Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) (3 page)

Felicity studied him with measured wariness. “I’ve been trying to find out for the past week, Jason, if there is any way to get a message to my brother,” she said, a flicker of annoyance passing behind her eyes. “Did you not get my letters asking as much?”

“Letters?” He turned to his secretary, instantly simulating fury. “Richardson, why was I not informed of this?”

Actually, his staff
had
politely murmured something last night about a pile of mail waiting for him on his desk, but after a week’s absence, that was to be expected for a man of his consequence.

Jason had been in no mood to deal with it upon walking in the door after two days on the road, penned up in his coach. He had figured he would simply go through each item in the morning.

But it seemed he and Felicity were suffering once again from their age-old case of bad timing.

Richardson stammered, well aware it was his job to take the blame from time to time for things that weren’t necessarily his fault. “My humblest apologies, Your Grace. I-I was waiting until you returned from the country to bring the letters to your attention.”

“Oh—” Felicity said abruptly. “I did not realize you were away.” She furrowed her brow, looking slightly chastened after her obvious annoyance at him.

“Yes, well, apparently we had a fire at Netherford Hall,” Jason explained. “A few of the peasant cottages and outbuildings burned down. But that is no excuse! Now, look here,” he scolded his man of affairs, with great effect. “Miss Carvel is one of my oldest and dearest friends—”

“I am?” she muttered under her breath.

“Not to mention the sister of the man leading the expedition I am sponsoring! When someone this important has a message for me, Richardson, I expect to be informed of it at once, do you understand?” he fairly bellowed, then turned to her. “Shall I sack him for you?”

“What? No, no! It’s all right,” she hastily assured both him and his sweating secretary. “All I wanted was to ask you if it’s possible to send a message to Peter, wherever he is, then I’ll be on my way. Please, there’s no need to go sacking anybody, I implore you.”

“Very well, if you’re sure.”

“Was anyone from the castle hurt?” she ventured, since, after all, she had grown up on the smaller estate adjoining his parklands.

“No, thankfully. A few sheep got their wool singed, is all, and several cottages will need to be rebuilt. Other than that, the people were mostly scared, and I felt it best for me to put in an appearance there. But I’m back now, and it’s all sorted. So, ah, what is the message you wanted to send to Pete? The news of your aunt’s passing, I presume?”

Her smoky gaze locked on to his uncertainly; he read her general wariness of him there, and it pained him. “Actually,” she said, “there’s a little more to it than that.”

But she made no move to explain, and Jason’s heart sank at her reluctance to share her worries with him. Of course, they were no longer as close as they had once been. He was not privy to her personal affairs anymore—and that, by his own choice.

He looked away with a judicious nod.
So be it.
“Well, I have good news for you,” he managed, glossing over her reticence. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but—under the circumstances—I think you’ll be happy to hear your brother is on his way home even as we speak.”

“He is?” she cried, drawing in her breath.

Jason smiled wryly, pleased by her delight. “Their ship left India three weeks ago. Hard to reach him right now since he’s at sea, but he’ll be back before the Season’s over.”

She lifted her fingers to her lips. “Oh, that is wonderful news! I am so relieved! Thank you.”

He nodded, slightly tongue-tied at this reminder of her unhesitating ability to love those she let into her heart.

It killed him to know he could’ve had that, once.

“Ahem, I’m sure when, er, your brother arrives, having family close will comfort you…in your loss,” he finished lamely, cringing within. God, everything he said was sounding so stupid in his own ears.

Yet most ladies considered him wickedly smooth.

“It’s not that,” Felicity confessed with a rueful smile. “Not the grieving, I mean. I’m feeling better, actually. It’s only been a fortnight, but a little time has helped, and after all, Aunt Kirby was very old. It was a shock but not a surprise, if that makes sense.”

He nodded encouragingly, then she considered and told him more.

“Things have grown a bit complicated, is all, and I expect they’ll soon get even more so.” She shrugged. “I could really use my big brother’s guidance on certain matters. You know how he is—always ready to take charge. I fear I’m a little out of my depth ever since we had the reading of the will last week.”

“Oh?”
So that was it.
“Is there some problem sorting out Her Ladyship’s affairs? Because if there’s anything I can do… Well, I take it you have to find a new place to live now, for starters?”

Jason knew that, with her parents dead and her brother off first at university and then at the war, Felicity had gone to live with her great-aunt in Mayfair, along with the widowed Mrs. Brown. Both had served as companions and caretakers to the feisty old dragon, kept her amused, and helped look after her.

But Felicity was shaking her head at his question. “No, everything seems to be in order with the will, nor do I have to move out, for Her Ladyship left me her house. That’s just it, Jason.” She hesitated. “Aunt Kirby left me
everything
.”

“Everything?” he echoed in surprise.

“Nearly.” Felicity glanced at her chaperone. “Mrs. Brown got a portion of the Kirby fortune, too, since they were friends forever, but the lion’s share went to me.”

He furrowed his brow and stared at her. “Felicity, wasn’t your aunt once married to some fabulously wealthy nabob?”

“
Yes
, Jason. Yes, she was!” She nodded emphatically. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

“Ha!” As understanding flooded in, Jason suddenly laughed aloud. “Felicity, you’re rich!”

“Very,” she admitted with a wide-eyed nod.

He clapped her roguishly on the shoulder, and Mrs. Brown’s disapproving scowl deepened. “Well done, Felicity Joy.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “It’s not well done at all! This is a disaster!”

“What are you talking about?” he teased. “You just stumbled into a huge inheritance—”

“Yes!” she burst out. “And it’s ruining my life!”

CHAPTER 2

The Rogue at Home

“A
h, so you mean to give the money up, then?” he shot back with a knowing wink.

“Well, I didn’t say
that
,” Felicity amended, her heart in her throat as her former idol laughed merrily, flashing straight white teeth.

“Good! I was worried for your sanity for a moment there,” he drawled. “So, what’s the problem, then?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to keep the news as quiet as possible, because I know it’s going to lead to chaos. But, in fact, it’s already started. My cousin Charles must’ve let it slip, for he was at the reading of the will, as was Cousin Gerald.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of that rude bulldog. “That’s why I’m glad to hear Peter’s coming home soon. He’s better at dealing with this sort of thing.”

Jason smiled at her. “I want you to know I’ll be happy to help you however I can. Er, until your brother comes back, of course,” he added rather awkwardly.

She stared at him. “Really?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Just tell me what you need.”

Felicity stood tongue-tied. In truth, she could not help but feel a trifle breathless at his interest in her crisis and his supposed willingness to help. After the studied distance he had put between them for so long, his friendly demeanor this morning was as perplexing as it was delightful. Obviously, he was too rich for it to be about the money. His fortune was still far larger than hers.

To be sure, she had not expected this reaction from him, let alone the welcome revelation that he had a perfectly good excuse for failing to respond to her letters.

All she knew was that, somehow, being with him again was as magical as ever—even though she could tell he’d been up to no good last night.

That much was altogether plain.

Fool that she was, though, his wicked ways didn’t matter anymore from the moment he had smiled at her, breezing down the grand staircase on his big bare feet.

Seeing them reminded her of lazy summer childhood days when they had gone wading in the brook between their family estates. Indeed, there were parts of Jason on display right now that she hadn’t seen in years.

She could feel the scandalized horror pulsating off Mrs. Brown at his lack of all decorum, to say nothing of his absent shoes and cravat. But for her part, Felicity merely peeked at the curve of his neck, the jut of his Adam’s apple, and the little notch at the base of his throat between his collarbones. She stifled a sigh. He was indeed a beautiful man, though in need of a shave. Yet the slight shadow darkening his jaw merely added to his appeal in its overt masculinity.

In spite of herself, she let her gaze drink him in with greedy fascination, devouring the lean, muscled length of him in his rumpled formalwear.

She still found it curious that she had to tilt her head back to meet his night-dark eyes, considering they had once been somewhat closer to eye level. But he’d grown into his stature like a tree, becoming stunningly handsome and imposingly muscled.

He towered above her at maybe six foot three, and his broad chest tapered down to a lean waist and hips. His wide shoulders still were not entirely even, the right slightly higher than the left because of that broken collarbone when he was eleven. She had been there, had seen him fall, had even heard the crunch.

Jason had been lucky he had only broken his clavicle and not his head. She had kicked her brother for challenging him to climb the old oak, for Peter knew full well that the neighbor boy could not resist a dare.

Sure enough, one branch had proved weaker than it had looked, and down the future duke went.

Papa had tanned Peter’s hide for his role in that mishap, but, of course, Jason never got in trouble for anything.

Sometimes Felicity wondered how different his life might have turned out if his parents had bothered disciplining their son every now and then, or if his army of caretakers had ever risked raising their voices to His Little Lordship. Unfortunately, keeping their posts had been more important to the servants than the boy himself. The Carvel children had gaped at how the duke’s heir told adults around him what to do—and how they usually obeyed!

The only one who had ever really laid down the law with Jason was her brother. One good punch in the face at the boys’ first meeting and the two had become fast friends.
Peter
he respected, especially after he had killed a few of the enemy in the war.

She knew Jason had been bitter when her brother got to go off and fight Napoleon while he’d been forced to stay home, his father lingering at death’s door. He had to be ready to take up the dukedom, and for that, it was his duty to remain unscathed.

Thinking back on it, it seemed like that had been the start of his descent into the debauchery he had pursued ever since he’d come into his title. As though he had nothing better to do and deeply resented it.

“Please,” he was saying in a surprisingly serious tone. “Let me be of service to you in this. We’ve known each other for a very long time, and I’m quite familiar with the pitfalls you’re about to face. Believe me, I’m used to being rich and all the bull—” He stopped himself. “Responsibility that goes along with it,” he amended.

“Ah, yes, you’re quite the expert on responsibility,” she murmured with a smile, trying not to leap at his offer of help and support. “I can see that.”

“When I make the effort!” he retorted, tweaking her nose.

She smacked his hand away, laughing. “That will do, Your Grace! I’m not nine years old anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” he said softly. His subtle glance down the length of her body sent a thrill of pleasure through her every nerve ending.

Felicity fought off a swoon.

Jason looked away abruptly, silent for a moment. “Right, then. So I shall call on you later, Miss Carvel, and make sure everything’s in order with your aunt’s affairs.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly impose—”

“It’s no imposition! Please, your brother would never forgive me if I failed to look after you in this. He’d want me to check in on you in his absence and make sure no blasted lawyers and such are taking advantage of you in your…inexperience.” A shadow flitted across his face, as though the word pained him somehow.

“Oh, lawyers?” she echoed with a frown. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Ruefully lifting his gaze from the floor, he smiled at her then with such protective, knowing tenderness, she could have fainted on the spot.

Truly, he was the most confusing man. He had barely said a dozen words to her for the past year, but now that she’d caught him in the privacy of his own home, here he stood, gazing at her like she was still dear to him.

But although she was bewildered, Felicity could not bring herself to believe he was merely toying with her emotions.

Not even he would sink that low. Not with her.

No, this show of kindness was merely down to his loyalty to her brother. She searched his chiseled face uncertainly, but all she could see was how weary he looked down to his very soul.

At the same time, his striking good looks made her wistful. Self-destructive maniac or no, he was comely.

His short, sable hair was damp, slicked back from his square, strong face. He had thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, a straight Roman nose, and a lovely chiseled jawline she had often dreamed of tracing with her lips.

Gazing into his melancholy, chocolate-brown eyes for that brief moment made her long to cup his cheek in her hand and tell him how much she missed him.