Duke Herheart Final (28 page)

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Authors: Olivia Ritch

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“Oh? How so?” Kathryn had noticed a few looks and wondered that men were so forward with women who were clearly with another man.

She was thoroughly curious about Michael’s answer.

“You two are by far the most exciting creatures out this morning and, because no one has yet been introduced, they are all wondering where you came from and how to get an introduction. I am not inclined to give them one.”

Cassandra chuckled warmly. “Brother, are you jealous that gentlemen are looking at your lovely escort?”

“Yes, I am not too proud to admit that I find it most disconcerting but I knew I would. We have all been rusticating in the country so long most likely because I had been hoping to avoid just such.”

“A wonderfully mature admission from you, Michael. I think your association with Kathryn has made you quite pleasant.”

“That is not a word I would have ever associated with me but yes, I 168

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guess I feel rather pleasant, and ever so slightly disconcerted.”

“Kathryn, we should have told you much more of London society before bringing you here. You will note that gentlemen are very open with their amorous intentions and some will have no qualms about approaching a lady even if she appears to be claimed. It is entirely acceptable for married ladies to have affairs with married men.”

“However, although we are not married, I have no intention that you will fall prey to anyone’s advances,” Michael warned.

“Michael is absolutely right about married ladies and it applies to widows to but the rules are entirely different for unmarried ladies.

Reputation is paramount and it is not acceptable to remain in any gentleman’s company for any period of time or to dance more than once with him at a…”

“Cassandra, we do not need to frighten her with the archaic nature of the
ton’s
views on unmarried ladies.” The hint of steel in his voice caused her to look at him and what she saw brought her lips to a curve.

She realized her brother had no intention of leaving Kathryn’s side and society be damned. “Kathryn will not be abandoned to the throng, dear.”

“I daresay!”

* * * *

Harold had been watching their progress and noting the men who had ogled, eyed, gaped, and goggled at the faux Duchess. If they only knew she was nothing but an American commoner who dressed scandalously and had been ruined by his priggish cousin, they would not be looking at her so adoringly. What did those men, any man, see in her?

She was clearly too small, without the sweet luscious plump curves for grabbing and holding onto. She was not pale enough or conventional looking. She wore bright colors and gowns with longer sleeves and less revealing bosom that the current styles. And her hair? How could anyone possibly have more variety in tone in their hair? It was as if the sun had streaked it and when it was curled around her head, it made maddening swirls.

Well faux Duchess….
Harold thought,
what I have planned for you
will wipe all that smugness from your face. Although I might just try a
taste of you first, see what it is my uppity cousin finds so irresistible.

Harold faded into the shadows while his henchman eyed the beauty lasciviously while thinking that it would be a pleasure to capture that delicious morsel.

* * * *

If she could have been more nervous, Kathryn could not imagine it.

Ellie had been working feverishly on her hair but even her usually 169

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competent hands were shaking. “His Majesty, miss. I can’t fathom it.

You’ll be…in...oh my…I am so sorry. I just can’t seem to keep the tongs moving and hold this all tight. I am afraid I might burn you.”

“Ellie, let’s try for something simple. Is it possible for me to wear it down?”

“No! Oh miss, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have exclaimed at you, it’s just…”

Kathryn reached for Ellie’s hands and the woman visibly relaxed.

“Let’s just pin this top section up and let the rest hang down my back. I am who I am and these big up-dos aren’t me. I do think we could put that strand of beads woven through the topknot though. What do you think?”

“That’s just the thing, miss. I’ll take them,” she answered, and slipped the beads from Kathryn’s hand and began weaving them through Kathryn’s hair creating the lovely illusion of a small wreath. Kathryn was reminded that Michael had called her Ceres, Roman goddess of the earth, mentioning all she needed was a crown fashioned from grain stalks. Well, he would be getting his wish. She did feel rather like a goddess.

The woman descending the stairs toward him was going to cause a scene the likes no one had ever seen. Her shining golden tresses were long and flowing around her shoulders, the curls on top woven with a crown of beads and the dress fashioned more like a Roman drape than a gown was not really short of scandalous. His temples throbbed, jaw ground and his hands burned. They burned with an intensity to claim her, haul her back upstairs and lock himself away with her. No one that saw her would be able to resist.

At that moment, his musings coalesced into one horrified thought; what if she did not choose him?

“You look upset Michael, is something wrong?” She patted her coiffure and the beatific smile faded.

“No, Kathryn, I am sorry to have looked so perplexed. Forgive me. I was thinking about having to beat others off with my swordstick. It might not be the done thing although I do believe there might have been a duel once before in the Lords.”

“I would really like to see you with a sword. Do you fence or is it that fight for your life heavy sword version that you prefer?”

“I have had to fight for my life and I expect today it will be as close-a run as some of those with Boney. You, my dear, will cause a riot.” He lifted her hand and turned her palm into his lips with a scorching gaze that burned all the way to her inner core.

“I am taking that as a compliment. Are you okay with my hair? We 170

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couldn’t get it up.” She fussed to relieve the impressive tension.

I’ve got it up all right and at the moment am using the banister to
keep from showing you,
he thought ruefully. It was going to be a very long day. “It’s lovely, Kathryn. I will be very proud to have you on my arm.”

“That was incredibly sweet.”

“No one has ever called me sweet.”

“Consider it done now. Your reputation is very ruined then because you
are
sweet.”

As Michael handed first Cassandra and then Kathryn into the carriage, he thought over his life these last twenty days and felt a profound sense of gratitude for what he had gained and come more to fully realize as a series of unbelievable blessings. He had never been meant to be the Duke but his service to the King, leading men had taught him well. He had Cassandra back in his life and he had a woman whose smile made him quiver with desire and her mind challenged every one of his long held notions about the relationships of men and women. He was going to need all of this good feeling to carry him through this day.

* * * *

Parliament. The Palace of Westminster, all those Dukes and swords and Prinny himself. The pomp and Michael so regal marching with the other Dukes had taken her breath away, so foreign and beautiful and so totally not of her world. The weight of it crashed in on her as she watched him process from the ceremony and she sat with Cassandra very far away from him. She realized at that moment she could not marry him.

In a box not far away from Kathryn, royal speculation was rampant.

“So he’s finally come to town
now
has he?”

“Yes, Majesty. Seems there was some trouble with a girl staying with his sister. An accident. Or maybe it was many accidents?”

“Friends of sisters don’t usually persuade Dukes to delay their ceremonies. This must be some girl.”

“If the rumors in the Lords are correct she is an ‘exotically bronzed Colonial.’ She is, I believe, not far away from us. The strawberry blond.”

“Exotically bronzed and strawberry blond. From that description and what I can see, she sounds like someone I would like to meet,” the Prince Regent mused deliciously.

“While I am in full agreement with you, it appears she is already spoken for.”

“Yes, I do believe you are right, Foxworthy. She must be quite something. Isn’t the sister the one that tried to kill herself or her father-171

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in-law or someone?”

“Yes, she was thought to be quite insane but it is said that the Colonial has great sway with her and she is much healed. Rumor is the sister is now affianced to her footman!”

“This story just keeps getting more fun.”

“If the rumors are true.”

“Yes. And Foxworthy, she would no doubt correct you and say she is an ‘American’, not a ‘Colonial’.”

“Quite right, Majesty, quite right.”

* * * *

It was not that she wasn’t good enough for him or incapable of learning how to move in these circles but simply that she did not belong here. This was not her place, her time and while she loved his family madly, they were not her family. He still had not truly believed her for all of his conforming to her modern ways and funning with her and becoming more relaxed and flexible, that she was someone totally different from what he thought. She worked, supported herself, tended a few plants, managed her small retirement account, read the paper, ran road races, occasionally dated a man, cooked sometimes, and made a life with her sister. That’s who she was, not this girlfriend of a rich English Duke being feted in the most regal of ceremonies.

And, he couldn’t really fathom where she had been. What would he make of her driving a car, her car of all things – a red Acura! He would probably approve of her private passion for romance novels but not tanning beds. Mercy, what would he say if he knew she had stripped naked in a box and let it bake her bronze? He just would have no concept. She had to go home and this time, he had to agree. It was really for the best. For him, and for her.

All of this made perfect sense in her head; it still didn’t sit well in her heart.

“Lady Penthoven?”

“Lord Marbury, how do you do?” Cassandra replied simply without that warmth in her voice that was so much a part of her when she talked to the family. So this was how it went, Kathryn could read Cassandra’s movements, her voice, inflection. This was not someone Cassandra liked.

“I am well thank you but you, you are also well?”

Kathryn thought he might have had a mocking tone but his face was unreadable.

“I am well. I was not ever unwell, my lord.”

“Ah, you have a companion with you today.” He bestowed a not 172

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successfully hidden feral grin on Kathryn that made her decidedly queasy.

“May I present Miss Kathryn Ragland, my dear friend? This is Lord Marbury.”

“Miss Ragland.” He bowed over her hand and she curtsied in just the way Cassandra had taught her for anyone she was to call “My Lord.”

“It is a distinct pleasure to meet you.” The queasiness grew to outright revulsion as he stroked his fingers over her knuckles. Kathryn sincerely hoped Cassandra knew just how to extricate her because if this man touched her for one second longer, she was going to cause him a very big problem and cause Michael a scene of her making that he would not at all like.

“Miss Ragland.” The words were firm and foreboding when Michael spoke from just over her shoulder. She knew he had seen the intent in the creepy man’s eyes and the jerk immediately released her hand and took a step back. “Marbury.” Yes, it was cold, very cold. She couldn’t wait to ask Cassandra later what the real story was.

“I must admire your good taste in escorts, your grace. These lovely ladies seem to be quite the rage.”

It was then that Kathryn realized a line had been forming around them or maybe a circle but quite a few of the overly dressed men were pressing closer to them, seemingly waiting for the very same rather too close greeting Lord Marbury had availed himself of. Michael’s twitching jaw alerted her to his thoughts that he would prefer to escort them out and to the carriage without another single introduction and ensconce them in Asterleigh House at once.

She could read him so well at that moment her heart fairly broke. He cared so deeply for her, her leaving would be devastating to him. He was a man of order, reason and precision and his life would be bereft without her to loosen him up. “Miss Ragland, are you alright? You look perplexed.”

“I think I’m a little overwhelmed. I know it’s not okay yet, but can you give me an idea of how much longer we have to stay?”

“Not one more minute my dear, grasp your head and wince. We will use your headache as a wonderful excuse to be released from this crush,”

and Michael was true to his word to whisk them from the crushing throng.

The fresh air and the carriage ride did little to help. Kathryn needed to get away, to think, to figure out how to tell him she was leaving, having decided that she was going to buy passage on a boat to America and at least get that much closer to reuniting with Christine. Her own 173

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headache had become real and sensing her distress, Michael released her to slip up to her room.

Cassandra watched as she took the stairs. “She looks unwell.”

“Yes, it’s not like her but then we have never forced her into such a crowd. Cassandra, did you see how they looked at her?”

“I did and I was most distressed. When you are married, I can’t bear the thought of how many of them will make their way to the house hoping to sneak in behind you,” she despaired.

“I will never, never let that happen but it makes me so tired to think about how hard it will be on her. She expects people to be decent and the rakes are decidedly not. Did you see her practically wilt? I am asking so much of her.” Michael stared absently at the spot where Kathryn had stood

“She is so strong Michael, she can manage. We probably should have prepared her better for that, however. We will limit how much we make her do on this visit. Maybe after you are married…”

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