My Dashing Duke

by Andresen, Tammy

  And it was sad. Noelle quite agreed with her on that matter. It was a dismal day when a female person abandoned the hopes and dreams she’d nurtured as a young girl. But there was another side to that sort of emotion too…

  “Father loved mother desperately. Remember, he used to tell all of us that she mattered more than the earth and the moon and all the stars in the sky to him.” Noelle stared down at her hands. “It’s as though he died when she died. I don’t think I could endure going through all of that. Ever.” If she’d learned anything from the past year it was that she needed to protect herself from the hurt that had ravaged her family.

  “But it’s possible he won’t die before you.”

  “Everybody dies, Holly. And if I die before him and he loves me, then I’ve left him to endure all that pain. No, I’ve decided love isn’t worth the risk.”

  “He doesn’t love you either, then?” Eve asked. Of course, her sister would wish to know all of the pertinent information.

  “No.” Noelle stared across at the wall. “He does not love me.”

  “He’s only making this offer because you saved his life? Because if that’s the case, he could come to resent you and I would avoid such a marriage; even friends can have a falling out.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought Mr. Clark saved his life.” Holly looked between her two sisters, confusion knitting her brow.

  “No, it was me.” Holly’s question was easiest to answer. “I couldn’t sleep again, and I was watching out the window.” But he hadn’t only asked because of the boon. He had wanted her to say yes. She distinctly remembered that.

  Her sisters absorbed Noelle’s predicament in silence, all the while watching her closely.

  “He is a baron,” Noelle reminded them. “He’ll be needing an heir.”

  More silence.

  “And he said he thought that he and I—that he thought he would like—”

  “He wants to bed you, doesn’t he?” Holly’s words sent a rush of heat climbing up Noelle’s neck. Because, yes. That was exactly what he’d said. And, Noelle winced inwardly, she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea herself.

  “I rather got that impression. Yes. But after doing…that, we would go our separate ways—aside from occasionally having to come together for the sake of the child.” Her heart sort of shriveled up a little as she uttered the words, but then she sat up straight. “I would not only be a baroness, but a woman of means. Both of you could have a proper season in London, more than one, I imagine, if you like. And perhaps marrying one of his daughters to a lord might perk father up a little…”

  “Do you like him?” A surprisingly astute question from Holly. Noelle stared at her little sister, who was not really all that little anymore. It was somewhat startling that this lovely young woman beside her was the same blonde little imp she’d grown up with.

  “I do. But I can’t allow myself to feel anything more than that. Because—”

  “Father.” Both of her sisters finished for her. They too seemed to realize how terrifying it would be to lose somebody that they loved as their father had.

  “Lord Blitzencreek is somewhat handsome with all that black hair and haughtiness,” Holly conceded. “If you like that sort.”

  “He’s positively dashing!” Noelle defended his looks. “I doubt I’ve ever seen such lovely lashes on a man, and his eyes are this extraordinary midnight blue color. When he smiles, the most adorable little dimple appears right here…” She trailed off as she touched the side of her face when she noticed wide smiles on both her sister’s faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Eve was shaking her head. “You speak as though you are halfway in love with him already.”

  “It is only because he had been so kind. After we are wed, I imagine that these…”

  “Butterflies?” Holly inserted.

  “Yes. These temporary butterflies will go away. And after the consummating business, we shall simply remain friends, just as Wollstonecraft suggests. It’s exactly like she recommends, actually.”

  “You wish to marry him then?” Eve asked.

  “Marriage is forever, and forever is a very long time.” When had Holly become so wise?

  If Noelle accepted Lord Blitzencreek’s offer, then everything would change. For better or for worse; the words in the wedding vows taunted her.

  But Noelle believed in her heart that her marriage had the potential to make everything better. She simply needed to keep possession of her heart.

  How difficult could that be? It belonged to her, after all.

  “I do want to marry him.” She swallowed hard.

  Because she did.

  Chapter Five

  Dash sat in his room, which had turned out to be room number one. How he’d missed that the night before, was almost laughable. He ran his hands through his hair, twinges of malcontent making him shift in his chair. This was what he was doing with his life? Drinking so much that he couldn’t remember the number one?

  His eyes focused out the window as more snow coated the already-blanketed ground. Damned snow. He’d take a good English rain any day over this dratted white wonderland. He would be stuck in Maybridge Falls for the rest of winter at this rate.

  Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing if Noelle consented to the match. They could have a Christmastide wedding and by the spring, she could be swelling with their first child.

  He sat forward in his chair. Had he just thought first? But of course, he reasoned, if a girl was born, then they’d have to try again. He wasn’t further committing himself to her company, only ensuring a proper heir.

  But somehow, the weather he’d just been cursing took on a new shape. Rather than a hindrance it was an excuse to stay inside by a warm fire, wrapped in the arms of a soft woman who smelled of cookies and Christmas.

  He closed his eyes. He wished he’d asked his parents how their relationship began. The fact that he didn’t know was somewhat ridiculous. The only hint he’d managed to get had come from arguments he’d overheard. His mother had once hurtled a vase and the words at his father’s head. “You stole my life when you bought off my parents.”

  His father had laughed loud and bitterly. “You couldn’t wait to be the bride of a duke. Don’t kid yourself. You’d have said yes for far less.”

  Dash had been hiding behind the curtains of the library where he’d remained long after the argument had ended.

  He did know that his mother had been the most sought-after debutante of her season, her beauty evident well into her age. He also knew that she was his father’s second wife, the first having died in childbirth along with the daughter she’d carried. Once and only once, he’d caught his father staring at a portrait of the other woman. Foolishly, he’d asked why his father looked so sad.

  He’d caught the switch for that well-intentioned question and the resulting welts had prevented him from ever asking about her again. But if he were to guess now, he might think that his father had been in love with his first wife and not his second. There had been a sadness in the duke’s eyes that even a boy could recognize.

  Simple enough except for all the hurt that the man had inflicted on Dash with his indifference—a thought that made him jump from his chair as though the furniture had suddenly caught fire. What sort of father would he be then? The type that disappeared for months on end chasing skirts and liquor. His own lip curled.

  He pictured Noelle and the way she’d attempted to give up her boon for her sister’s happiness. At least he could be consoled that he’d give his children a far better mother than his own.

  His own dearest mother spent endless nights away at parties, shopping, or primping herself. His father had called her a strutting peacock more than once. But either way, she’d left Dash to be cared for, hell, reared, by the constantly changing governesses of the house.

  No wonder he’d avoided marriage like the plague.

  Noelle, however, was nothing like his mother.

  The tho
ught gave him pause.

  He’d known that fact to be true, quite honestly, from the moment he met her. Was that why he’d been so drawn to his little Christmas cookie? The dowager duchess, he didn’t even like to think of her by the word mother, would never have stepped outside in a speck of rain, let alone a blizzard to help a stranger. Christ, he wasn’t certain she’d have aided a fellow human on a sunny spring day. She certainly wouldn’t have given such a powerful favor to another person. Dash scrubbed his hands along his thighs. No wonder he’d proposed.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts and Dash was almost appreciative of the reprieve as he stopped pacing back and forth and made his way across the room instead. Standing in the foyer, the innkeeper, who was looking quite apologetic, clutched a note in his hand. “Forgive me.” The man cleared his throat. “But this came for a Blitzencreek and your companions say it isn’t for them. I was wondering, Your Grace, if it might be—”

  “It is.” Dash reached out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Relief crossed the man’s face as he handed over the note. “Excellent.”

  With a nod, the man turned and left as Dash closed the door, crossing to the small writing desk to break open the seal. Scrawled in an odd sort of curvy handwriting was an invitation to dinner from Lady Tannenbaum. It seemed as though he’d be getting his answer tonight whether or not this unexpected sojourn in the country was going to be fruitful or not.

  He quickly penned his acceptance and left the room to find the innkeeper once again.

  Two hours later, he found himself crossing a very snowy town square, noting he would need new boots this spring. As he approached the house, an odd sort of nervousness tightened his chest.

  He knocked and Mr. Clark almost immediately allowed him into the house. Dash smirked. Because on this particular occasion, the man gave Dash an almost eager nod, his features relaxed and welcoming. “My lord,” a near smile broke out on the butler’s lips. “Good to see you again.”

  Dash gave a single quick jerk of his chin in response, already understanding why the butler was glad to see him. He’d proposed, thereby saving Noelle from any possible scandal. Of course, the man had changed his tune.

  Dash removed his hat and gloves and handed them over at the same time the unease flipped his stomach. Matters weren’t as simple as they ought to be.

  He needed to tell Noelle he wasn’t a baron but a duke. And he would. The question was, did he tell her before or after he had an answer to his proposal? He supposed it would be the honorable thing to come clean of his lie but then his thoughts jumped to his parents. His mother had wished to be a duchess far more than she’d wished to be his father’s wife. What if the knowledge that he was a duke influenced Noelle’s answer?

  He would wait.

  With that in mind, he entered the sitting room, his heartbeat racing in his chest as he caught sight of Noelle on the settee. How was it she appeared even lovelier than when he’d left her just a few hours before?

  She rose from her seat, the color blooming in her cheeks as her green eyes connected with his.

  He barely paid attention to the conversation as he took a seat next to her, the heat of her body so close that it ignited something inside of him. But it was more than desire—more than lust.

  Lady Tannenbaum cleared her throat. “Holly and Eve, let’s go see how dinner preparations fare. You know how cook can be. We’d hate to see the lovely meal we’ve planned burn.”

  Holly tsked softly. “Auntie, why not hire a new cook?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Lady Tannenbaum replied. “Whatever would I do with myself if I didn’t have her to watch over?”

  Noelle covered her mouth with her hand, the giggle escaping her lips stirring more unfamiliar warmth in Dash.

  He turned to her, skimming his gaze along her slender arm and over the soft features of her face as the room suddenly cleared. “Your aunt is an interesting sort of lady.”

  One of Noelle’s shoulders rose and fell. “She’s a dowager countess.”

  His own eyebrows rose. “And she resides here, in Maybridge Falls? Year round?”

  Noelle’s hand dropped. “Her family owned this cottage before her marriage. When my uncle passed, she returned. Said there were things from her youth she hoped to recapture.”

  He shook his head. He’d never experienced that sort of affection. What would it be like? “I didn’t realize you were that close to your aunt.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not. We lived on the other side of England but my mother and her sister corresponded regularly. She told us of her sister’s choice.”

  “And your parents? Were they a love match too?”

  He watched her face change. Dropping her head, her mouth pinched, her brows drawing together. “They were.”

  He sucked in his breath, doubts making it difficult to breathe. She was about to tell him she’d never accept a marriage of convenience. If her family had raised her to believe in love, she wouldn’t take such a dank proposal as his.

  “And did you wish to find love in your marriage?” he asked, cursing himself for allowing the words to slip past his lips. But part of him needed to know. When had he become so invested in her answer?

  One delicate shoulder rose and fell again. “I did.” Then she turned to him and tentatively reached for his hand. “But I also love my sisters and I know that they need me now.” She drew in a deep breath. “Besides. I’ve seen what love can do. My father is a shell of a man without my mother.” Her voice shook as she squeezed his fingers. “For both those reasons, I’ve decided to accept your proposal.”

  Relief made his shoulders sag. He’d done it. He’d gotten himself engaged and rather than feeling a noose tighten around his neck, anticipation coursed through him.

  “That’s excellent news.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” She gave him a glowing smile even as she gripped his fingers tightly. Perhaps she was as nervous as he.

  Reaching up, he touched her cheek with his other hand, noting the soft velvet of her skin.

  He leaned closer, drawing in her sweet scent of cinnamon and cloves.

  Quite unable to help himself, he leaned in closer still and captured her lips with his own. He had foggy memories of the taste and feel of her from their first kiss. Like a dream, he recalled the vague details of her mouth. But this kiss was real and sharp and it set him to flame.

  Her mouth, supple and yielding under his, met him kiss for kiss as he tasted her lips over and over. He slid his hand from her cheek and around the back of her neck, tilting her head to better sample her sweet delights.

  She gave the softest moan into his mouth and his entire body clenched with need. At that sound, he guided her lips open and swiped his tongue against the tip of hers. She shuddered in his arms, her free hand gripping the front of his jacket as she met his tongue with a thrust of her own. Bloody hell, he’d been right. Noelle was going to make an excellent bed mate. The very idea made desire throb through his core and letting go of her hand, he settled his palm on her hip, intent on pulling her closer.

  “Noelle,” a voice cried from far away. “Oh, Noelle, you must come quickly.”

  He lifted his head, his brow drawing low. What could be so important?

  “What?” she asked, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

  Suddenly, her aunt pushed through the door, wringing her hands. “It’s Cook. The roast is absolutely ruined.”

  A breath rumbled from his throat. Who bloody cared about a roast? He’d been sampling dessert. But Noelle shot up from the settee. “Oh dear,” she answered. “Pardon me, my lord.”

  He stood too, leaning down close to her ear. “To you, my sweet, it’s Dash.”

  * * *

  Smoke burned Noelle’s eyes as she took the roast, still in the pan, from Aunt Winifred and tossed the entire meal outside into the snow. The cast iron hissed as it landed in the fluffy white bank. Staring at the steam rising from the ground, she stood on the icy walk outside the kitchen door and touch
ed her hands to her cheek. Perhaps she ought to throw herself into a drift as well.

  His name was Dash.

  Dash. It suited him perfectly. It sounded fast, and masculine, and strong, but also light-hearted. Touching her lips, she wondered what would have happened if the roast hadn’t caught on fire. Would he have kept right on kissing her? Would he have done more?

  Impossible! They’d been sitting in Aunt Winifred’s parlor. And yet his kisses had left her breasts feeling achy and tender and an empty feeling between her thighs.

  She inhaled the freezing air in an attempt to slow her racing heart.

  He’d asked if she was afraid of love—and she was—and then he’d kissed her. And his lips were even more kissable now than they had been before. Noelle dropped her fingertips to her chest, wondering what it would feel like—

  “He promised to be so very delicious.” Holly’s voice from the doorway made her jump.

  “Dash?” Noelle dropped her hand quickly to her waist. Had her sister seen him kissing her?

  “And Fiddlesticks.” Holly agreed. Noelle blinked. But of course, Holly was talking about the roast! She blinked again and then grinned. Although, Lord Blitzencreek was indeed delicious as well.

  “Do you think we ought to perform last rights?” Holly strolled out to stare at the steaming blemish in the snow.

  “He was an upstanding piece of meat. Loyal, lean, and true.” Eve stepped down to join them, one hand on her heart.

  “And I’d wager to guess he would have been tender and juicy, as well.” Holly added. “He sacrificed his life in order to become a main course.”

  “A tragic main course, for certain.”

  “But alas, it was not to be.” Noelle could not help but apply some of these descriptions to Lord—to Dash. Stifling a mischievous grin, she bent down to toss a handful of snow onto their dearly departed roast. Just as she reached out, however, two hands shoved at her from the side, causing her to lose her balance and tumble head first into the untouched snowdrift. As her face planted into the fluffy cold, Holly’s giggles rang out in delight.