Lady Vivian Defies a Duke (8 page)

She took her place on the bench. “Do I still have leave to use your Christian name?”

“Of course, Lady Vivian.” He bounded into the carriage as sure-footed as an acrobat, sank down beside her, and retrieved the reins.

“You may call me Vivian if you like.”

Luke nodded once then signaled the grays to return to the lane. As the carriage bumped over a rut, her attention turned to a possible hitch in her plan.

She had no idea how to go about courting a man.

Luke had discovered a number of pleasant ways to pass the time at Brighthurst House while awaiting his youngest brother and sister-in-law’s arrival. His family would be assuming chaperone duties for the coming journey to Irvine Castle since Vivian’s cousin hadn’t fully recovered from her illness.

Much of the past week had been spent in Vivian’s company, beginning with invigorating morning rides and ending with battles over the chessboard. Occasionally, she even beat him soundly. She was much more than her brother had promised, and Luke had begun to wonder if Ashden knew his sister at all.

This afternoon he had retreated to the small orchard with his valet, eager to test the accuracy of his newest acquisition, a Harper’s Ferry flintlock pistol. One of the best advantages to a holiday in the country was no one complained about noise when one fired a barking iron.

He nodded to Thomas to place the target then waited for his servant to move to safety.

After rotating the flint to full cock, Luke aimed and squeezed the trigger. The gun gave a satisfying flash and kick. He had dreamed of owning this particular firearm ever since he had seen an American officer carrying one three years ago. His friend, Daniel, had procured it during one of his trips to America and gave it to Luke as thanks for assisting his family in a matter.

The gun felt right in his hand. The aim was off by a fraction, though, and shot to the left of his target. He reloaded, compensated for the inaccuracy, and fired again. The rotting apple exploded.

“Solid shot, Your Grace,” Thomas said.

The sound of applause startled Luke, and he wheeled around to discover Vivian approaching with her maid. “Bravo, Your Grace. I was walking in the gardens when I heard a gunshot.”

How like the lady to be undeterred by shots fired.

He held out the pistol for her inspection. “It’s my pride and joy.”

Reaching out to brush her hand over the polished handle, her fingers made contact with his. The slow-burning fire that had been smoldering inside him for days sparked to life.

“How beautiful,” she said. “Ash has nothing as fine.”

That was untrue. Ashden had a sister of the finest quality, even if the man didn’t recognize her value. Finding another gentleman eager to marry her would be no challenge.

He cleared his thickened throat and moved away to reload. He couldn’t think on another gentleman enjoying her companionship, or he might do something stupid. “Would you like to fire it?”

“Me?”

“Place another apple,” he called to Thomas before returning his attention to the lady. “I believe early in our association you admitted to a talent for shooting. I will reload and you can give a demonstration.”

“I said I know
how
to shoot, not that I could hit an apple at ten paces.”

He winked. “Lucky for you the apple doesn’t shoot back then.” Half-cocking the flint, he retrieved a paper cartridge, bit off the end, and poured black powder into the priming pan. “Do you know how to load a firearm, too, or just how to discharge one?” he asked as he closed the frizzen.

“I have watched my brother reload many times, but he never allows me to handle the powder.” She leaned closer to observe his work.

Luke grinned and funneled the remaining powder into the barrel. “That will never do. A lady who wields a barking iron must learn how to arm herself properly. After you take the shot, I’ll show you how.” He pushed the lead ball and paper as far as it would go into the barrel, returned the ramrod to its home, and offered her the gun. “Before you fire, I wish to see your stance.”

She took the pistol and held it in both hands with arms outstretched and the appropriate amount of tension in her limbs. Good. She was experienced enough to be prepared when firing an unfamiliar weapon. He had no cause to worry about a bruised cheekbone or broken nose from the piece kicking back at her.

“Aim a bit to your right to hit your target.”

“It has no sight. How am I to aim?”

“I’ll show you.” He stood behind her to wrap his arms around her. She jumped, her bottom brushing against his groin. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, a pink flush climbing the back of her neck.

His blood ran hot and rushed to places that held a special fondness for her. He tightened his grip around her hands, sensing the tremor moving up her arm. “You must hold steady.”

“I’m trying,” she said on a wisp of breath.

He placed his head beside hers, tempted beyond reason to taste the delicate place behind her ear. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla and sugar. “Close one eye then look down the length of the barrel.”

His tumultuous breaths stirred tendrils of hair curling around her delicate ear. His lips parted as he contemplated gliding his mouth along her slender neck to coax a pleasurable sigh from her. He wanted to trace the hollow of her collarbone with his tongue then release the fastenings of her gown and peel away the muslin from her shoulders. His fingers longed to free her perfect breasts from the vicious corset holding her prisoner and caress her skin.

“Good luck!” Her maid’s shrill call brought him crashing back into the moment.

He shuffled back a step, creating space between him and Vivian. “Whenever you are ready, my lady. Squeeze gently.” His voice had grown husky.

Her finger hugged the trigger, and a flash of light and heat preceded the sharp crack. The top left half of the apple was obliterated.

“I did it!”

The servants cheered, and a wide grin split Thomas’s face. “Excellent shot, my lady.”

“Thank you.” She spun toward Luke, her eyes shining like jewels. “May I try again?”

“Only if you reload it. I’ll tell you what to do.” He captured her hand and led her to the supplies. She took the cartridge from him and sniffed it.

“Must I bite it?”

“If you are ever in danger, you must, but allow me.” He closed his hand around hers and brought the cartridge to his mouth, ripping the top with his teeth. Her lips parted on a soft gasp, and he couldn’t hold back a satisfied grin.

To realize he affected her as much as she did him gave him a jolt of shameful pleasure. He had no right to engage in a flirtation with the lady when she belonged to another gentleman, or would belong to another gentleman.

His mood sobered. “Now open the frizzen so you can pour a little in the pan.”

She followed his directions, her slender fingers sure and proficient. Once she had the firearm primed and loaded, she moved into position. Luke kept his distance this time, curious to see what she was capable of.

Her shot missed.

She turned to him with a frown. “May I try again?”

“As many times as you wish. Just wipe the flint with your thumb each time to keep it clean.” He hung back as she prepared to reload. This time she bit the cartridge with no hesitation.

Her next shot sent fragments of apple flying and earned an exhilarated yelp from the servants.

He lowered to the grass, enjoying the view as she hurried to reload the pistol again. She hit her targets three more times and likely would have continued target practice if a commotion on the front drive hadn’t deterred her. A carriage was pulling up to Brighthurst House.

That would be Drew and Lana.

Luke rose, dusted off his trousers, and went to collect his gun. “Shall we go greet the new arrivals?” He set the pistol on a stump and offered his arm. As they started toward the front drive, a high-pitched caterwaul rent the air followed by another.

A crease appeared between Vivian’s brows. “Good heavens. Was that a cat?”

“Worse. My brother has arrived with his ladies.”

“Ladies? How many ladies?” The quiver of her voice suggested her imagination might be less proper than one would expect of an innocent maiden.

“Just three.”

Specifically, Drew’s spirited wife and lively ginger-haired daughters. His mother referred to the little ones as twin handfuls.

“Only three? And they don’t mind?”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand affectionately. “There’s no cause for alarm. It’s only my brother’s wife and daughters.”

Her grip relaxed and she released a breathy laugh. “You tease me horribly, Your Grace.”

As they neared the drive, they encountered a flurry of activity. A footman was loosening the last of the trunks while another hoisted one on his shoulder and toted it inside.

His brother waved and reached back inside the carriage to assist his wife down the stairs. Lana emerged with tousled hair and a wrinkled travel gown.

Another scream blasted from the confines of the coach.

“Chloe, please,” she chided as she alighted with a painfully amused grin.

Vivian’s cousin floated from the house and waited by the entrance to greet Luke’s family. The lady appeared as fragile and pale as a ghost, but Vivian had assured him she was beginning to look more like her former self.

Luke slanted an appreciative gaze at Vivian on his arm. She possessed a healthy glow and didn’t look one missed meal away from starvation. She would be soft and full of life in the marital bed.

Another high-pitched squeal came from the carriage, shattering his improper musings, not to mention his eardrums. “Shall I make introductions, my lady, or should we run away while we still have a chance to escape?”

Before Vivian could answer, his sister-in-law spotted them and rushed forward with a wide smile. She ignored Luke and clasped hands with Vivian. “You must be Lady Vivian. How lovely to meet you. I’m Lana, and we are sure to be great friends.”

Vivian received Lana’s enthusiastic greeting with bright smile. “Welcome to Brighthurst, my lady. Will you allow me to introduce you to my cousin?”

“With pleasure.” The ladies walked away arm in arm, their heads drifting close together as Lana whispered something to Vivian.

Drew approached with his daughter, Chloe, squirming in his arms. She released a loud burst of frustration and he flinched. “Now, now.”

He sat her on his shoulder and her screams transformed from angry outbursts to screeches of glee. Her sister, Claire, appeared accustomed to her twin’s boisterousness and continued to sleep curled up into a ball against her nurse’s chest, a fistful of sunshine hair tangled in her chubby fingers.

A rush of affection flooded through Luke for his brother’s offspring. Some might consider it justice that his youngest brother, a former rake, was given not one but two girls to protect, but Drew had become a different man since he’d married. He appeared softer when he looked at his daughters with affection. He wasn’t so changed that it would be wise to cross him, however. Luke pitied any gent foolish enough to glance sideways at his nieces once they came of age.

“Your wife gave me the cut direct,” he said.

“I’ll take her to task later.”

“That is blasted unlikely.” Luke’s brother was uncommonly permissive with his wife, but Luke was only teasing. A lady with a mind of her own didn’t require guidance on how to use it.

He and Drew fell into step together as the ladies disappeared inside the house. “What is Lana about, whisking Lady Vivian away?”

Drew smirked. “What makes you think I know anything about what goes through her mind?”

“Perhaps because she speaks freely, and you have been enclosed in a carriage with her all day.”

“Who says we talked? It’s hard enough to think with darling Chloe monopolizing the conversation.” Drew’s grin widened as he settled his daughter back in his arms and kissed her forehead. “But there may have been talk between the Forest women last week about a grand wedding breakfast following your leg-shackling. Did you know Mother has commissioned a goldsmith to fashion your leg iron?”

“Very funny. You had best inform Lana to cease making any plans.”

Drew’s brows shot up. “Oh?”

They entered the darkened foyer, and Luke paused inside the threshold to allow his eyes to adjust. Of course his brother would have questions. Perhaps he could even assist with selecting an appropriate suitor for Vivian.

“I can explain everything once we have some privacy. I’m sure Lady Brighthurst would allow us the use of her parlor. Shall we?”

7 September 1818

Dear Sister,

I am pleased to learn you were able to bring Foxhaven up to scratch. Now if you can only control yourself until the deed is done. This Season proved to be a tedious affair. Lady Ashden is eager to be rid of Mrs. Honeywell’s companionship. Her ladyship missed several of the Season’s most popular balls when the stress of entertaining the woman drove her to bed with a headache. Yet, as it is unlikely Mrs. Honeywell will keep her own counsel without incentive, it was impossible to send her away early.

Vivi, if you fail in this endeavor, there is nothing more I can do to assist you. I am sorry. I wish you safe travels and regret I cannot be present to see you off.

Sincerely,

Ash

Luke’s family waited at the edge of the foyer while Vivi made her good-byes.

“I hate for you to travel alone.” Patrice spoke into her ear to be heard over the rambunctious screeching of the tiny girls. They reminded Vivi of eager puppies wriggling to break free from their parents’ arms.

“I fear I may never be alone on this journey,” she murmured in reply, but all in good fun.

Luke’s nieces provided ample entertainment. Their fervent exploration of anything breakable or deadly kept Lord Andrew on his toes. Vivi had grown quite accustomed to Luke’s brother launching from his chair, leaping obstacles if necessary, to snatch one of his girls back from the edge of disaster. Who knew babies were so nimble on hands and knees?

Patrice’s hug lacked its usual vigor.

Vivi held on to her and tried to force down the knot of apprehension forming in her throat. “I’ll miss you. Do you promise to rest and eat at mealtimes?”

Patrice patted her back. “You mustn’t worry about me. Just be happy. You’re to be a duchess soon.”

As part of her understanding with Luke, no one was to know of the agreement. Everyone was supposed to believe Vivi had tossed him over once it was all said and done. Were she not humoring him by pretending to participate in his scheme, guilt might compel her to be honest with her cousin. As it was, Vivi expected to be the Duchess of Foxhaven within the month, two at most.

Luke appeared in the threshold, his cheeks rosy from his morning stroll. “The carriages are ready. Have you had enough time with Lady Brighthurst to bid her farewell?”

Patrice squeezed her hand. “Go on, my dear.”

“I sent word to Vicar Ramsey requesting he look in on you while I am gone.”

Her cousin’s gaze darted to Luke, and his family gathered at the entrance. “Vivi,” she demurred. A blush climbed her neck.

Vivi smiled cheekily and sashayed toward the door. Now that Patrice no longer had to worry about her, a gentle nudge might be all her cousin needed to make a match.

Luke gave Vivi a secret wink and escorted her outside. He had just returned from carrying word to the vicar on her behalf.

Outside, her maid was waiting beside Lord Andrew’s carriage. Winnie, dressed in a dark-blue traveling gown that had once belonged to Vivi, giggled as they approached. This morning they had both admitted to being giddy at the prospect of attending a real house party.

Lord Andrew assisted the nurse with settling his daughters into his carriage while she and Lana—they had been on a first-name basis since the day the lady had arrived—prepared to climb into the ducal travel coach. Vivi accepted Luke’s help on the stairs and settled on the plush ivory seat. The gold coach lace at the windows swayed in the light breeze. With Lana seated beside her and the gentlemen situated at last, the carriage started with a small jerk.

Lana smiled at her. “I understand you’re seeking a husband among the gentlemen at Irvine Castle.”

“
Lana
,” Lord Andrew protested a second before he received an elbow in the ribs. “Ow! What the—”

Luke glowered at his brother. “I thought we spoke in confidence.”

“I thought you meant I shouldn’t say anything to Lady Vivian. I tell Lana everything.” He attempted a stern expression, but gazing at his wife seemed to have a strange effect on him. Lord Andrew broke into a dimpled grin that had probably shattered a thousand hearts. “You weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“Oh, dear.” The young woman touched Vivi’s arm. “You did know already, didn’t you? Luke didn’t mislead you about the journey, I hope.”

“Good Lord.” Luke dropped his head against his palm with a smack.

Vivi chuckled. It was refreshing to encounter a lady who practiced candor. “I am aware of His Grace’s plan and gave my consent. And please, don’t trouble yourself, any of you. I prefer having the situation in the open. There is less pressure on me to keep a secret.”

“Splendid.” Lana adjusted her skirts and folded her hands in her lap. “We must discuss strategy at once.”

“Strategy? This isn’t war,” Luke said.

Lana rolled her eyes in his direction. “Pay him no mind. He knows nothing about matchmaking. Had you known of his lack of expertise, I am certain you would have declined his offer. I, on the other hand, have a leg up when it comes to facilitating unions, and thereby offer my assistance.”

“You can’t argue with her record,” Lord Andrew said when Luke opened his mouth to protest. “Lana had a hand in several betrothals, all love matches.”

Luke scoffed and looked out the window.

“You may laugh, old man, but love matches do exist.” Lord Andrew winked at his wife, activating a radiant glow on her porcelain complexion. “Lana has created a list of prospective gentlemen attending the party. All upstanding gents.”

“Lady Vivian doesn’t require a list,” Luke grumbled. “I will assist her.”

Vivi absorbed the knowing looks exchanged between Luke’s brother and sister-in-law. They were up to mischief, and she couldn’t resist aligning with them. “Do you have the list with you, my lady?”

“Why, yes. I do.” She opened her reticule and extracted a folded piece of paper.

Luke crossed his arms and turned a bored look out the window. Not the reaction Vivi had hoped for.

“First, I must apologize,” Lana said. “I married the most acceptable of the lot, but there are a few unattached gentlemen who meet with my approval.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Lord Andrew said.

“Certainly.” Clearing her throat, Lana rattled the page for maximum drama. “There is the tenth Marquis of Corby.”

The muscles in Luke’s jaw shifted, but his gaze stayed frozen to the passing landscape.

“He is such a lovely man, Vivi. I’m certain you will like him. In addition, Lord Corby has a nice title and significant property holdings with a handsome yearly income.”

“He’s too short,” Luke said.

Lana peered over the list. “Too short?”

“Yes, he is two inches shorter than Lady Vivian.”

“I hardly think his stature should have any bearing on his suitability.” She turned to Vivi. “Would you be troubled by marrying a shorter man?”

“Only if I must gaze down on his bald pate.”

Lana nodded. “Rightly so. I hadn’t considered that viewpoint. Lord Corby has a full head of hair at the moment, but one never knows.”

Luke gestured to Vivi. “And if you wished to run in another three-legged race, your stride would be off.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Excellent point, Your Grace. Perhaps we should eliminate Lord Corby.”

Lana lowered the paper to her lap. “Then I am afraid Lord Mitcham must come off the list, too. Did I hear you and Luke took the first-place ribbon for the three-legged race at the church picnic?”

“We did.”

“I see. Then we require a gentleman of similar height to Foxhaven.”

Vivi ran her gaze from his head to his toes as if assessing him. “Indeed. His Grace is perfect.”

Luke smiled smugly.

She leaned over the paper to see it better. “Do you have someone of similar stature on the list?”

Luke sat up straight. “Let me see the blasted thing.”

Lana held it out to him, her thin brows arching upward.

He snatched the list from his sister-in-law and read it aloud. “Mr. Pickering. Lord Blackmont. Ellis?” His hand fell to his side. “Why is Anthony on the list?”

“What issue do you have with Ellis?” Lord Andrew asked.

“If you must know, his interests lie elsewhere, namely with our little sister.”

“Exactly. Just performing my brotherly responsibilities. Gabby despises him.”

“He’s a decent chap. And he is coming off the list.” Luke perused the rest of the names and flicked it back toward Lana. “None of these gentlemen will do. No more lists. I’ll assist Lady Vivian in her search.”

Lana huffed and shoved the paper back into her reticule, but Vivi’s heart danced in victory. There were at least ten names on the list. It seemed the Duke of Foxhaven wasn’t so eager to be rid of her after all.

***

Luke adjusted his position on the bench and brushed against Vivian’s calf.

Damnation.
No matter where he attempted to move his legs, she already seemed to be occupying the space. He had begun to suspect her of purposefully getting in his way.

He held rigid to keep from touching her again, because each contact sent a jagged current straight to his lower abdomen. He closed his eyes and attempted to think of anything other than touching her all over.

He was accustomed to riding in the saddle for hours at a time, not folded into a cramped carriage with a woman who aroused him merely with her proximity. The muscles in his lower back and thighs were knotted and on fire.

Gads
. He had to move again.

He checked the placement of her legs before stretching, but somehow he grazed her ankle anyway. He glowered in her direction, but she was staring out the window with a peaceful half smile.

“We just passed a mill,” she said. “The village cannot be much farther.”

He sighed with relief. This was their destination for the night. Traveling with young children made it necessary to stop at a decent hour, and Luke would not complain.

When the carriage entered the coaching yard of The Bull Inn, he scooted to the edge of the bench. He had to get out of there. He alighted without waiting for the stairs, then stretched.

Vivian was grinning at him from the doorway when he turned around. Perhaps the minx knew what she was doing after all. He offered a hand to assist her from the carriage.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The warmth of her smile enveloped him as she entwined her arm with his. His nerves buzzed like a hive of honeybees. Her action was possessive and presumptuous, but instead of wishing to extract himself, he pulled her closer.

The nurse and Vivian’s maid exited the other carriage with Chloe and Claire, and Lana and Drew went to collect them.

“Wouldn’t a stroll be lovely?” Vivian said. “I haven’t sat that long for ages.”

Lana held her arms out for Chloe and nuzzled her plump cheek when her daughter went to her. “
I
want nothing more than a warm bath before dinner.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Drew hurried ahead and disappeared inside the inn.

Lana’s gaze darted between the inn and Vivian, resting on the inn longer. “You will need an escort if you go for a stroll.”

“There is no need to alter your plans.” Vivian nodded to her maid. “Winnie will accompany me.”

Luke missed her warmth the moment she released his arm. “It’s unsafe to wander the village without a male escort,” he said.

“I see.” She nibbled her bottom lip, hands on her slender hips. Her silver-blue eyes flashed with a stroke of brilliance. “Perhaps one of your footmen would lend his assistance.”

John halted in the middle of loosening a strap and gazed at Vivian with calf-eyes.

Luke shook his head. The servant snapped his attention back to his task with a dark frown.

“My men are occupied with their duties. Perhaps you will accept my escort instead.”

Lana tossed an overly bright smile at them. She was plotting something. He could see the mischief in her eyes. “What a splendid solution. Now I may rest without worry.”

She wandered toward the inn with the nurse and her girls, leaving him alone with Vivian and her maid.

“Shall we?” Vivian took his arm. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and her smooth cheeks plumped when she smiled up at him.

He tried to dismiss the skip of his heart as a result of too much inactivity. He was a man of action, not given to lazing about for the better part of a day. His body needed activity. When Vivian’s breast brushed against his arm, the type of activity his body desired became apparent. Perhaps he should have enlisted the footman’s services after all, but since it was too late to bow out, he led her from the coaching yard. Vivian’s maid trailed behind them but paused to allow a new arrival into the yard.

Luke stifled a groan when he spotted the crest. The carriage door flew open, and Viscount Brookhaven spilled out in a disheveled tumble of satin. A chorus of high-pitched cackles echoed inside the conveyance.

“Brookhaven, where’s the bloody fire?” Jonathan Collier appeared in the doorway, weaved, and barely grabbed the door frame before he dove headfirst on top of the viscount. Even foxed, Collier’s ability to sniff out a beauty functioned with maddening accuracy. His gaze landed on Vivian and a grin spread across his cherubic face.

Luke drew her closer to his side.

A frizz of brown hair ducked under Collier’s arm. Another head-shattering cackle burst from the owner’s crimson lips. “Foxhaven! Yoo-hoo!” Her lily-white arm shot into the air and flailed. It was the only lily-white attribute the woman possessed. “We are traveling to Irvine Castle. Is that not a happy coincidence?”

“Mrs. Price.” Luke nodded out of politeness as he directed Vivian away from the scoundrels and their entertainment for their journey.

“Pay a call later, Your Grace, if you would care for a treat.”

He would be paying a call indeed, to Brookhaven to clear up the mistaken belief that an invitation to his mother’s house party extended to trollops and ne’er-do-wells like Collier.

Vivian’s maid rounded the carriage, gaping.

“Come along, Winifred,” he said.

The girl scurried around Brookhaven, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and made a huge arc to escape his grasping reach.

“Help me up, wench.”

She quickened her step to catch up to her mistress.

Neither Luke nor Vivian spoke as they strolled along the pathway. Honeysuckle dripped over a meandering stone wall, and narrow strips of grass nestled up to the thatch-roofed cottages.

Vivian stared up at him with her direct blue gaze. “You failed to introduce me to your friends.”

“Lord Brookhaven and his guests are old acquaintances. I don’t classify them as friends.”

“It appears Mrs. Price would like to become reacquainted, Your Grace. You may return to speak with her if you wish.”

Her formality in addressing him rankled. A few days ago his name had rolled from her tongue as sweetly as if she had crooned it. Perhaps more galling was her lack of concern over who received his attentions.