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Cocky Duke

Page 20

by Anders, Annabelle


  Groby had deserved to die.

  “I brought her home with me and then returned later that day. I could not allow Lord Groby to go unpunished and so I demanded that he meet me at dawn.”

  “For a duel?”

  Chance nodded. Hollis had been his second but otherwise the only other person he’d brought with him was a physician. Lord Groby’s second had been a distant cousin on his mother’s side and only a few of his fellow lowlifes had watched from the sidelines. Not one had made an attempt to prevent the spectacle. Groby’s treatment of Chance’s sister had been too vile, too diabolical.

  Aubrey sat staring at him. By the shining tears in her eyes, he knew she realized he’d glossed over much of it for her sake.

  “I killed him, Princesse,” Chance admitted with a shrug. He did not regret it.

  She did not get up and run from the room but even in the dim lighting, he could tell she’d gone somewhat pale. And she’d raised one hand to her mouth in shock.

  “I could have worn a mask, but I did not. I wanted the villain to see the eyes of the person who would put an end to his worthless life.”

  “But that is murder!” Aubrey gasped.

  Chance nodded in agreement.

  “Lord Groby was the only heir to my deceased wife’s father, the Earl of Beresford.”

  He waited as she pieced the puzzle together in her mind.

  “He demanded you marry in exchange for silence. But would you not have immunity as a duke?”

  “My father’s title is a French one. Even English dukes are not immune when murder is the crime, especially the murder of another nobleman. So when a French duke kills an English Viscount…” He shrugged. “But that was not my primary concern. If word had gotten out… If the truth of that night became public, Adelaide would have become a pariah in Society. And with her weaknesses, I could not allow that to happen. I needed to protect her.”

  “So you were on the way to your wedding, to your victim’s sister? When we first met?”

  Chance nodded. “If I did not comply before my thirtieth birthday they would have called for my arrest as well as send Adelaide’s story to the broadsheets.”

  Aubrey blinked. This was a lot for her to take in… and he didn’t really come out looking very innocent in the matter. He’d murdered a man for God’s sake.

  “I wish you would have told me.” She turned her head and stared at the dark hearth; her eyes somewhat unfocussed. “Did you love her?”

  Ahh, there had been many days that he wished that he had. “She was very young and she was very sweet. But she was ill—very ill. Her father’s title was designed so that a child of hers could inherit.”

  “So you…” Her throat moved as though she had to swallow hard. “made love to her?”

  At the vulnerability in her voice, Chance couldn’t remain seated a second longer. He rose from the chair and rushed across to stand before her.

  Utterly broken, he dropped to his knees and then leaned forward, pressing his face into her lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ve touched no one since you. Oh, God, Aubrey. I just want to make everything better. I want you to trust me again. I’ve done nothing but think of you, long for you, over the past two years.” He buried his face in the folds of her skirt. So sweet, so feminine. Holding her like this was bittersweet. It was everything, and yet he wanted so much more.

  “It would have been my duty to bed her. In fact, it was the primary reason her father arranged the marriage. But I did not want it and more importantly, neither did she. She was infirm and knew she was dying. If she’d come to be with child, it would have hastened her death, perhaps even precipitated it. She led her parents to believe that the marriage had been consummated and then I took her home with me to Secours. I believe that when the time for her death finally came, she welcomed it. She lived much her life in a great deal of pain.”

  Aubrey’s hands landed on his head. “She was an innocent.” Her fingers ran through his hair and the sensation was balm to his soul. God, he wanted this woman again. In his bed, in his life.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wanted to but I didn’t know if I would ever be free. And when I saw you again, I just. I’ve missed you for so long. Tell me what to do, Princesse. I beg of you to tell me and I’ll do it.” He’d never felt so utterly destroyed.

  “I missed you so much.” A tremor ran through her. “I just wish…”

  “Just tell me.” She was touching him willingly. She wanted him too, he was certain of it. He felt her leaning forward, her face practically buried in his hair. “Allow me to earn your trust again.”

  He leaned back on his haunches so he could see her eyes, but he couldn’t release her. If it was up to him, he’d never release her.

  “I don’t want you to leave London, but...” She admitted, her voice choking on a sob. He hated that he’d brought so much pain and misery into her life. If she only gave him a chance, though. If she only gave both of them a chance, he believed that it could all be worth it.

  Chance sat up and placed his hands along both sides of her face. “I’ll stay forever for you. All you have to do is ask.”

  When she held his gaze, nodding, his heart nearly stopped. She’d removed some of the barriers she’d kept in place since he’d come back into her life. She was his Princesse—his friend.

  “Let me take you out tomorrow. You can tell me all about the people you’ve met, about how Society has taken to Lancelot.” This extracted a grin from her, albeit a wobbly one. That was the best he’d been able to do lately. He would do better from now on.

  “As friends?” She tilted her head. “We were friends first… before.”

  They had been. It was a start. Not the one he would have wished for, but it was something. He had not failed yet.

  Every instinct screamed out for him to make love to her here and now. She would not resist him. Hell, she’d been the one to initiate their lovemaking before.

  But she was different now. Reserved. Cautious.

  He’d done this to her.

  He swallowed hard and instead of allowing his desire to have free rein, he leaned forward, just enough so that he could inhale her scent, just enough so that he could feel the warmth of her cheek along his.

  When he turned his head, it was so that he could drop a chaste kiss at the side of her lips. When he touched her, he felt as much as heard the hitch in her breath.

  His Princesse.

  His!

  “Until tomorrow, Mon cœur.” And then he pushed himself up from the floor, feeling bereft but hopeful as well.

  As she rose, he took her hand. “How did you get here. Tell me you did not walk alone.”

  She laughed, shakily. “Mr. Daniels drove me, of course.”

  “He has proven to be loyal? He has treated you well?” Chance would make the blighter regret it if her answer wasn’t that what he expected.

  “He has.”

  Her arm felt small and fragile in his as he led her to the front door and down the steps to the street. Even walking with her like this felt right. Not only wonderful but it felt normal—as though they ought to have been doing this for years now.

  Mr. Daniels stood at the carriage with the door open. “Your Grace.” He nodded in Chance’s direction.

  “Take good care of her.” It was the second time that day he’d given this instruction, but it felt one thousand times better now.

  Chance leaned down. “I will arrive for you at noon.”

  “But the driving hours aren’t until much later?” She smiled up at him in surprise.

  “Who said we’d be driving through the park?” Hell if he was willing to share her with all of Society on this one, his first, opportunity to spend an afternoon alone with her.

  Aubrey had begun to step into the carriage but paused and turned back around. “I will not betray Richard—Mr. Cline. He has been very good to me. I won’t disrespect him.”

  Chance stiffened. This was not what he wished to hear.
<
br />   “You’ll have to tell him eventually.”

  Aubrey reached out then, almost regretfully, and placed her hand along his jaw. “We will be friends, Chance. It’s all I can promise you.”

  “Presently.” He added, making her laugh.

  “Goodnight Mr. Bateman.” This time she climbed all the way into the carriage and sat primly on the forward-facing seat.

  Chance leaned in and winked. “Goodnight Mrs. Bateman.”

  “Excuse me?” She leaned toward him with furrowed brows.

  “Good night Mrs. Bloomington.”

  Chapter 21

  Chance

  “But! I thought we were to go driving.” Aubrey stepped off of the step and onto the pavement, staring up in awe. “It is Guinevere!”

  Chance rocked back on his heels, pleased at the look of pleasure on her face. Every time he saw her, she appeared more beautiful than the time before, and today was no different. She wore a jaunty blue hat that barely covered the silken auburn tresses that had been pinned and curled into a most delightful style. Her gown matched the hat, only hinting at the curves he craved beneath it.

  “I thought you’d like to see her again.” The mare, indeed, was still as magnificent as she had been on the day they met.

  “But I do not ride. I wanted to get a horse and learn but changed my mind…” The shadow that crossed his face reminded him that her decision may have had something to do with him, with her miserable state upon arriving in London.

  “Guinevere is sturdy enough to carry both of us.” And then requiring little effort at all, Chance sprung himself into the saddle. Holding out one hand, he smiled down at her. “Plenty of room for you to ride in front of me.”

  “Shouldn’t I change my gown? Despite never riding, I do happen to own a riding habit.”

  “No need. Give me your hand, Princesse, and put your foot on my boot.” Would she be as open to adventure as she’d been two years ago?

  After glancing up and down the street, she bit her lip but then stepped forward and placed her hand in his. Even with both of them wearing gloves, her touch sent sparks of life racing to his heart.

  Hitching her skirt up with her other hand, she grinned and then awkwardly lifted her slippered foot and set it on his.

  A rush of laughter escaped her as Chance pulled her up to sit in front of him in one easy motion. He finally had her where he wanted her. Pressed against him, safe in his arms.

  “We’re so very high up. Are you certain we are not too heavy for her?’

  Chance leaned forward, patting Guinevere’s neck, at the same time enjoying Aubrey’s nearness.

  “Gwennie is larger than most horses. Besides, you’re just a slip of a thing.”

  “How do I do this?”

  Guinevere danced a few steps to the side and Aubrey stiffened.

  “Relax, Princesse,” Chance drew her back against him. “Hold the rein with me. Are you afraid?”

  She shook her head without hesitation. “Not with you.”

  God.

  This woman.

  “Just relax into me,” he instructed and then urged Guinevere forward. “She’s sensitive, so not much effort is required to let her know what you want.” Covering Aubrey’s hands with his, he showed her how to hold the leather strap, how to communicate with the animal. As they left the street and entered the near empty park, his Princesse seemed already more confident and relaxed.

  “Oh, but this is wonderful. I feel…”

  “Free?” Chance finished for her.

  She nodded, her head brushing the side of his face. “And powerful.”

  “I’ll teach you how to ride on your own. We’ll find you a mount perfect for your size.” He didn’t stop to think that they would not have a future together. This felt too right. Too perfect.

  She didn’t respond though. Perhaps he ought to have withheld his comment, his confidence. And yet he needed her to know their destination. He needed her to realize the extent of his intentions.

  “Tell me everything.” Chance spoke softly near her ear. “I want to know you again.” He wanted to know all of her again, but he’d best keep some of that to himself.

  Although he did not think he was not mistaken, she was excited to be near him. Her flushed cheeks and shallow breaths were not just a result of riding Guinevere.

  Chance loved the sound of her laughter. “Everything?”

  “I want to know about your first salon. I want to know who befriended you.” Do you think of me when you lie in your bed at night? As I have you? Do you taste the same?

  She paused. “It was difficult in the beginning.” She spoke softly. “I was lonely, and yet I wanted to be alone.” Branches hung in their path as they entered a treelined trail. Chance swept them away so that they wouldn’t bother either Guinevere or his Princesse.

  “Lady Longewood’s son became a good friend to me.” She continued. “When he indicated that he wanted to court me… I could not. We became friends and I told him some of what happened with you—of course, he has no idea who you were—who you are. He’s gone on a tour of the continent now. He said if he ever met you, he’d plant you a facer.”

  Chance hated that she’d had to turn to another man, but on the same hand he was glad she’d not been completely alone.

  “I’ve met a few ladies close in age to me, as well. I’m on the periphery of Society and that’s more than I could ever have hoped for.”

  “You did well for yourself. You would have succeeded without my interference. And Mr. Dog, Lancelot,” Chance turned the conversation. “Is he too, on the periphery of Society?”

  “Dearest Lancelot has been more accepted then myself, I daresay,” she turned her head to slide Chance a glance. Her eyes danced and for a moment time stood still.

  “Lady Zelda?” Chance asked when Aubrey turned to face forward again.

  She giggled. His lovely Princesse giggled, sending warmth through his chest. “Lady Stanhope! Can you imagine? I brought him with me for her ‘at home’ and he promptly climbed into her lap and fell right asleep.”

  “Eyes open?”

  “And tongue hanging out,” she confirmed. “I was mortified at first, as was Lord Longewood, but her ladyship fell instantly in love. I think she’d steal him from me if she could. She insists I bring him to visit her at least once a week.”

  “Ah, but he has not yet been presented to the queen.”

  More tinkling laughter. “Not yet.”

  Over the next half an hour, as they strolled slowly through the park, she regaled him with a few of the more interesting salons she had hosted and that she’d seen her brother and sister-in-law in London last summer but that they had pretended they did not know her.

  “It is to their disadvantage, then.” They had arrived upon a clearing and Chance gripped her tightly. “Are you ready, Princesse? We are going to fly now.”

  She didn’t question him, for what, but instead only nodded.

  Trusting him.

  Chance then allowed Guinevere her head and the horse didn’t hesitate to bound forward, as she’d grown somewhat impatient with their slow pace. Riding atop this magnificent creature at an outright run had always been exhilarating. Hearing Aubrey’s laughter as the horse raced along Rotten Row, the three of them synchronized perfectly, was something Chance would never forget.

  He was being gifted with a second chance—a second chance at magic. He held her tightly as the trees and scenery flew past them. He would not lose her again. He would not.

  After less than a minute, Chance drew back and Guinevere slowed to a gallop, and then a trot and then a walk before halting completely.

  “Let’s you and I walk for a while, shall we?” At her nod, Chance swung his leg over the back of the horse and then, taking hold of Aubrey by the waist, lowered her to the ground beside him.

  Her eyes sparkled like twin emeralds and her cheeks had flushed. She had enjoyed that. She presented this calm, demure widow to the world but he’d seen the passion within her. S
he yearned to live life to the fullest.

  “Gwennie will be ready to cool off as well.” Chance lead her with one hand and offered his other elbow to his Princesse.

  “Was she beautiful? Did she like living at Secours?” He did not have to ask who Aubrey was referring to.

  “Lady Hannah. She’d just turned eighteen and barely weighed seven stones.”

  “How very tragic.” Chance had known Aubrey would have compassion for the young girl he’d been forced to marry, even at the cost of her own happiness.

  “It was. And she was already consumptive by the time we married. She confided to me that even in her youth, she’d never experienced good health. In answer to your second question, I think she found peace at Secours. My mother and Adelaide befriended her, as much as was possible. Hannah liked to keep to herself. I believe it was due to her upbringing. She’d been very protected.”

  Chance wished he could read Aubrey’s mind. He didn’t think she was angry with him over his marriage any longer, but she’d fallen into a thoughtful silence.

  “From the day we married, she was like a sister to me.”

  They’d arrived at the river’s edge. “I wish I’d brought some bread to feed the fowl.” She surprised him by saying. And then she turned and met his gaze. “I am glad you helped your sister. I think you may have been the perfect sort of husband to such a woman as… your wife.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  Chance released Guinevere so she could graze for the few minutes while he and Aubrey simply stood with one another staring across the water.

  “I dreamed of you,” he admitted.

  Aubrey made a small sound, something between a sigh and a sob—as though his declaration was something she wanted to know but also something she did not wish to hear.

 

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