The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke

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The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke Page 23

by Sandra Masters


  “What kind of book?” he asked as he sought to engage your eyes.

  “What do you know of raising children?”

  She laughed. “That I couldn’t write a book.”

  Wolferton went to her and pulled her into his embrace. “This is your idea of adventurous?”

  “Yes, for it will contain my most treasured secrets. In many ways, it will be cathartic, a cleansing from memories of our father. When we’re in London, I shall purchase a diary from the stationer. Now I must tend to my duties.”

  The neglect of his guest bothered him.

  “The major took them to the village to show them all you’ve accomplished. They should be back any moment.” She fidgeted and fussed with the cuff of her sleeve. “I believe Josette is entranced with Major Anderson. It’s possible he likes her attention too.”

  Wolferton frowned. “Does this bother you?”

  “Not really. I never entertained the notion of any relationship. Josette is lively, young, and quite a magpie. On the other hand, I am quite the opposite—content, older, not a conversationalist, and probably unimportant.” She left the room, head held high and humming a tune.

  It was so unlike her, but the thought persisted in his mind that the country life suited Camille well. Another idea occurred to him that Halifax might haunt the village for the chance to speak with Jaclyn. Wolferton should have gone with them. Too late, but the matter of Halifax would come to an end soon. This he vowed.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The Happy Heart

  Jaclyn couldn’t be happier for the visit of her best friend. They had talked into the wee hours of the morning, about old times and new beginnings. When Josette tapped on her door, she shared the encounter with her mother and its result.

  After Josette left her room to finish dressing, Jaclyn opened her diary and started to write:

  I felt a moment of pity for my mother. Her beauty has faded, and her theater makeup only aged her. I’m eighteen so she’s about thirty-six, Radolf’s age. I can’t believe the word ‘Mother’ could not escape my lips when we met. Can you imagine, dear diary, I called her Madame? Josette says I’m still hurt because she stole precious years that we could have been together. I guess that’s true. Sweet Heaven, if not for Radolf, what would have happened to me?

  Josette came back in fifteen minutes. Jaclyn took her journal and placed it in the drawer.

  “I can understand how you have been estranged all these years from your mother. My mother died so there was no choice but to go on. My father, blessings upon him, devoted his life to me. He mourned the loss of Mama and did not take another woman as a wife. Now that I am a grown lady, I can see he craves companionship other than mine.”

  Josette arose from the settee upon which they sat and moved toward the glass-lined cabinets and fingered the outer edges. “At home, none of the contents have changed. They reflect my mother’s taste and fancy for beautiful Dresden china. My father and aunt have left it so. I can see now how generous they’ve been to me, but I want my father to be happy. Do you think he has a mistress to provide for his needs?”

  Jaclyn gasped at the word. “Would it upset you if he did?” She moved toward her friend and embraced her. They stood still for some time.

  Josette withdrew from her. “No, during my younger years it might have because I wanted to be the center of his attention. I can see now that he gave up much for me. I’ll be married one day, and he’ll be alone, only with memories. Secretly, I’ve searched for women who might make him a good wife.” She took her friend’s arm, and they walked around the room.

  “He still has the portrait of my mother in a place of honor in the drawing room. I like to look at it to see if I resemble her. Papa says I have her hair and eyes.” She paused. “I don’t resemble my mother, but she had a special sort of beauty.”

  They giggled.

  “Listen to us, as if we are older creatures of the world who know what is best for those around us. Let’s walk in the gardens. You were to show me the black roses.” Josette smiled. “Tell me again why they are so rare.”

  After Jaclyn explained, they found themselves near the conservatory and peered through the large vertical windows that formed walls and a ceiling. “Look to the right and you can see five large bushes.” She pointed to them. “They have a special glass enclosure which is temperature controlled. During the summer months, they turn a darker shade of deep red. Wolferton has plans for the horticulture on a larger basis.”

  They walked farther along the path toward a white trellised pavilion where they sat on a stone bench. “Tell me about Camille. Is she good to you?”

  “Six months ago, she took me under her wing. Camille did not have a good marriage, so she’s treated me like her daughter. I have no complaints other than I wish she would find happiness.” She plucked a white rose from the vine, inhaled the scent, and passed it to her friend.

  “I wonder if my father might like Camille. She’s delightful in a special way. Wouldn’t it be grand if they got together?” Josette now arose.

  “We are not matchmakers. Camille has indicated she’s no wish to marry again. In fact, she seems resolved about the matter. Radolf attempted to match her with the major, but that has not come to fruition.”

  Josette stopped her fuss with her scarf. “No, not the major. I rather like him.”

  “You’ve not told me that you held a fondness for him, though I suspected.”

  They left the pavilion and continued round near the labyrinth. “The major is almost twice your age, my friend.”

  “I have a fascination for older men. They are more sophisticated and know how to treat a lady. Most of the younger bucks want to fondle and kiss at the first chance. A man who takes his time and chooses the right occasion to express his feelings is more of interest to me.”

  Upon their arrival at the stables, the major came to greet them. “Good morning, ladies. May I be of assistance?” He addressed his comment to Josette, who visibly blushed.

  “Good morning, Major,” said Jaclyn. “My friend and I are enjoying the sunshine. Have you shown Josette our new colt?”

  “No, but if she’d like to see the boy and his mother, I’ll take her in.”

  “A colt just born? I’d love to see them both. Yes, please, Major.”

  Jaclyn stopped mid stride. “I see my maid, Sedona, coming toward us. Most likely she has a message for me.”

  Sedona arrived and handed a note to Jaclyn. She read it quickly. The note was from a purveyor of cloth, and unimportant so she pocketed it. “Do take the tour with the major. I’ll have Sedona chaperone you.”

  The two girls exchanged guarded glances. The major nodded and allowed Jaclyn to leave them.

  Pleased with her matchmaker manipulations, she headed to the manor. The route would take her past the conservatory. Perhaps Radolf would be there? Alone?

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The Villain Plots

  Alistair Halifax accepted a cigar from his host, Lord Brockton. He cut the tip and lit the tobacco then drew in a breath to ignite it fully.

  “Your lady friend has not seen fit to answer your correspondence and meet with you? Has the infamous rake been subdued by a slip of a girl?”

  “Jest all you wish, Brock. I swear her guardian protects her as if she were the Virgin Madonna. However, I do like a challenge. I took a ride to the estate and it is well guarded. Wolferton has hired guards to surround his property, but perhaps if I disguise myself as a merchant, I’ll be able to gain access. All I need is the ability to whisk her away.” He blew smoke rings into the air with ease.

  “Whisk her where? He’ll find you, and you’ll have hell to pay.”

  “Once she’s compromised, she’s damaged goods. All I need is twenty-four hours. Wolferton will beg me to marry her. Wait and see.” He arose and looked into the distance. The duke’s house was about four miles away, but the land between was not hospitable. The only road led to the manor house.

  Brockton circled fingers to
his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “The Village Council meeting is tomorrow at the chapel. Since he’s in town, he might be there. Don’t hold high hopes, he’s not been around for a long time.”

  Halifax snapped his head toward his host. “Why didn’t you say so before? It’s perfect. As a merchant, I’d be led to the servant’s entrance and would be able to gain access to the house.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  He gave a solid shrug. “I may need to create a diversion.”

  “What would you claim to purvey—love potions?” asked his host with a mocking smile.

  “No, illustrations of famous artists, and of course, books of romances.” Halifax salivated at the thought to demonstrate those romance novels to Jaclyn, the starry-eyed simpleton when it came to such things.

  “Where will you obtain such books?”

  “Your library. I will not offer them for sale but infer they can order them. The maid’s quarters will have romance novels I can borrow. Of that I’m sure.” He walked to his friend and clapped him on the back. “I’m off to change into more modest attire as befits a merchant.”

  Brockton shook his head. “I fear you may trade such attire for prison garb.”

  “Nonsense, I’m a lord of the realm, protected from such punitive actions.” He turned. “Perhaps in London it would be harder, but in Hertford, a country village, my peer status will excuse me.”

  About to depart the room, Brockton called, “Wolferton is the Village Magistrate when he’s in residence. This is not London.”

  “Nonsense, I know what I am about to do. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.” Halifax grinned and hid the malice he experienced within.

  “What do you mean? You’re a married man?” The shock on Brockton’s face was more than obvious.

  “Yes, it was in Italy. I married the daughter of a count. She was pretty, silly, and enthralled. But when I looked into her cow eyes, all I could see were Italian florins. Her father was extremely generous with her dowry.”

  “Where is your wife now?”

  “Dead.”

  Brockton arose from the chair and faced Halifax, his face in a grimace at the news.

  “We were on a sailboat on our honeymoon. The two of us. A harsh wind developed, and since I was not an experienced boater in that area, the sail jib came loose and knocked her off the deck. It was an accident. It swung back and grazed my head. I still have the scar. At the tribunal, the verdict was that it was an unfortunate accident. I left the country since her father swore a vendetta against me for my carelessness.”

  “So the money you claimed you inherited from an aunt was really from your late wife? Why lie about it?”

  “I didn’t lie. The inheritance from my aunt was a small one. Unfortunately, it was used to keep the collectors away. It was no one’s business but my own. Besides, I meet more women as a bachelor than a widower.” Halifax’s glance skewered Brockton. “No one knows about this, so if you repeat it, you may incur a tragic event yourself.”

  “Are you mad? Do you dare threaten me? I believe you should leave.” He stormed to the door. “The sooner, the better. I want no part of your theatrics.”

  Halifax followed. “Now Brock, you’ve misunderstood. It was an unfortunate circumstance. We celebrated our marriage with Italian champagne, and she took more than a few swallows. I did not imbibe as much since I tended the rudder. I dove into the water to save her, but with her heavy skirts, she went under and I couldn’t find her. I tell the honest truth.”

  I must convince him that I did not murder my wife. However, no one will know I drugged her drink and I did loosen the gib. Poor Carlotta was in no position to save herself. I waited a few minutes before I dove into the warm water.

  “I want your word of honor you plan no such accidents for Wolferton’s ward.” Brockton stopped and he turned to reenter the room.

  “I give you my solemn oath that I will not harm a hair on her lovely head. It’s no crime to marry for money. We English do it all the time.” He breathed a sigh.

  “I have no choice but to believe you. If true, I’m sorry for your loss. I just can’t see lying about it. It is not the action of an honorable gentleman.”

  Halifax chose not to answer. He’d already said too much.

  “Do not think Wolferton a fool. He’ll kill you before he lets you ruin her. You play with fire.” His tone cautioned. “Find some other woman who has money. Leave this one alone.”

  Halifax grinned. “This wouldn’t do. I want to see the expression on Wolferton’s face when he’s forced to admit I’ve bested him. I’ve waited a long time for this revenge.” He smiled with a scowl at the wondrous thought.

  “What in heaven’s name did he do to you?” asked Brockton.

  Halifax thought long and hard about this question. There wasn’t any one thing or event that caused his outright hatred. Perhaps it was envy that Wolferton had everything Halifax wanted: money, prestige, and trustworthy friends. Yes, Wolferton had a past, but he redeemed himself during the war and in his accomplishments since. Halifax’s experience involved the ability to take a half-truth and turn it into a full-blown lie. A prevarication often told soon enough became the truth. His sneer attested to his past success in this subterfuge.

  “Nothing personal except to flaunt his superiority at Eton. It was over some tart, but I’ve never forgotten. I’ll make his ward my special strumpet. Wait and see.” His laugh roared through the room.

  “I have the notion that I’ll have the opportunity to attend your funeral service.”

  “I doubt that, but if it comes to pass, be kind in your epithet. Now let’s conclude this conversation. By the way, when I marry Miss Moreux, will you attend as my best man?”

  He saw the hesitation on Brockton’s face and the seriousness to which he replied in a cold arctic tone. “No. Not in a million years.” He arose and went to his desk.

  “What are you doing?” Halifax scrunched his nose with a worried frown.

  “I’m about to compose your epithet.”

  Chapter Fifty

  The Interlude of Madness

  Wolferton was in the back of the conservatory at his desk concerned with the formulae for the black rose. His arborist made a small change to the water calculations. So absorbed, he did not know anyone had arrived until she called his name. Jaclyn stood watching. His blood warmed.

  He arose from the padded chair. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  “I am happy today and would like to share it with you. Let’s picnic up the hill and breathe the fresh air. Josette is off somewhere with Anderson. Monsieur Dupree is with Camille on the veranda, and from their laughter, I gather he is quite entranced with her. Everyone is coupled off except for you and me. Indulge me, if you please?”

  As she sashayed toward him, his heart skipped a beat or two. Her unusual black and white striped low-cut silk dress complemented her lithe, ample figure, and was not a style she normally favored. But the playful smile on her face convinced him she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “I ran into Halbert on the stroll here and asked him to arrange a basket and a blanket. I’d like to ride there with you to your favorite place.”

  Slanted eyes skewered her for but a moment. It was his private spot and held all memories of Isabella. Perhaps now was the time to banish those demons too. “No, I won’t take a chance on another fall. I couldn’t endure the torment.” He walked toward keeping his expression gentle. “But it is sweet of you to offer to conquer your fears about horses.”

  Wolferton couldn’t help but notice that Jaclyn wriggled her hips and spoke with a low, practiced, sultry voice.

  “Very well. Then we can ride there, and I’ll sit astride the horse in front of you. I’ll lean back close to make sure you don’t lose hold of me. It’s not a long journey.”

  “Why do I get the distinct notion that you are in a frisky mood this afternoon? What wiles has Josette been teaching you? You know I’ll have tight control of you and th
e horse.”

  She inched closer. “I have a decided need to feel special. Who better than you, Radolf?”

  Her coquettish salutation was dangerous.

  Of course! It came to mind that she and Josette had planned for he and Jaclyn to be alone in an intimate atmosphere. It was more than the romantic notion of schoolgirls. Something was different. The way her gaze journeyed from head to toe as if she were about to purchase fine horse flesh. Or in this case, a personal male slave to achieve her every desire. Such nonsense, he laughed. Why not play the game they had conjured? He needed a diversion, too from the duties of the estate.

  Wolferton moved closer. Within moments, she settled her arms around his neck and drew his face to hers, lips ever so close. He placed his hand on her face and held it, pulling her nearer with each breath he took. In a weak attempt, she tried to break free, but to no avail. Then she pressed her breasts against his chest. He immediately became aware of the heat of her through his waistcoat. She was a handful of a female in need of a man’s attention. Her moist lips peppered his cheeks with kisses, gentle at first, and then they demanded. His mouth responded in kind. When had the playfulness become a scorch that sent quivers through his body? The magnetism between them undeniable, he should stop, but a part of him refused to obey.

  She moved away a step.

  “No, you don’t. You seem to enjoy tormenting me. Mercy, Jaclyn. I am a man enthralled by you.” He pulled her back mischievously to his embrace and held her in his arms. “There could be consequences.”

  She laughingly mocked. “I see no such consequences.”

  “If you keep this up, in a moment you’ll feel them rock hard against you. Your dress is provocative, my dear. Did you wear it to taunt me?”

  “Yes,” she answered with a simple smile. “It belongs to Josette and she had a time lacing up the back strings. I’m a little fuller than she is in places.” She giggled. “I’m glad it pleases you. You are so immune to some of my efforts.”

 

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