Say Yes to the Duke (7 page)

“Of course not.”
But I
want
you.

She couldn’t tell him so, of course.

His gaze seared into her. Her pulse quickened at his nearness. She remembered the
feel of his hard chest, the demanding pliancy of his lips.

One side of his mouth lifted. “I still know what you’re thinking.” His voice was extra
low now, and her belly did a little flip-flop of pleasure. “But the duke’s looking
for you.”

He took a step back, and she felt the vastness of the space separating them.

Remember, he’s a groom. You’re a lady. And ne’er the twain shall meet.

She pressed down her coat. “I’ll leave, sir, but if you have any concerns at all about
Esmeralda and the puppies—or if there are any surprising developments—I expect to
be alerted. If it’s too late to send a note, put a lantern in that large arched window
facing the house.”

She wouldn’t even say
please.
It was meant to be an order. It was all she had, really, to defend herself against
him.

He knew full well, too. “Very well, my lady,” he murmured, his eyes lingering too
long on her to be considered proper.

She whirled around and strode down the row, her back ramrod straight, her curls jouncing.
The tips of her ears felt hot, and her fingers curled stiffly.

Why couldn’t she be cool around him?

He knew he’d gotten to her.

Again.

“Lady Janice!” he called after her.

She stopped walking but didn’t look over her shoulder. “Yes?”

She heard his boots move across the stone floor, coming closer. With every step he
took, her belly clenched tighter. When he was at her back, she felt him lift that
loose tendril of hair off her shoulder.

Was he weighing it in his hand? She wouldn’t turn to see.

“I told you that the puppies would serve to temporarily distract me from the ultimate
pleasure of getting you alone,” he said. “But you mustn’t listen when I say such things,
no matter how convincing I am.”

“Of course I don’t.” Her palms were wet when she clenched her fists. “Aren’t you satisfied
that you’ve won over all those other women? Why do you taunt
me
with such nonsense?”

“Good.” He dropped the curl. “Keep fighting back,” he said in her ear. “Don’t give
me an inch, because I’ll take it.” He ran a finger down the side of her face. “I’ll
take more than an inch, my lady. I’ll take it all.”

All? What did he mean by that?

Her heart pounded in her ears. She gulped and took a step forward, away from him.
“I really must be going.” Her voice sounded pinched, she knew.

“You do that,” he said.

And without another word, she stalked away from him, feeling decidedly unnerved.

Chapter Six

With a footman in tow, Janice returned to the house furious at herself. It appeared
that kissing a groom and wanting to do it again because he’d saved a darling puppy
was a more complicated scenario than she’d ever imagined. There was nothing easy about
the charming Luke Callahan. He posed a threat that she wasn’t sure she understood.

Think about the pups!

She tried; she really did. But instead of focusing on images of tiny wet noses and
scrabbling paws, her mind slid to recollections of Luke Callahan’s chiseled mouth,
his strong back, and the way he lowered himself in the straw on muscular haunches
to cradle a limp puppy in his hands.

Janice actually smiled to herself thinking of how he’d appeared when the near-dead
puppy stirred. Mr. Callahan had been shocked and pleased—and there was a brief moment
when tenderness appeared around his eyes, in the curve of his lips.

It had done something to Janice’s heart, that look. She’d felt an ache like nothing
she’d ever known, a desire to touch that tenderness—

To touch him.

He’d charmed her thoroughly. But in the end, he’d made it clear that he wasn’t to
be trusted. And yet … she couldn’t help being drawn to him, even so.

Perhaps it was his honesty—she’d take an honest scoundrel over a sly one any day,
she supposed.

But what did that say about
her,
that she was attracted to a rogue of the worst sort, a self-confessed one who teased
her one minute and pushed her away the next?

When she entered Halsey House, she was still seething as the butler took her coat
and bonnet. The hounds sniffed her up and down. They smelled dog. And hay.

The butler shooed them away. “Everyone’s gone off to the billiard room,” he informed
her quietly.

“I think I’ll seek out the duchess, then.” Janice had yet to freshen up, but it was
time to visit Her Grace—the sooner the better. She’d most certainly take Janice’s
mind off what had happened in the stables.

“Your chaperone, Mrs. Friday, is putting away her things,” the butler said. “She’ll
be down for dinner.”

“Oh. Very good.” The news was a boost to Janice’s spirits. Mrs. Friday’s presence
would make everything easier.

A maid led Janice up the enormous staircase, down two long corridors upstairs and
around several corners, and finally across a balcony running the length of the ballroom.
“Almost there, my lady.”

“Goodness, the duchess appears far removed from the rest of the household,” Janice
said, and surreptitiously smoothed down her skirt. She didn’t know why she should
feel so nervous. She knew eccentric people. London abounded with them. This woman
couldn’t be any more eccentric than they.

“In her own wing, she is,” said the maid.

“Why is that?”

“The duke said it’s for her own protection. He thinks the quiet is good for her.”

Was quiet beneficial for a person who didn’t live in her own mind? Shouldn’t there
be distractions? Familiar sights and sounds? “I suppose the doctor agreed,” Janice
said.

“I have no idea if one’s been consulted.” The maid eyed her balefully. “This is a
family
matter, the duke told us, and we’re to remain silent about it.”

Janice refused to cringe. So she’d been caught fishing, but who could blame her? She’d
been invited by the dowager, and she had a right to know something of what was going
on.

Surely a doctor had been consulted if Her Grace’s condition was so dire. Janice felt
a sudden sense of urgency to see her.
This is why you’re here,
she thought,
to check on this woman. Not to win a duke. And definitely not to daydream about kissing
a groom.

Her heart lifted. Perhaps the complications she’d faced here would quickly fade away
if she could be of real use. She hadn’t felt truly useful to anyone since Mama had
left her sewing shop behind and married Daddy. Everyone around Janice these days was
entirely too competent. Even her younger siblings, Robert and Cynthia—despite their
occasional foray into high jinx that made no sense to her—were generally sensible
and able to handle their own business.

The maid brought Janice to a large door and opened it quietly. “Lady Janice Sherwood
to see you, Your Majesty.”

“Send her in,” a tiny voice proclaimed with a great deal of haughtiness.

Janice walked shyly into the room, which was small and dark, entirely inappropriate
for an elderly convalescent
or
a queen.

A nurse stood in the corner, folding cloths. Deep in the pillows was a petite elderly
lady with a proud chin and nose. She had silver hair and wore a beautiful mauve muslin
dressing gown. “I’ve been anticipating your arrival.” Her eyes were narrowed, her
gaze unrelenting. “Don’t you know that one must never, ever keep a queen waiting?”

Janice felt a moment’s shock but tried not to show it. Without hesitating, she went
to the woman’s bedside and sat down in a chair already placed there. “I’m so glad
to be here, Your …
Majesty.
”

The old lady extended her tiny, wrinkled hand. There was a giant ruby ring upon it.

The duchess might be frail, but she managed to keep her hand aloft. Obviously, she
wanted Janice to kiss that ring. Gingerly, Janice lifted the bony fingers to her mouth
and pressed her lips to the cold red stone. She felt silly. But immediately the dowager
withdrew her hand, so Janice supposed she’d done the right thing.

“I didn’t send for you so that I can reminisce of my childhood and bore you to tears,”
her hostess said testily, “so don’t you dare imagine we’ll be sitting here all day
wasting time. I’m not an invalid. I have things to do. Places to be. If only Halsey
would let me out.”

“Won’t he?” Janice didn’t know what to think.

“No, he won’t.” The dowager’s eyes filled with the most interesting mix of scorn and
bravado. “How does he expect me to find my crown jewels?”

“Oh.…”

“Do
you
know where they are?” Her tone was accusing.

“I-I don’t at the moment.” It must be awful to be so worried about something that
is entirely in one’s head, Janice thought. “But I’m sure they can be found.”

The old woman gave a gusty sigh. “Perhaps a princess is borrowing them. If that’s
the case, she’d best bring them back. Do you know if there’s a ball tonight?”

“Yes,” Janice said. “I believe there
is
a ball.”

The old lady stretched out her other hand, which was completely bare.
Ah
. She simply wanted someone to hold it. Janice took it and felt a great tenderness
toward her. Her nerves disappeared. The duchess was only someone who wanted love and
attention. Janice could manage that easily.

“Where are the festivities to take place?” the dowager asked impatiently, even as
she clung to Janice’s hand as if she never wanted to let go.

“Down the street.” Janice was surprised how easily she was able to lie. But the dowager
was like a little girl in this state, even if she was rather haughty, too. Janice
wanted to please her. “There’ll be loads of women in bright gowns. And the men will
look quite elegant, I should imagine. Flowers will spill from every window, and the
chandeliers will blaze with candles.”

“What address?”

“Somewhere on Half Moon.” Janice smiled just thinking of the lovely residential street.

The dowager frowned. “Must be Lord and Lady Foster, then. He’s entirely too cocky,
and she—well, she’s a watering pot, cries at the least little thing. No wonder he
has no patience with her.” She released a gusty sigh. “I knew I could trust you to
tell me all the goings-on.”

“Of course,” murmured Janice.

The dowager lifted an enormous handkerchief to her nose with her free hand and sneezed.

“Bless you.” Janice saw the nurse pause in her housekeeping for a moment, then return
to folding a cloth with a sure, steady motion.

The dowager fisted her handkerchief and leaned toward Janice as if seeing her for
the first time. “You’re Lady Janice, are you not?” Her eyes were softer now, even
friendly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty?” The duchess gave an indulgent little laugh and waved her free hand.
“You must be travel weary, my dear. I’m merely the Dowager Duchess of Halsey. Not
the Queen.”

Oh, dear.
This wasn’t going to be easy. Janice caught the nurse’s eye—the woman shrugged and
continued about her business.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” Janice wondered how long the dowager’s moment of clarity
would last. “Of course. My mistake.”

“It’s all right.” She eyed Janice kindly. “I had my secretary write you. Would you
like to know why?”

“I did wonder. But I was very glad, Your—Your Grace.”

A fond smile passed over the old woman’s face. “Your mother used to sew for me. She
made me a gown, and you were there when it was being fitted. You held up a scrap of
velvet cut from the same cloth and said that someday you’d be a duchess, too. You
said no one ever made fun of duchesses nor pounded on their door for the rent. I never
forgot that. Your mother was terribly embarrassed. You were a pale little thing sitting
in a corner with a book. I almost didn’t see you.”

Janice blushed. “I wish I could remember. I must have been very young.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said the dowager. “
I
remembered. I kept track of your mother. She made me a good many more gowns, and
I referred all my friends to her until she became quite the thing among seamstresses.
She deserved the business—her talent is remarkable—but in my mind’s eye, I always
saw you, the little girl who wanted to be a duchess.”

“Your Grace.” Janice blinked back tears. “How very kind of you to help my mother so.”

“And I was so happy to see her meet her marquess. I knew that would make you a lady.
Lady Janice. No longer the little shopgirl.”

“No, I no longer am.” Janice swallowed the lump in her throat. In a very odd way,
the duchess had contributed to Janice’s mother’s success … and even to her meeting
Daddy. Life was certainly funny.

The dowager sneezed again into her giant handkerchief.

Janice blinked. “I’m sorry you’ve a cold.”

But when the old lady looked up, her eyes were different. They were narrowed once
more. “Enough of colds,” she said in the same superior tone she’d employed when Janice
had first entered the room. “There’s something you must do for England, young lady.”

She was being the Queen again!

“Really?” Janice wasn’t so taken aback this time. In fact, it was rather exciting
talking to the dowager—illness aside, of course. She was a challenge, to be certain,
but terribly interesting. “What’s that, Your Majesty? Aside from finding the crown
jewels?”

The duchess threw a suspicious glance at the nurse, then crooked a finger at Janice.

Janice came closer.

“I have a mission for you,” the dowager whispered in her ear. “You’re a girl after
my own heart.”

Janice laid a hand on her heart, which was thumping wildly.
“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“But why do you say so? You don’t even know my name.”