophelia, she’s just…right. She fits me like no other person ever and I won’t wait any longer to start my life with her.”
His shoulders sagged a bit. Chase was a grown man, a duke no less, and Dane had no say in the matter. “Do you remember the time you went to that gaming hell and I told you not to go? And you ended up in a duel?”
Chase let out a long breath, his face darkening. “You took my place. You know I’m a terrible shot.”
Dane gave a single nod. “I can’t save you from this one if you’ve made a mistake. Not if you won’t listen to me.”
Chase stepped closer to his cousin. “I’ve made plenty of good decisions in my life too, Dane. And this is one of them.”
Dane gave a small jerk of his chin. He’d keep his eyes open, but he hoped his cousin was correct.
“Speaking of good decisions…” Chase started walking. “You seem awfully interested in Juliet.”
His gut twisted. “We’re not discussing this yet. Unlike you, I proceed with a great deal more caution.”
“Fine.” Chase laughed. “Have it your way.”
“Juliet,” Ophelia said on a sigh. “Does it all have to be your way all of the time?”
Juliet sniffed, watching the afternoon sun play off the walls. After a busy morning of greeting guests, they enjoyed an afternoon repose. Bianca and Adrianna sat together on a settee directly across from her. “Of course not.” In truth, she was rather difficult in this manner. She had a vision for how she wished events to be and she pestered her sisters until she got her way. She winced. But honestly, without their mother, she wished to help them. Nudge them in the direction that would ultimately make them happy.
It was a trait that served her well in her family most of the time. As she stepped out of her small world, however, she was beginning to wonder if it was useful, or even tolerable to everyone else. Three of her sisters had paired off with eligible, handsome men while she’d been trying to catch Dashlane’s eye all week. The only emotion he seemed to feel toward her was irritation.
Ophelia turned, her hands on her hips. “Then I’d like to keep the guest list for tonight’s dinner to under twenty.”
“Oh but Ophelia.” Juliet covered her chest. “That’s hardly room for our closest family.” She winced slightly. That request wasn’t for Juliet’s benefit but her own. She wanted a large party that might cast her in a fun light. Make Dashlane think she was interesting and vivacious.
Ophelia clucked her tongue. “Juliet, this is about Chase and myself, not you. Your plans are not needed here. In fact, they are often not needed at all.”
Adrianna rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to stop meddling. I know you mean well but honestly. It’s just irritating.”
Juliet clenched her fist and pain banded her lungs, squeezing them, making it difficult to breathe. “I’m not that bad. And you know I was just trying to make sure it felt like a party so Dashlane would actually attend.”
“You’re not bad,” Bianca raised her hands. “Just over exuberant.”
Did all her sisters feel this way? Tears stung the back of her eyes.
“Besides. He’s already accepted.” Ophelia stepped closer, taking her sister’s hand and holding it in hers. Her face was pinched as she squeezed Juliet’s fingers. “And think of it this way. Less people will mean less women to distract Lord Dashlane.”
Juliet grimaced. “That’s true. I do want him to notice me.”
“Juliet. I’ve seen you with him. You get louder every time he is near and you can’t stop looking at him. He’s noticed.”
Juliet pulled her hand from her sisters and pressed her own hands together as she stared at her lap. “I get louder?” How…unattractive.
Bianca gave a tiny shrug as she squeezed her sister’s hand. “You turn on your acting self.”
Juliet’s brows drew together. Acting self? “What does that mean?”
Ophelia nibbled at her own lip. “Well, you know how you are when you’re acting in one of Papa’s plays. Your voice carries and movements are exaggerated, and—”
Juliet pulled her hand from her sister’s, shuddering at her sister’s description. “Tell me this isn’t true. I really act like that every time I’m around Lord Dashlane?” No wonder he didn’t wish to court her. Would any man if she behaved like that?
Ophelia gave a small laugh. “Don’t worry, Juliet. We all get a little funny when we have our first crush.”
“But I’ve likely ruined any chance I have with him.” Juliet shook her head, her hands coming up to cover her face.
Ophelia let out a sigh. “I don’t know about that. But I will say that you should ask yourself if you really want another chance with him.”
“What does that mean?” Juliet dropped her hands, looking over at her sister.
“Well.” Ophelia took a step back. “To be honest, he doesn’t seem your type.”
She stared at her sister. “What is my type? How can I have a type? I’ve never been courted by anyone.”
Ophelia turned back to her sister. “Think of Bianca and Lord Craven. Bianca talks a great deal while Craven is very quiet. There is plenty of space for Bianca to chat as much as she wishes. Even Mama and Papa. Papa always acted loudly while Mama quietly crocheted, keeping to herself and was more reserved. You have Papa’s personality. You need someone like Mama, who gives you plenty of room for you to be you. If you ask me, Dashlane wants to be the center of attention. He likes to shine the brightest in most any room. But you, you are a jewel all unto yourself. You should choose a man who doesn’t compete with you but rather is the gold band that’s willing to be your setting. To hold you up to the sun and allow you to sparkle.”
Juliet blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She liked the idea but a part of her still wondered if she were just too much.
Ophelia took her hand again. “Dashlane is coming for dinner tonight. When you see him this evening, weigh my words. And really listen to your own body. How does he smell? How do your insides react when he’s around?”
She cocked her head, assessing her sister
. “How does he smell?”
Ophelia nodded, giving her sister a knowing smile. Then she paused, her hand fluttering toward her cheek. “And while we’re talking about men…”
Juliet’s stomach jolted and she covered the offending organ with her hand. She knew this conversation was about Lord Hartwell and thinking of him made her insides behave in the strangest way. “What do you mean?”
Ophelia smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You and Lord Hartwell were on the balcony for an excessively long time.”
Juliet huffed. “Don’t be absurd. He mostly wants to talk about you.”
Ophelia raised a brow. “Me?”
Juliet stepped toward the window. “He sees himself as Chase’s protector, I think.”
“Really? The protective sort?”
Juliet turned back to her sister. “You’re not offended that he thinks he needs to protect Chase from you?”
Ophelia shook her head. “I’m not offended at all. I love anyone who only wants the best for my future husband. I’m sure Lord Hartwell will see that in time.”
Juliet frowned. How could her sister be so generous of spirit? Now Juliet felt petty and inferior. Then again, perhaps Ophelia was the person that Juliet should protect.
Chapter Five
Dane stood behind the settee as one of the sisters played at the pianoforte. She was very good and he tried to enjoy the music but Juliet sat just in front of him, distracting him. She leaned forward, intent upon her sister’s performance, the small of her back arched in the loveliest way. Her auburn locks were pulled back in a loose coif that then trailed down her pale green silk gown, caressing the soft fabric.
He itched to reach out and touch the strands. He clenched his teeth. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He never allowed fits of infatuation to affect him so. Well, not since Tiffany.
He’d been all of eighteen when he’d met her. At the age of one and twenty, she’d dazzled him with her beauty, sophistication, and social grace. As a new marquess, he’d been weighed down with his loss and the responsibility that came with a new title and she seemed the answer to a prayer.
He’d courted her without pause and, for once in his life, he’d acted on instinct rather than reason. And in a matter of a few weeks, everything fell into place. He’d even purchased a ring, a large diamond, to adorn her finger and make her his wife.
He blinked back to the present as a round of voracious clapping filled the room. The guests were all the same as the morning, with the exception of one addition, Lord Dashlane. Dane had met the man in London, a pretty dandy, the man liked attention the way a harlot might like gold.
“Bravo,” he called, standing and clapping the loudest in the group. “Well done.”
Dane frowned as he stared at him, before his gaze drifted back to Juliet. She also stared at Dashlane with a slight frown marking her brow. Did she not approve of the man either?
“Well done, Cordelia,” Mr. Moorish said as Cordelia rose from the bench and gave a slight bow, returning to the group.
“What shall we do next?” Bianca called. “Juliet, any ideas?”
Juliet shook her head silently and several Moorish sisters turned to stare.
“Not one?” Cordelia asked, looking her sister up and down. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I feel fine,” she answered, straightening up. “Never better. I just don’t have any games in mind.”
Dashlane clapped his hands. “How much time do we have until dinner?”
“No more than half an hour,” her father said.
“A quick game then,” Dashlane said. “How about Blind Man’s Bluff?”
The assembly clapped and Dashlane began to untie his cravat from his neck. “We’ll use this as a blindfold.”
Everyone scattered to grab chairs and formed a circle. “Who shall be the blind man?” Bianca asked as she settled into a chair.
“Juliet,” Ophelia called.
Dane, who’d stayed behind the settee, found himself approaching the circle. The idea that Juliet would be touching the other men made his chest tighten. He hadn’t intended to join in but he didn’t want to sit and watch her either. He let out a slow breath, irritated with his own reaction.
Juliet shook her head. “Oh no, that’s all right.”
Cordelia tsked. “You love to be it.”
He slipped into a chair as he watched Dashlane wrap the cravat about Juliet’s face. She reached up, pressing the fabric against her eyes, a frown marking her lips. Dashlane’s fingers brushed her hair and Dane clenched a fist on his thigh, jealousy making his muscles tighten. Then he shook his head. This shouldn’t be happening. He didn’t grow jealous over women he’d just met.
Drawing in a shaky breath, he watched as Dashlane put his hands on Juliet’s shoulders, spinning her about several times. He looked down, trying not to allow the anger bubbling up inside to come out. But as he looked at his lap, he realized his knuckles had turned completely white.
He tried to relax his hands but only succeeded when Dashlane let Juliet go and stepped back. Hands out in front of her, she stumbled until she reached the first set of knees in the circle. She skimmed them along Ophelia’s legs and then she reached Chase. He held up a hand, helping her move around him.
Dane’s gut flopped again. The sight of her delicate fingers clasped in Chase’s larger hand made him shift in his seat. She stopped, reaching out, attempting to touch his face and mashed his nose. He laughed and she smiled. She knew who he was, Dane was sure of it, but she didn’t call out his name. Instead, she kept going, trailing her hand along Craven and then Bianca. Cordelia next and then she reached his chair and touched his knee.
Now his breath stilled for an entirely different reason. The feel of her fingers made his nerves tingle and his jaw clench.
She gave a gentle stroke to his knee, feeling the fabric between her fingers. She wobbled and he leaned forward, reaching to steady her. Juliet’s soft, velvety fingers wrapped about his, looking so pale and delicate in his own larger ones. Then he saw her nostrils flare, just the tiniest bit. What was she doing? He found he didn’t care as long as she stayed in front of his chair.
Juliet’s evening gown was cut to expose a good deal of the creamy skin and bent as she was, her cleavage was clearly exposed to him, giving him an amazing view of her full, rounded breasts. And when the scent of summer meadows filled his nostrils, he wanted to bury his face in her neck and then kiss a trail down her chest.
Would she taste as good as she smelled? And if she did would he fall helplessly under her spell?
Juliet held a man’s strong hand, her other fingers caressing his knee. Lord, she hoped this was not one of her sisters’ soon-to-be husbands. The man felt so rugged and capable under her light touch as his large hand engulfed hers.
Then there was his scent. Sandalwood and leather, a hint of cigar and something deep and masculine. It made her flutter in the most intimate of areas. Which meant one thing. This must be Lord Dashlane.
“It’s you,” she murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Funny. But when he’d been tying his cravat about her face, she hadn’t taken note of his scent. But now…it surrounded her. Masculine and exciting, she squeezed his fingers.
“It’s me,” he whispered back.
She frowned. Even in a whisper, his voice didn’t sound quite right. It was so deep and dark, heavier and…
“You’re not supposed to answer her, you fool,” Dashlane’s voice sounded from the other side of the circle. Which meant the man holding her hand and the knee she caressed wasn’t Dashlane at all.
She swallowed a lump, confusion knitting her brow. If not Dashlane, then who was it? “Lord Hartwell?”
A cheer rose from the crowd and she felt the man, whose hand she was holding, stand. The angle of his hand changed and his body drew closer, his heat seeping through the silk of her dress.
“Yes. It’s me.”
His words whispered over her ear, his breath tickling the sensit
ive skin of her neck. He still held her hand but he used the other to loosen the knot Lord Dashlane had tied in the cravat.
She tried to slow the racing of her heart as he worked out the knot. She still couldn’t see, but that only heightened her senses. Was her heart racing at her mistake? Or because of Hartwell’s proximity? She didn’t need to ask. She already knew the answer.
The cravat slid from her eyes and she looked at Hartwell. Had she not noticed how muscular his shoulders were, the strength of his neck, the squareness of his jaw?
“Should we play another round?” Adrianna asked. “It’s Lord Hartwell’s turn.”
“Dinner is served,” the butler called from the door, giving a slight bow.
Mr. Moorish stood. “Blind Man’s Bluff will have to wait,” he called. “We must feed our guests.”
Without a word, Hartwell tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Who did you think I was before you knew it was me?”
A jolt of regret slid down Juliet’s spine. For some reason, she didn’t wish for Hartwell to know about her crush on Lord Dashlane. “I didn’t think you were anyone. I was tricking you into revealing your identity.” A blush crept into her cheeks at the lie.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you fibbing? You seemed so certain of yourself and you were clearly searching for someone. You passed Chase and I know you knew who he was.”
She licked her top lip, not eager to continue to lie but also reluctant to tell the truth. But why not? She wasn’t interested in Hartwell beyond making certain he didn’t ruin Ophelia’s wedding, was she? But then she thought of the way she’d responded to the feel of his hand and his masculine scent. “I didn’t want the game to end so quickly.” She looked away, sure he’d see the truth in her eyes.
“It’s odd because I had a completely different picture of you this morning.”
That caught her attention and she turned her face back to study his profile. “How so?”
“Vivacious, full of life.” He turned his head and locked his gaze on her. “And honest, almost to a fault.”
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 31
