My Dashing Duke

by Andresen, Tammy

  “You won’t let him die? He seems to be a decent sort of gentleman.” She flicked her gaze to the man whose life she’d just saved and grimaced. “Despite his current condition.”

  “I will not allow him to die, Lady Noelle. But you must go back to bed. If anyone outside this house asks, it was I who brought him in. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, grateful for his help both in bringing the man inside and protecting her reputation. “Of course. Thank you.”

  With one last look, Noelle released her hold on the handsome wretch and then scurried up the stairs.

  Oh, my. Kissable, indeed!

  Chapter Two

  Dash woke to the sound of people milling about. Where the hell was he? He scrubbed his face, searching his memory. Snow, an inn, ale, more snow, more ale. Christ…had he gone out into the storm? He pried open his lids and lifted the covers. By God, he was naked.

  He dropped the covers back into place, trying to remember when exactly he’d undressed. His head pounded and his stomach lurched as he licked his parched lips. Did they taste faintly of gingerbread?

  The vaguest sort of memory flitted through his thoughts. A snow angel with creamy skin and lush pink lips that bestowed kisses to men trapped in snowbanks. She’d had dark hair and…he paused, looking about the room.

  Was there a lace canopy over his head? The coverlet he’d lifted moments before was pale pink with matching drapes. Dear lord, he looked to the side. The pillow under his head was embroidered. No public inn had ever, in the history of England, been so frilly.

  The door opened and a tall man entered carrying a tray with hands encased in pristine white gloves. Dash noted the tray gleamed a polished silver before he spotted the pot of steaming tea and crackers on its surface. He nearly cried with relief.

  Until a giggle sounded from behind the man. “Oh my,” a feminine voice called from behind. “Can you see him, Noelle? Is he—”

  A different female voice finished. “Handsome?”

  “Stop, both of you, I beg you,” a third female replied.

  He saw a woman with flaming red hair look over the top of the butler’s shoulder. “Stop? This is the most interesting thing that’s happened to us in ages.”

  Another blonde-haired minx peeked around the side of the man. “Interesting isn’t the proper word. I’d say it was—”

  “Ladies,” the man in the doorway called out sharply. “Please give our guest some privacy.”

  They giggled and scurried off at the same time a dark dread filled Dash’s stomach. He was naked in a woman’s house. Please let her be a widow, or married, or old. But memories of the night before sharpened. Dark hair paired with green eyes and sweet lips. If she were a maiden…

  The man closed the door behind him. “You may address me as Mr. Clark and I am the butler of the house. You are the guest of Lady Winifred Tannenbaum. Those women are her nieces, one of whom saved your life last night.”

  Feck. Saved by the niece. She was an unmarried woman for certain. “How fortunate for me.” Hopefully the man did not note the sarcasm dripping from those words. He’d rather die than be married. Which was ridiculous. As a duke, he’d have to enter the dreaded state of matrimony eventually, but he rather looked at the event like one might consider one’s own funeral. An ironic chuckle escaped his lips. Sure, there would be a party but he’d be as good as dead so what did he care?

  The butler cleared his throat, pouring steaming tea into a delicate cup of fine porcelain. “It was me who brought you upstairs and took off your wet clothing. They are hanging just there.” The man set down the cup and reached out a gloved hand to carefully arrange the items on the bedside table. “Lady Noelle, however, was the person who saw you land in the snow and came out to rescue you.”

  Feck. Feck. She was a lady even. There’d be no avoiding the noose now. His parents had taught him early on that matrimony was a state to avoid at all costs. “I’ll have to thank her for her efforts.” Dash took his first sip of tea. The hot liquid soothed his throat and almost instantly diminished the ache in his head.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Clark leaned forward, staring down at Dash, his brows drawing together. “In fact, you need never acknowledge that you met Lady Noelle at all.”

  Dash took another sip of his tea trying to swallow the irritation that had risen up in his throat. “You don’t want her associated with me?” Mamas from all over England had spent the better part of the last decade attempting to throw their daughters across his path. Of course, this man didn’t know he was speaking to the Duke of Dashlington and Dash ought to be grateful. He didn’t want to marry, for feck’s sake. But the very idea that this butler was attempting to intimidate him into silence was galling. “I see.”

  Clark straightened. “Very good. Lady Noelle is lovely and will do well on the marriage market once her father sees fit—” The man stopped. “Your gift to her to repay her kindness can be your silence.” Pressing one hand to his stomach and one to his back, the man gave a short bow. “Once you’ve eaten, please dress and leave.”

  Dash took another swallow of his tea. “Don’t you even want to know who I am first?” He couldn’t leave well enough alone. He’d done far worse than swallow his pride in order to avoid wedded hell. Surely, he could stand a bit of guff from a butler. But then again, he wanted to see his little snow fairy, find out why she tasted like gingerbread, and what had possessed her to venture into a blizzard in order to rescue him.

  Curiosity would indeed kill the cat.

  The man frowned, deep lines setting in his face. “Who are you? Besides a man who gets drunk enough to pass out in a snowdrift?”

  Well, decision time had come. Did Dash tell him the truth or did he lie? Could he meet his little nymph without revealing to her that he was a duke? “I’m the Baron of Blitzencreek among other things.”

  The butler took a half step back, his eyes widening. Dash had a moment’s satisfaction as the man tried and failed to utter a coherent sentence. He was Blitzencreek to be fair. It was one of his lesser titles. Hopefully the low rank and his drunkenness ensured the family did not seek a match but allowed him to meet his snow angel properly, then thank her, and see one more time if she was as lovely as he remembered.

  “Once you are dressed, you may join Lady Noelle in the front parlor.” Mr. Clark spun on heel and left the room.

  Dash gulped down the rest of his tea and stuffed several crackers into his mouth. Then he rose to dress. His body ached and his head still swam, but he wouldn’t miss this meeting for all the world. Would she be as enchanting as his fuzzy memory had painted her to be?

  * * *

  Noelle steadied her rapid breath and smoothed her skirts around her as she waited in Aunt Winifred’s favorite parlor. When Mr. Clark informed her that their guest, the Baron of Blitzencreek, wished to meet with her, she’d nodded regally and pretended that she was not turning cartwheels inside.

  And then she’d fled upstairs to her room to check her hair. And then she’d changed.

  In and out of three different gowns.

  He was a Baron. Her pulse jumped. How absolutely magnificent. It was almost as though everything that had happened last night may have been an answer to her prayers.

  She burst to her feet when a knock sounded, effectively cutting off her train of thought.

  “Lord Blitzencreek, Miss Noelle.” Mr. Clark allowed the baron to enter and then removed himself from the room. Noelle frowned when she saw that he’d left the door partially ajar.

  But when she turned back to greet the Baron, all thoughts of Mr. Clark fled.

  Lord Blitzencreek was much taller than she’d remembered. Of course, she’d known he was big—so big that she’d barely managed to get his person to the front door of her aunt’s house, but she’d not realized that he was also so very…

  Imposing.

  Yes. That word described him quite accurately. She tilted her head back and studied his hair. Last night she’d run her fingers through the thick, ebon
y strands. Her gaze trailed down to his face. He must have borrowed one of Mr. Clark’s razors as his chin was now clean and stark, revealing a definitively strong jawline.

  And then she was staring at his lips. Those lips that she’d––

  “Lady Noelle?” His voice halted her inspection of him.

  His eyes were blue, such a dark-colored blue that they almost appeared black. She hadn’t noticed that before. She blinked, needing to escape from the intensity of his scrutiny.

  “Please sit down, my lord.” And why would she have noticed his eyes? It had been dark outside and he’d been passed out most of the time. She gestured for him to sit in one of the larger chairs and lowered herself onto the settee across from it.

  “I hope you are feeling much improved from last night,” she offered, pinning her gaze to the top button of his jacket. Gold, with an elegant “D” in the center. What did the D stand for? Surely not Blitzencreek.

  “Quite.” He answered in an even tone that revealed little.

  “I’m glad to hear it. You were out cold.” Noelle added, finally garnering enough courage to meet his eyes. “I rather took you for dead at first.”

  In answer, he blinked twice, drawing her attention again to his lovely lashes. “Going outside in the storm like that was the height of stupidity. I beg your forgiveness. If I hadn’t dipped into my cups so egregiously, you would not have had to risk yourself by leaving your home to help me.”

  “It was—”

  “Although, you ought to have sent out a servant, rather than risk the storm yourself. You put yourself in a good deal of danger, Lady Noelle. You’re fortunate I wasn’t a dodgy sort of fellow.”

  “You’re lucky I suffer from insomnia,” she inserted when he finally took a breath. “Are you always this condescending to people who save your life?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” His eyes seemed a shade lighter when he smiled. He was teasing her now. She had expected his abject gratitude and he was giving her…

  This.

  She pinched her lips to keep from grinning back.

  “You do value your life, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.” He sat up straight.

  “So you weren’t attempting to snuff it out?”

  “Of course not.”

  “In that case,” Noelle turned her head to seemingly contemplate the snow-covered lawn and shrubbery and trees. “I would have thought you’d show a tad more gratitude.”

  For ten whole seconds, all she heard after that was the ticking of the clock.

  She would have preferred to smile at him, and flirt with him for a few minutes first, but she might only have one opportunity to accomplish that which she’d set out to do. This was no time to give into an inconvenient attraction. And although she felt rather sorry for him, neither could she afford to go easy on him.

  She turned to meet his gaze, cocking one eyebrow as she awaited his answer. She’d practiced doing that for hours. Her father used to do it to her mother and she’d seen it accomplish wonders.

  “Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” He cocked one of his own eyebrows back in return.

  Noelle grimaced. “Are you?”

  He nodded, unsmiling, although she might have seen one corner of his mouth jump. “I shall be eternally grateful to you, Lady Noelle, for saving my sorry person from a most ignoble death. If there is anything, anything at all that I can do to repay you, you must bring it to my attention at once.”

  And there it was.

  Noelle tapped a finger against her chin. “Actually…”

  He sighed. “Except for that.”

  “But you just said—!”

  “Yes, well. I lied. Name anything but that. I absolutely refuse to marry.”

  At his outright refusal before she’d even been able to suggest it, Noelle pouted. “Don’t you think your life is equal in value to an offer of matrimony?”

  He shrugged. “Not to me.” He held her gaze and she refused to look away in defeat.

  “Are you not a man of honor?”

  At these words, a slight inkling of discomfort entered the back of his midnight blue eyes.

  “Surely, you are in want of something else, something just as valuable. I promise you, I’d make a sorry excuse for a husband.” He even looked a little apologetic by now. Noelle deepened her pout. “I shouldn’t have asked you to kiss me. It was unforgivable, really.”

  “It really was.” She agreed. But she had liked it. Her eyes flicked to his lips and he grinned at her again. “Quite,” she added for good measure. Because this meeting and the boon she wished to collect wasn’t about her. She’d have to find some other kissable lips on some other gentleman.

  “But I cannot.” He clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders.

  “Cannot? Or will not?”

  “Both. Neither.” He shook his head and then winced.

  “I suppose I’ll simply have to write to my father then.” She sighed heavily. When she flicked a sideways glance in his direction, she realized he’d winced again.

  “No need to be hasty.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Sitting alone with him, speaking of such intimate matters, made the room seem much smaller than it had before. Noelle took a deep breath.

  “True.” She agreed, resisting an urge to lean closer to him. If only her heart would slow down a little, she could remember what she’d been going to suggest.

  “Have you lived in Maybridge Falls for long?” His question surprised her.

  “Five days.” It felt like forever. “My father sent me and my sisters to live here with our aunt. Lady Tannenbaum. We haven’t exactly…settled in yet.”

  “Do you like it here?” He seemed more relaxed now as he awaited her answer.

  Noelle bit her lip. If her sisters weren’t so unhappy or if Christmas wasn’t just around the corner... “Yes.” She admitted. She did rather like this small little village. “What of you? Do you live here?”

  “Just passing through. Stranded by the storm.”

  “Ah.” This information left her feeling disappointed. Would he leave soon? If he did, would she see him again?

  “I have been wondering.” He leaned back and crossed one ankle over his knee. “How it was that you came to see me. It was rather late, if my memory serves me correctly. More morning than night.” He seemed genuinely curious.

  “I…don’t sleep…very much.” She wondered if he noticed the circles beneath her eyes. Did he think she was pretty?

  A few lines marred his perfect face when he frowned. “What could possibly keep a lovely woman such as yourself from sleeping?”

  Warmth spread through her. In answer, she shrugged. She couldn’t really tell this perfect stranger all of her worries. Which reminded her… “Perhaps you wish to take some time to think matters over. You could return this afternoon for tea with your answer.”

  “Matters? My answer?”

  “I presume you are an honorable gentleman? I am most thankful to have seen you in your time of need but please understand that I am also in need. And the boon that I ask would be payment for saving your life.” She needed to remind him of that fact if she was to accomplish what she’d set out to do.

  When the meaning of her words penetrated his handsome brain—not handsome—befuddled. Brains are not handsome, Noelle! Anyhow, he raised that brow of his, causing her to raise hers back.

  “Marriage?” He confirmed.

  “Yes. That.”

  “You wish to have my answer in…” He withdrew a timepiece from his pocket and glanced at it. “Less than four hours?”

  “Yes. And I urge you to consider it carefully. Because if you refuse, you shall have to live all of your life knowing that you failed to honor your debt to Lady Noelle Bailey, for the rest of your days.”

  “You’re a prickly little thing, did you know that?” He seemed to be half amused by her, half irritated. While his eyebrows furrowed, his lips held the hint of a grin. And…something else. S
ome other light burned in his eyes.

  She shrugged again. This time feeling slightly apologetic. “I’m sure my sisters would agree with you.”

  He seemed at a loss. And he ought to be. He had a good deal of thinking to do. “Well then.” He finally answered. Which was no answer at all, really.

  Noelle rose from her chair a little reluctantly. “Are you staying at the inn?”

  Good heavens, but he towered above her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps. Afraid I’ll pack up and leave town?”

  “Not at all, my lord. Because a true gentleman can never escape his conscience—no matter how far he travels. And I,” she tilted her head to study him, “believe I am correct in thinking you precisely that.”

  He was shaking his head at her. “We shall see about that.”

  Perhaps it would be best if she never saw him again.

  Because when he bent over Noelle’s hand, and then brushed the back of her wrist with his lips…

  A thousand butterflies took flight.

  Chapter Three

  His little nymph was actually rather cheeky, Dash thought, as he reached for her hand to bring it to his lips. Not that she belonged to him. She most certainly didn’t.

  Nor did he mind a little pep in a lady’s step. Such pluck usually made for more interesting bed partners and companions in general. Still, this would have been far easier if she were the simple sort. The kind of woman who only smiled and nodded.

  The sort of debutante he met so often in London. Full of ideas about ribbons and lace and not much else.

  He assessed the lady in front of him. Dark hair and sparkling green eyes were what stood out first. She was petite, though she had enough curves to keep a man warm through the long winter months.

  A pert little nose gave way to high cheekbones, colored with a blush of pale pink, the matching shade on her soft full lips. No wonder he’d commandeered a kiss. How could a man resist that mouth?