The Duke Can Go to the Devil (25 page)

William carefully accepted the gift, giving her a sideways look. “Are you certain? I know she is your favorite.”

“Mei-li is my favorite, too. Maybe if you ask her real nice to come back, she will.”

His chest ached at the thought of bringing her back here. “Miss Bradford wants to go home, and we have to respect that.” He'd tell her good-bye properly, but he wouldn't stand in the way of what she wanted.

“It never hurts to ask. That's what Julian always says.”

He nodded. “We'll see. Now let's go find him so I can tell him good-bye.” As William clasped his sister's small hand and headed up to the nursery, her words rolled over in his mind again and again.
It never hurts to ask.
What would May say if he actually asked? What if she had a reason not to sail away? She had told him once that home was where the heart resides. What if he could show her that her heart was right here in England? It was a very, very long shot, but with the hope tugging at his heart that he could somehow change her mind, he knew he couldn't go on without at least trying.

An unfamiliar rush of nerves made his pulse pound at the idea. There might well be a lot more riding on this trip than he originally thought.

*   *   *

“You shouldn't have come so quickly.” May tried to sound stern, but she knew she was completely unsuccessful.

Sophie rolled her eyes with the dramatics of an opera singer. “Of course I should have. What good is having friends if one can't drop everything and run to help them in their time of need? Just think how boring our lives would be otherwise.”

May gave her friend a grateful smile. “Well, preferably one isn't on one's honeymoon when the call for help comes. I wish you would have waited a bit before rushing down here.” She plopped down on the chaise longue, batting at an innocent lemon tree branch. “God knows I'm not going anywhere.”

The look of sympathy from Sophie was as welcome as it was helpless. “I'm so, so sorry about this. I know how
much you wanted to go home, and I know how little consolation it is for me to say so, but my heart still breaks for you. Of course, I'm selfishly glad that you will be close enough to see on a regular basis, but I think it may be too soon to point that out.”

May gave a watery laugh. “It is. Quite. If I weren't so happy you were here, I would be tempted to kick you out for having said so.”

“I was banking on that,” she said with a wink. “As for the honeymoon, I plan for this entire year to be our extended honeymoon, so I can spare a few days. On second thought, perhaps I shall make it a lifetime honeymoon. I daresay Evan won't mind.”

Cutting a wry smile toward her, May said, “That sounded shockingly close to a corrupting remark. I'd like to think I had a small part in adding a bit of scandal to your repertoire.”

The day was exceptionally fine, which only seemed to mock her. A few nice days here and there would not make her feel any differently about this place.

Sophie chuckled, settling back on her own chair. “I'd say you are plenty responsible for any scandalous thing I may do or say. You gave me bravery. You were the one who made me think I was good enough to try for what I wanted, and I'm married to the man I love because of it. I owe you everything, and I will be here for you for whatever you may need.”

May reach out and clasped Sophie's hand. “You and Charity are the best things that have happened to me in years. No matter what, I'm not sorry for coming here. Your friendships were worth it.”

She was more grateful than ever for it now. She was adrift, and Sophie's presence was the only real thing that felt like an anchor. If Charity wasn't all the way back in
Durham, May knew that she would be here for her as well. It was comforting, despite the hollowness that had opened up inside her ever since her father's reluctant announcement.

Blinking a bit of mistiness from her dark gaze, Sophie sent her a huge grin. “Well, we'll figure out something to make things better.” She sat up suddenly, her eyes going wide as she leaned forward. “The duke! Whatever happened with Radcliffe? That sounds like the perfect distraction from this mess.”

May groaned, rubbing her hands over her eyes. “
Please
can we not talk about him now.”

Even in the midst of all this upheaval, she couldn't quite stop thinking about him. She was so conflicted in her feelings. There could never, ever be anything between them. That much she knew without a shred of doubt. It had been a delicious distraction, a bit of fun that had made the end of her time here bearable. If she had known she would be stuck here for the rest of her life, she never would have indulged.

The truth was, as much as she found herself thinking of him, he still stood as the symbol of why she could never have the future she wanted. His mill may have only a small impact in the scheme of things, but it represented the changes that had led to her father's lost position, and to May's lost dreams.

And there she went, running in circles with it all over again. She was driving herself mad. The only thing she knew for sure was that, all other things aside, she bloody well
missed
him, and that was not all right with her.

Based on Sophie's suddenly keen expression, May had only served to pique her interest. “Right. Absolutely.” She paused for perhaps a quarter of a second. “Except, what better way to get your mind off your
father's dreadful news? Which probably would have been easier to do if I had not just brought it up again—sorry—but that's why telling me about the duke is a good idea.”

Sometimes Sophie's logic could make a person dizzy. May gave a great, long sigh and cut flat eyes over to her friend. “To answer the questions I know are coming: Yes, we clashed again, yes, we ended up kissing, no, nothing else happened. We learned in short order that we are simply not compatible, so my aunt and I came home.”

Sophie deserved better answers than that, but May simply did not have it in her just then. Her heart was too raw.

“Goodness,” Sophie said, obviously surprised by the new information. She opened her mouth as though to ask more, closed it, then gave a decisive nod. “All right, I promise not to push.”

“Thank you.”

“Even though I am ravenously curious what happened with the kiss.”

“Thank you again.”

May was quiet for a moment, staring up at the brilliant blue sky, but thinking only of that kiss by the stream. It had been her favorite. The one where he had finally given himself to her. Though the one in the room, where he had pressed so wonderfully against her, was a close second. Swallowing, she looked over at Sophie. “And it was kiss
es
.”

Sophie nodded, her eyes wide but her mouth studiously shut. Knowing Sophie, that was quite a feat.

“But it wasn't what you think,” May added, the words coming forth despite her resolve not to linger on the topic. “It was a flirtation, that is all. It was a little distraction while I bided time until I would leave this place.”

“I see.” More silence. Sophie must have been dying, saying so little.

“Good. Just so you know there was never any intent for something different on either of our parts. We are as incompatible as ice and hot coals.”

“Mmhmm,” Sophie murmured, nodding. “Kind of like Charity and Cadgwith?”

“Yes! I mean no,” she said quickly, realizing that was not the best example, given Charity's betrothal to Lord Cadgwith. “We have no common ground. More important, we have no
desire
for common ground, which makes all the difference.”

“But,” Sophie said, drawing the word out as she reached forward for May's hands, “that was before either one of you knew you would be staying here. Things might look differently through that lens.”

Despair washed through her all over again. She didn't want to look at the world through that lens. That lens was nothing but bitterness and disappointment at the knowledge that she would never find her way back to where she longed to be. Regardless, that lens couldn't change how incompatible they were. The exceedingly proper, tremendously wealthy, paragon-of-English-patriotism duke, and an outspoken, rule-breaking, travel-loving daughter of a sea captain would never mix.

Behind them, a throat cleared conspicuously. They turned to see Hargrove navigating the flagstone pathway. “Pardon me, Miss Bradford, but Lady Stanwix requests your presence in the drawing room. The Duke of Radcliffe has come to call.”

T
he announcement shouldn't have affected her quite so profoundly as it did. May's hand flew to her chest as the world seemed to momentarily blur around her.
Radcliffe?
What the devil was he doing here?

She knew Hargrove was waiting for her acknowledgment, but for the life of her, she couldn't seem to utter a sound. Sophie smiled and said, “Thank you, Hargrove. She'll be there in a trice.”

The man dipped his head and turned sharply on his heel, heading back toward the house. May turned to Sophie when she felt she could speak with some amount of normalcy. “Thank you. I don't know what came over me.”

“Shock, from the look of it, which may or may not have something to do with those kisses you spoke of. Clearly
they
were not incompatible,” she said, offering an encouraging smile. “Now, do you wish for me to stay or go?”

May came to her feet, rubbing her suddenly cold hands together. There was absolutely no reason the duke should have come for her, but whatever he had to say, she wanted the strength of her friend by her side. “Stay. Please.”

Sophie nodded, and the two of them made their way
back toward the house. When they reached the drawing room, May paused, drawing a fortifying breath. Inevitably the question of when she was to leave would come up, and she absolutely dreaded admitting she was here for the foreseeable future. Would he regret allowing the liberties they had shared? Pretend sadness? Care at all?

Nodding to Sophie, she smoothed her skirts and headed inside. Her gaze found his at once, stealing the breath she had just taken. He sat perched on one of her aunt's ridiculously uncomfortable chairs, obviously ill at ease. The moment she entered the room, he rose to his feet and offered a short bow. “Miss Bradford, Lady Evansleigh, how good to see you again.”

His hair was neatly in place, his charcoal jacket crisp and cravat neatly tied. He looked every inch the duke, including the look of determination in his dark golden gaze. He was clearly on a mission, which made her that much more uncertain. She straightened her spine, determined that he would not know how much seeing him again affected her.

“And you, Duke,” Sophie said, a bright smile in place. She glanced to May and widened her eyes when May didn't speak right away.

Swallowing, she dipped her head. “Your Grace.” Turning to her aunt, she said, “Where is Papa?” There was no telling how her father would react to the duke, especially after their talk of romance yesterday. The last thing she wanted was Papa getting his hopes up that she had found a suitor after all.

Aunt Victoria folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Your father is out walking.” She flattened her lips in disapproval. “Again.”

The duke glanced toward May before turning his
attention to Aunt Victoria. “And a fine day for it. Perhaps I could interest the ladies in one as well?”

May pursed her lips, weighing her options. If they wanted to talk privately, a walk would be their best chance. But right then, she was decidedly unenthusiastic about finding herself alone with him. Already she could feel the damnable attraction between them, inexorably pulling her toward him. It only would serve to make things that much harder when he left.

Sophie glanced toward May, then turned back to the duke. “I think a walk sounds lovely. May?”

“I'm not opposed,” she finally said.

“Excellent,” he responded, his eyes surprisingly warm. He navigated his way through her aunt's overstuffed room to where they stood near the door. “Then it is settled. I think a promenade to the river would be just the thing.”

Whatever had brought him here, it couldn't have been anything bad. His eyes held soft welcome, as though he were thinking of the times they had fit together so well.

May swallowed, trying to recall all the reasons he shouldn't be here. “Very well. Aunt, I'm certain we shall be back shortly.”

As she led the way outside, she could feel his eyes on her back as they walked. She barely managed to repress a shiver, but gooseflesh still peppered her arm.

They stepped out onto the pavement and turned toward the park. Before they had walked five steps, he cleared his throat. “Lady Evansleigh, I wonder if you might be willing to allow Miss Bradford and me a bit of privacy.”

Butterflies set flight in her stomach at the thought of being alone with him. She exchanged glances with
Sophie, not even sure what she wanted. Her friend, however, had no hesitations.

“Actually,” she said, her smile broad and knowing, “I'm certain my husband will be wondering what became of me. It was lovely to see you again. May, do send me a note later, if you please.” She leaned forward and gave May a quick hug. “Be nice,” she whispered, then hastily made her escape.

Drawing a fortifying breath, May turned to face the man she had thought she would never see again.

*   *   *

She was so, so lovely. Facing her again, alone at last, felt so completely right. William smiled, immensely glad he had come, and held out his elbow. “Perhaps we can take that walk to the park? I'd prefer not to talk in front of your neighbor's windows.”

She looked down at his arm as though unsure of whether she wished to touch him, then blew out a quiet breath and settled her fingers oh-so lightly along his sleeve. After all they had shared, he was hard-pressed not to set his hand over hers. It was oddly foreign, being so polite with her. She was the one person with whom he never seemed to play by the rules.

As they walked along the pavement toward the park, his mind raced with what he would say to her.
I can't stop thinking of you. Come back to me. Let me show you what you could have here.
None of those sounded right. Yes, he wanted her to know that he wanted her here, but what did he have to offer her that might entice her to stay?

As they turned down the dirt path into the park, he stole a glance at her. She looked tense, worried even. What was it that she thought he was here to say? He
slowed to a stop, and she looked up to him in question. “Is something the matter?”

Her sapphire eyes held a wealth of emotions as she gave an ambiguous shrug. “There is much on my mind since my father's return.”

“Your aunt told me he had come back. You must be delighted to see him again.” His words felt stilted, as though he were talking to a stranger. He had so much he wanted to say, and he had no idea where to start.

“Yes. Very.” She gave him an unconvincing smile.

Could this odd reluctance mean that perhaps she wasn't as determined to leave as she once might have been? Hope flared to life, a small flicker that maybe, just possibly, she might want to be with him as well. As neutrally as he could manage, he said, “Do you know yet when you are to return?”

The dismay that knitted her brow and pinched her mouth took him by surprise. “No.”

That was it. No elaboration, no explanation, just a very emphatic and displeased
no
. There was something wrong, he was sure of it. The change in her mood and even her posture was tangible. “May, what's the matter?”

For a moment, he thought she might not answer, but then she looked up at him, her eyes dull despite the bright sunlight. “I'm not going back.”

Not going back? As much as a part of him wanted to rejoice, the larger part of him knew that this wasn't what she wanted. There was no way she would make such a choice of her own volition, particularly given the despair he glimpsed within her. He set his hand over her fingers, pressing them against his arm. “What happened?”

She shook her head, glancing down to the ground before meeting his gaze again. “I didn't realize at the time just how personal the discussion at the mill was. The Company has parted ways with my father in response to the decreased textile trade. He's not going back, and therefore neither am I.”

The pronouncement was like a punch to his gut, stealing the breath from his lungs. All his work, all his effort toward breaking the Company's monopoly . . . He'd never imagined it would ever hurt someone he cared for. He hated seeing the pain on her face, hearing it in her voice, knowing that he, in essence, was the cause of it. He squeezed her fingers in earnest. “May, I'm . . . so very sorry.” He didn't know what else to tell her.

What could he say? Everything she wanted had just turned to dust right before her eyes and there was absolutely nothing to be done for it.

She stepped back, pulling her hand from his. “Are you?” The words weren't angry, but the sadness in them was a thousand times worse. “For all your talk of progress and the Company, are you truly sorry for me?”

“Yes,” he said honestly, forcefully. His chest ached, a dull, insistent pain that originated directly over his heart. He wanted her to stay in England, but not like this. Not because she was forced, especially when the fault could be laid squarely at his feet. He couldn't be sorry for all the work he had done in order to improve trade for England, but he hated that she had been caught in the middle.

“Yes,” he said again, softer this time. Stepping forward, he reached out and grasped both her hands. She didn't pull away as he half expected she would. Squeezing gently, he met her gaze directly. “I care for you. Greatly. It's why I came here today. I had to tell you
good-bye properly. More to the point, I had to tell you that I didn't want you to go.”

She peered back at him, her eyes wide yet cautious. “Why are you saying this? Is it because you feel pity—”

“No,” he said, not even letting her finish the sentence. “I'm saying it because it's true. The time we spent together was unlike anything I have ever experienced. You bring out a different side of me, a side that I wish to see more of.”

He tilted his head, offering a small, honest smile. “I know this feels like the worst possible fate, and I'm not discounting your suffering. But perhaps there can be a silver lining.”

Moisture gathered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “How could there possibly be a silver lining in being stuck in this country for the foreseeable future?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Because I'm here,” he said simply.
And I want you here, as well.

She shook her head, her eyebrows drawn together in a little v. “It's not that easy. You are a duke with a thousand duties and I am a woman who will never fit in, and who will always be pining for something she can't have.”

The look on her face was like a knife to his heart. He hated that she couldn't have what she so clearly wanted, but at the same time, he wished she could see that this could be an opportunity. That maybe now, without the possibility of her going away, they could explore what was between them. There could be something so much better than the life she had once known, if only she would consider it.

He lifted her hands and kissed each one in turn, bringing her that much closer to him. “I am a duke who is just a man, and you are the woman who saw that all
along. A woman who intrigues him.
Ignites
him. A woman who is more than just the place she lives.”

Marriage.

The word came to him in a flash. It was insanity—could she be any more unsuited to the role of duchess? Perhaps not . . . But in that moment he saw with perfect clarity that what she was suited to was the role of his wife. He, William, not the title he held. For perhaps the first time in his life, he could separate the two in his mind and see that he had needs and desires that were separate from the dukedom. He possessed the title, not the other way around.

And May possessed his heart.

She challenged him in a way he never thought he wanted. She was strong, and opinionated, and refused to bow to the dictates of others, and God help him but he
loved
it. She brought out a passion in him he never knew he could possess.

Her lips softened as her brow smoothed. She wet her lips and looked up at him, indecision showing in her eyes. “William—”

But before she could say more, a man approached, his footsteps startling them both. May's eyes went huge as she tugged away from William. “Papa!”

Dread surged through him as he turned to face the older man, whose peppered gray brows were raised halfway up his weathered forehead. Incredibly, he didn't look angry, but more stunned and curious.

“Well, daughter, what have we here? I was under the impression there was no young man who had captured your interest.”

William straightened, offering the man his full respect. “My most abject apologies, Captain Bradford.”
This was what happened when he ignored his own rules. He could only imagine what the man was thinking.

The captain sent him an assessing look, taking in his clothes and manner. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir.” To William's surprise, he actually looked pleased. His pale eyes glinted as he crossed his arms across his chest. The fact that he wasn't furious made it clear he was every bit as unconventional as May.

May stepped forward, her cheeks showing a hint of a blush. “My apologies, Papa. I was just explaining our circumstances and he was merely comforting me.”

His eyes crinkled with a hint of an indulgent grin as he said, “Pray, introduce us, Mei-li.”

Blowing out a long-suffering sigh, she gestured toward her father. “Captain Michael Bradford, this is my friend, William Spencer. Otherwise known as the Duke of Radcliffe.” It was the least correct, most irreverent introduction William had ever had, but it served to relieve some of the tension from his shoulders.

Across from him, the moment seemed to have the exact opposite effect on her father. All the amusement drained from the older man's face as he took a step back and scowled. “The Duke of
Radcliffe
?”

There was such disgust in his voice, such vehemence, that William knew at once that May's father recognized his name. More important, he obviously knew the role William had played in the East India Company legislation.