What the Dashing Duke Deserves (Lords of Happenstance, #3)

by Sandra Sookoo

Once more she lifted her chin in challenge. “I can look after myself.”

  “Even still, you shouldn’t have to. Thus, the escort.” If she was stubborn, he could be even more so.

  “I am a King’s agent, not a helpless lady.”

  “Then consider my presence one of friendship, of an agent looking after one of his family.” She could argue until dawn, but he wouldn’t change his mind.

  Juliana let out a tiny huff of frustration. “There are times when I don’t know what to make of you.” At her door, she pressed the latch and opened the panel. “I haven’t decided if that’s a good or bad thing.”

  “If I can manage to keep you guessing, then I’m already ahead. Mystery means a lady’s interest engaged. Until tonight, Miss Barrington.” For the first time it occurred to him that she didn’t go by her husband’s name. Why? The muscles of his stomach clenched. Was she even now lying to him? Just another subject he’d need to broach with her sooner rather than later. He waited until she was safely inside before continuing along the hall to his own room located two doors down.

  After he ordered a bath and cleaned off the evidence of the day, Crispin indulged in a nap, which ended when his valet came in to help him dress.

  “Do try not to destroy the clothes this evening, my lord,” Humphries stated with a touch of droll humor.

  Crispin rolled his eyes. “A visit to the tomb is not in the offing tonight. Trust me.” The sky blue waistcoat embroidered with birds complimented the dark navy of his superfine jacket. He adjusted the knot of his cravat, attached his pocket watch to his waistcoat and then let the valet assist with his boots. If there was a remote chance of enjoying the courtyard, there was the possibility of snakes and scorpions. Therefore, boots were necessary over dress shoes.

  “Thank goodness for that.” The man shot him a grin that took years off his slightly pock-marked face. “The whole of my time is taken up with cleaning your clothes.”

  “Sorry for the inconvenience, old chap.” He clapped a hand to the valet’s shoulder. “I’ll endeavor to wear only one set when toiling.”

  “Get on with you.” Humphries raked a hand through his black hair. “It won’t due to arrive late. I’m told the countess is a formidable force.”

  “That she is.” Crispin grinned. “One of the best women I know.” Before he could make inroads into leaving the room, the door was flung open. Two children stood in the frame—the earl’s offspring, Jane and Charles. “Hello, children.” He’d briefly met the two upon arrival the night before. “Perhaps knocking would serve you better next time. Wouldn’t want to catch a man in his altogether.”

  “I always forget and Mama always reminds me.” The golden-haired girl sauntered into the room. Her bright blue eyes twinkled as she regarded him. “Your looks are nice but not as nice as Uncle Jonathan.” She tapped her little chin with a forefinger. “Papa said you are a duke.”

  “I am.” Crispin exchanged a glance with Humphries, who then shrugged and quit the area for his adjoining room, which was situated between Crispin’s and Juliana’s. “But while I’m on this dig, you may call me Crispin.” Were children a part of his future? Too early to tell. He’d yet to indulge in a romance and thinking about a family was folly at best if he couldn’t secure a life mate.

  “Papa an earl,” Charles said as he trailed his sister into the room. His mop of black curls combined with his brown eyes gave him an air of mischief reminiscent of his father. “He is brave.”

  “I know he is.”

  “I am brave too.”

  “No doubt you are.” Were the children given free reign all over the house? Surely that wasn’t safe. “What can I do for you, Lady Jane?”

  “Sit next to me at dinner. Mama said I could be there since we aren’t in London.” She tilted her head to one side as she regarded him. “Perhaps I’ll marry you when I grow up.”

  With difficulty, Crispin quelled his laughter lest she thought he made jest of her. “I will most definitely sit next to you. We can talk of adventures and what you are digging up.” For he’d seen the children working in the sand near the tomb’s entrance before their governess had come to escort them back to the house.

  “That is acceptable.” She took her brother’s hand. “Come, Charles. Let’s go visit Miss Barrington. I want to see her gown.”

  “It seems she stole my idea,” Crispin said to himself. Visiting Juliana now would bring him once more into contact with the children, and he didn’t wish to rush her toilette. There was time enough to talk with her. “Perhaps the countess is free for a quick chat.”

  I need to curb this appalling trait of talking to myself. He assumed he’d squelched the habit once he’d risen to the ranks of a duke and had too many people always underfoot.

  Apparently not.

  A search for the countess ended in a well-appointed drawing room. Various antiquities rested on shelves and in curio cabinets. Low sofas and settees were arranged in pleasant groupings along with leather chairs and small round tables inlaid with ivory. A handful of other guests mingled, all vying for Lady Archewyne’s attention. She smiled and chatted with each person as if they were the only one in the world, which meant Crispin needed to wait for an audience.

  Alternately bored and impatient, he walked the perimeter of the room as he eyed each guest. Four men and one woman, each wearing English-styled clothes. One of them men was the surgeon brought with the earl from London. He approached a young lady, who was perhaps not more than five and twenty.

  “Good evening. I’m the Duke of Litton.” What an awkward way to address himself.

  “Hullo.” She dropped a slight curtsy. “I’m Miss Francine Hogarth, the painter for this expedition.”

  “Charmed.” He availed himself of her hand, brought it to his lips and then kissed the back of it. Of course an artist would come in handy to preserve reliefs found on the tombs walls. It was something he never would have thought of. “I assume you have prior acquaintance of either Lord or Lady Archewyne?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, and her upswept red hair gleamed a burnished copper in the candlelight. Curiosity winked in her green eyes. “I’m the daughter of a colleague of the earl’s. When the subject of my skill with a paintbrush came about, Lord Archewyne offered me a position on the dig, so I came with my aunt. She’ll be along shortly.”

  “Good luck with it. I look forward to seeing what you do with all we uncover.” From the corner of his eye, he saw that the crowd about Lady Archewyne had thinned. “If you’ll excuse me?” Tempering the urge to bolt across the room, Crispin kept a leisurely pace until he reached the countess. “Good evening, Lady Archewyne.”

  “Crispin, how nice to see you again.” She held out her hands and he took them both, squeezing her fingers in greeting. Pleasure glowed in her emerald eyes, the color all the deeper by the green gown she wore, the folds of which did little to conceal her rounded belly.

  “You as well, Countess. I had the pleasure of briefly speaking with Lady Jane and Master Charles before seeking you out.”

  “Oh, I fear those children will be the death of me.” When she shook her head, a rueful grin curved her lips. “They’d managed to escape Miss Sammerson. Again, and yet here I am, ready to bear another.” She laughed, and he couldn’t help but join her. “I fear I should have hired an army to tend the children instead of one woman. I wonder if England is ready.”

  “If she is not, she’ll learn to grow strong with all the rest of us.”

  “True.” Lady Archewyne once more patted his forearm. “What did you think about your first day of work?”

  “It was more difficult than I’d expected, but it was exhilarating nonetheless.” He released her fingers with a grin. “I’ve long waited for this chance.”

  “I’ll wager you have.”

  “Are you feeling well in this heat?” The countess would give birth to her second child in almost three months.

  “I am well enough.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Please don’t be like the rest of the m
en here who lecture me on what I should do or say I should stay inside with my feet up.” A tinkling laugh escaped her. “Do you know how incredibly dull that would be? I’m quite capable of spending time at the tomb during the morning hours, and I make certain not to lift heavy baskets.”

  Crispin chuckled. “You are in your element here as you are anywhere else.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And you even find time to host events.”

  She shrugged. “We hardly need to forget the niceties merely because we’re removed from London.”

  “Unless it is the very shackles of London one wishes to escape if only for a brief time.”

  “Ah.” The countess peered into his face, and he held his breath for fear she’d discover all of his secrets, for she was quite proficient in that. “What is on your mind? I can see it in your eyes.”

  Nothing eluded her notice. His chest tightened at the knowledge. “It is your husband, quite frankly.” Would she take offense?

  But, once more, the countess surprised him. “Oh? What has Miles done now? Ever since he embarked upon this trip, he’s been excitable.”

  “He’s given me a mission.” Quickly, Crispin explained about the Staff of the Gods as well as Juliana’s part in the whole mess. “But Archewyne is forever butting in and trying to usurp my authority.” Crispin blew out a breath. “It’s stifling.” He met her gaze. “I need him to remove himself to his dig and leave me to my task.”

  “I see.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “You wish for a chance to prove yourself, to show him that he wasn’t wrong in appointing you a King’s agent.”

  “Precisely.” He nodded. “Over and above that, if Juliana is to redeem herself, Archewyne must give her that chance as well.” His gaze didn’t waver. “The man cannot shelter us. We have to meet whatever trials and challenges await us of our own freewill.”

  All gaiety faded from her features. “He tries so hard to keep you all from harm, ever since Rathesborne...”

  “I know, but that is not his cross to bear. We recognized the risk when we signed on with the organization.” He flashed a grin meant to disarm. “If I may be so bold, Lady Archewyne, that is part of the fun.”

  “I agree. Miles must understand that keeping England safe requires the strength of many men and women; he cannot do it alone.” A trace of shadows clouded her eyes, gone with her next blink. “After tonight, you will have your lead. The tomb work will keep Miles busy, and if it doesn’t, I shall do the rest. I promise you.”

  “Thank you.” Crispin took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I sincerely appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

  “You are most welcome.” Once more, the countess peered into his face. “I must ask you a personal question, Crispin, and please indulge me, for being enceinte does isolate me at times.” She flashed a smile that did much to calm him. “Are you interested in Miss Barrington romantically?”

  “I... I find her refreshing and troubling and intriguing.” Heat rose up the back of his neck, and he resisted the urge to tug on his cravat. “I am on a mission, and that takes precedence. Archewyne tells me that enough times.”

  “Pish posh.” Lady Archewyne waved a hand in dismissal. “Miles is sometimes a hypocrite, and he forgets his history.” Her grin widened. “You deserve to let some good into your life after spending months mired in your shadow-ridden title, so I caution you, do not wait too long, for life is quite fleeting.”

  “It is, and I only hope I can reconcile everything I wish to do with who I am.” Restlessness crawled over his skin like ants. “However.”

  “Yes?” Her eyebrows rose.

  “If I wanted to blend business with pleasure, I’d like to take Juliana around Luxor to the sites. She’s not been anywhere, you see, since she arrived in Egypt.”

  “What a fine idea. An enjoyable way to pass the time.”

  “As well as doing mission research.” After blowing out a breath, he said, “Excuse me. I’m going to find out what Juliana’s delay is.”

  “Oh, be patient.” Her smile was sly. “She probably wishes to make a statement with her arrival. There’s precious little romance to work with here as it is.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She’s not like that.” And then he fled like the coward he was, ran from the drawing room and down the corridor into the hallway where the sleeping quarters were housed. Just as he raised a hand to rap on her door, the panel swung inward and the woman herself stood in the frame. “You’re bloody gorgeous,” he breathed as he looked at her.

  A smile brightened her features and it reflected in her cornflower blue eyes. “I suppose a bath and fresh clothes does make a difference.” She smoothed her hands down the front of a blue gown the same color as her eyes. A vivid yellow sash highlighted her waist. Other ribbons trimmed her bodice, hem and elbow-length sleeves. Her golden hair fell from a high topknot, the long curls flowing over her left shoulder. In such a frock, she resembled the English countryside on a fine summer’s day.

  “No, it’s more than that. It’s quite you. The gown is merely window dressing.” Crispin held up his hands in a bid to keep her there. “Please, don’t move.” Then he dashed to his own door, stumbling into the room while his heart pounded. He rooted about in one of his trunks until he found a small leather pouch. “Yes, this is the ticket.” Once he’d yanked the bauble free, he returned to the corridor, and by that time, Juliana had strolled toward his position.

  “Crispin, are you all right?” Concern threaded through her voice.

  The scent of jasmine wrapped itself about him, drawing him close. “Quite.” He presented his hand and unfurled his fingers. A bracelet rested on his palm. Cabochons a half inch long and a quarter inch wide winked in the candlelight, deep blue sapphires as well as yellow citrines set in delicate silver filigree. “Every lady needs a statement piece when attending any social event,” he all but whispered.

  She sucked in a breath as she bounced her gaze between the jewelry and his face. “This is from your shop.”

  “Yes. I remembered you always admired it each time you visited.”

  “I did, but the price was too high, and I feared I’d lose it while on a mission.” A tiny sigh escaped her. “I hinted enough times to Phillip, but he never bought it for me.”

  “I rather doubt that something you’ve always wanted would slip from your sight so easily, and since he didn’t come up to the mark, I am.” Emboldened by the rapidly shifting emotions in her eyes, he took her hand and then slipped the bracelet about her gloved wrist, being certain the clasp caught. He held onto her fingers. “Enjoy it, for it quite belongs to you.”

  “It’s too much,” she whispered, but she held onto his hand, her eyes wide with wonder and gratitude.

  “Nay, it’s not nearly enough.” If she were his, he’d give her so much more, make certain she was bedecked in luxuries afforded by his title, and beyond that, he’d protect her, keep her from harm, be the balm she needed to heal all the hurts holding her back. “Juliana, I—”

  “Hush.” With her free hand, she pressed her gloved fingers to his lips. “Do not say anything you might regret weeks from now.”

  He shook his head. “Never a regret.” His words were muffled.

  “Trust me, when you know everything, you would.” Then she dropped her hand. “Escort me to the drawing room. I mustn’t forget to make an appearance.” Shadows filled her eyes and grief emerged the victor in the battle. “Please. I’d like to remember the evening with gaiety instead of sorrow.”

  Did that mean she wouldn’t welcome a suit from him? Not knowing the answer and too much of a coward to ask, he threaded her hand through his crooked elbow. “Then by all means, let us see what the countess has in store for us tonight.” Juliana hadn’t outright refused him, and the bracelet looked splendid on her wrist. But his heart had developed a queer little ache that bothered him more than it should.

  How curious.

  Chapter Eleven

  Juliana couldn’t help but ad
mire how the candlelight in the drawing room winked off the gems in the bracelet. Two sets of French-paned glass doors were thrown open to the night, and the gentle breeze, redolent with the scents of sunbaked sand and the night blooming jasmine and gardenias growing in pots beyond the doors filled the rooming, beckoning to her. The low tones of conversation interspersed with genteel laughter flowed through the room, and she glanced about at the guests.

  Lord and Lady Archewyne stood at the center of a cluster of admirers. The young lady painter looked on with wide eyes as she lingered next to an older woman reclining on a settee. The surgeon—a fine-looking gentleman with glints of silver in his dark hair—talked with a tall, slim woman Juliana guessed to be the governess. The earl’s two children played quietly in a corner with a wooden duck on wheels they pulled with a string. Beyond those people, there was the foreman of the dig—whose slightly stooped posture was a testament to hours spent in labor—both Miles’ valet as well as Crispin’s man-of-all-work were in attendance. Two other men chatted to the countess, yet she didn’t recognize them. They must be patrons or archeologists in neighboring dig sites. Though gaiety lingered in the air, there was rather a shocking lack of females in the crowd.

  But then, archeology was strictly a male-dominated field. Given half the chance, Juliana would change that... if she hadn’t chosen to become a King’s agent, and she was happy to make strides of change there. That brought her thoughts back around to her current circumstances and the man to whose arm she still held. Knowing it would seem as if she had a claim to him, she dropped her hand. I have no business courting a romance, and to another King’s agent. Nothing but folly lies down that path.

  “Why did you bring this particular piece of jewelry?” She shook her wrist. Candlelight refracted off the gems. “You had no way of knowing you would see me, and I certainly hadn’t a clue you’d arrive in Cairo.” Yet there was the bracelet, resting on her wrist, the same bauble she’d admired countless times while in his Brooks Street pawn shop while she’d surreptitiously browsed for Egyptian antiquities.