The Hallucinatory Duke (6 page)

“I’m willing to give it a try. If you want, we can get together at my apartment. Much of my research is on my computer there. What about you? You said you recently moved to Atlanta, right?”

“Right. My company transferred me here from Memphis. I found an apartment but it isn’t very well furnished yet, so meeting at your place suits me.”

“What do you do, anyway?”

“I’m a computer programmer. Matter of fact, I’m due back at work in fifteen minutes. Are you free to get started tonight?”

“Sure. I’ll give you directions to my place. Say, are you going to eat that pie?”

He pushed it across the table to her, then pulled out his billfold, removed a couple of twenties, and tossed them on the table. “Shall I pick up dinner on my way to your apartment tonight?”

She set her fork down next to the pie. “That sounds great, but what made you think of bringing food?”

“Uncle Ben gave me instructions to buy your lunch if he didn’t show up. He said you’re always hungry, so I figured maybe you were a little short on cash.”

“Thanks for the thought, but Ben misled you. I’m always starved at lunch because I rarely eat breakfast, not because I’m too poor to buy food.”

“I’m beginning to think Ben misled me about quite a few things.”

“Anything specific?”

“Well, he certainly didn’t tell me that his
researcher
was a gorgeous blonde who also happens to be among the top one per cent in the nation where IQ is concerned. And believe me, I find high IQs extremely sexy.” He gave her a slow smile that had her insides going into orbit.

Amelia gulped, then grinned. “Okay, nice line, but I have to ask—where do you come up with that top one per cent figure?”

He grinned back. “Like they say, ‘it takes one to know one’.” He glanced at his cell phone. “Unfortunately, it’s getting late and I really have to go.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled something on a paper napkin. “Here’s my number. Text me your address and I’ll find you. Is seven o’clock okay?”

“Great.” She picked her fork up. “Call if you have any problems finding my place. You’ll have my number after I text you.”

“Will do.” He gathered up his newspaper then stood. “Enjoy my pie.”

“No worries there.” She smiled broadly and cut into the syrupy filling. “Bye.”

She took a bite then twisted around in the booth to watch him walk out of the diner. The sight of his butt being hugged by tight black jeans was almost as sweet as her pie, and she sighed with appreciation as she watched him stride toward the exit.

The unexpected flash of heat that streaked through her seemed strangely familiar, almost as though she’d admired that particular bum—and the man it was attached to—on some occasion in the far past.

But that was impossible.

“Get a grip, girl,” she muttered aloud when Jack disappeared through the doorway. She shook her head and turned around to devote her attention to her pie. But even as she chewed on the gooey pecans, her mind persisted in searching for memories that simply could not exist.

Chapter Five

Ben never showed up at the diner, so Amelia wouldn’t have been able to return the diary to him anyway, which was just as well, because she’d decided to keep working with it. Jack’s unexpected appearance had spurred her interest in solving the mystery surrounding the Duke of Durbane and the woman he’d married.

She spent the rest of the afternoon transcribing more mind-numbing entries.

Tea was late today. I had to speak rather sharply to the housekeeper, who of course blamed the delay on Cook. Servants are such a trial.

Rain finally arrived this morning and has remained steady all day. The farmers will be pleased.

Amelia was about to doze off in her computer chair when an entry shocked her out of her stupor.

Amy, who insists that I not call her Duchess, came for a visit. She is devastated to think that the babe might be declared illegitimate and the duke left without an heir. These past two years have been difficult for her. I hope she can cope with this new disaster.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she informed Wellington, who had been sleeping on the desk next to the keyboard. He opened one eye, then closed it again.

Amelia quickly flipped the page and stared in horror. Ragged edges near the diary’s gutter indicated that several pages had been ripped out. “What the…?”

She sighed, leant back in her chair, then jumped straight up when the chiming of the doorbell startled her.

Frowning, she glanced at the clock and moaned. Seven-oh-five. Jack had no doubt arrived with dinner and she hadn’t so much as run a comb through her hair or brushed her teeth since lunch.

She cupped a hand over her mouth and nose and blew her breath out, hoping to confirm that she didn’t have pecan-pie breath, but she had to admit that she really couldn’t tell.

“Just a minute,” she yelled towards the door, while making a mad dash to the bathroom. A quick gargle with mouthwash and a spritz of perfume had to suffice for her freshening up. Another dash to the door, and she paused, forcing what she hoped was a placid smile, then looked through the peephole.

Jack was glaring at her. She quickly turned the lock and opened the door. He clutched three takeout bags from a Chinese restaurant. A black case—probably holding a laptop—hung from a strap on his shoulder.

He had changed into casual clothes. Faded jeans so worn and soft that they appeared moulded to his long, muscular legs were paired with a short-sleeved T-shirt from an Aerosmith concert. There was no way that the duke—with his cutaway coats and embroidered waistcoats and diamond stickpins—had ever looked this sexy.

Amelia was struck again with that nettlesome sense that she had known—perhaps even loved—Jack at some point in the past. “Déjà vu all over again,” she muttered, thoroughly irritated with herself.

“Did you say something?” Jack regarded her with a frown.

Amelia gave herself a mental shake. “Nothing important.” She quickly relieved him of two of the bags and stepped back. “Come in. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve been working all afternoon on that Comstock woman’s diary, and I just got an unpleasant shock.”

She carried the bags to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area and motioned for Jack to follow. “You didn’t call, so I guess you had no trouble finding my place.”

“Oh, I called. Several times as a matter of fact. I wasn’t sure whether to get pizza or Chinese and I wanted to ask your preference. My calls kept getting dropped, so I just took a chance on Chinese.”

“The calls got dropped?” Amelia frowned. “That’s strange. The signal here is usually great. Where were you calling from?”

“Just about three blocks away.”

Amelia shivered. “This is a little creepy. I wonder if the duke was interfering with the calls. Maybe he didn’t want you coming here.”

“You’ve been working at the computer too long.” Jack’s elevated eyebrows suggested he found Amelia’s fears to be rather far-fetched. “Calls are dropped on a regular basis all over the world. Don’t read too much into it.”

“I suppose that’s true. In any case, you guessed right about the food because I love Chinese.” She pulled a couple of cartons out of the bags. “I’ll warm these. Make yourself comfortable. You can set your laptop up next to mine on the desk over there if you want.”

“No rush.” He set his case down beside the sofa. “What’s this unpleasant shock you said you experienced?”

“Before we get into that, perhaps we should eat and then compare notes. I didn’t know you existed until today. Why hasn’t Ben mentioned you?”

“You’d have to ask him. He told me about you, but he only referred to you as ‘his researcher’. I thought you were a man, until he asked me to meet with you and then told me your name.”

Amelia took the sesame chicken out of the microwave and stuck the pepper steak in. “So how long have you been researching for Ben?” she asked.

“Not long. He kept trying to get me involved in this duke business, but I kept blowing him off. It simply didn’t interest me. But now…” His voice trailed off.

“Now what?”

He shrugged. “Now I’m curious as to why I’m having these strange encounters with a woman from the past who looks somewhat like you. Except for the hair, of course, and I assume you’re not a natural blonde.”

Amelia decided to ignore that pointed remark. “The food’s hot. I’ve got tea, diet colas and beer. Do you have a preference?”

“Beer’s good.”

They settled down at the table and ate in silence for a few minutes. Jack was the first to speak. “Are you familiar with the Hardwicke Marriage Act of 1754?”

“Of course I’m familiar with the Hardwicke Act. I majored in European history after all.”

“Well, I didn’t, so how about explaining it to me. It’s something Uncle Ben keeps harping on about.”

Amy took a sip of her diet cola, then cleared her throat. “The Hardwicke Act was intended to end irregular or clandestine marriages, which was a custom that had led to a lawsuit that had to be settled in the House of Lords. But, like most laws, while this one solved some problems, it created others. One of its most troublesome paragraphs stated that a marriage was null and void if one of the couple was a minor, marrying by licence without proper permission of the father or legal guardian.”

“And what does that have to do with the Duke of Durbane?” Jack demanded.

“I’m getting to that, but it’s complicated. Suffice it to say that even though the duke and Amy had been legally married, their offspring could have been declared illegitimate.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know. I can explain the intricacies of the Act, but really, we should do a timeline of some sort so we’re both coming from the same place.”

Jack shrugged. “If you say so. But most of what I know comes from Uncle Ben’s research. And frankly, unlike him, I’m not that interested in proving we’re legitimate descendants of the duke. At this point, I mostly want to understand why that female is visiting me.”

Amelia pushed her plate to one side and rested her elbows on the table. “So…you want to tell me about your visits from her?” She struggled to hide a smile while watching a blush creep upwards from Jack’s neck to suffuse first his cheeks, then his forehead, just as she remembered seeing him blush in the past.

Damn. Where had that last thought come from?
She bit her lip and forced herself to pay attention to Jack’s answer.

“No, I really don’t want to talk about my experiences with that woman. Do you want to tell me about your visits?”

“I’m almost positive my uninvited guest is the duke. He looks just like the portraits I’ve seen. And I’m wondering if your visitor could be his wife, since all of our research has centred around those two.”

“That would make sense, yeah.” He shot her an evil grin. “So, are you going to share details about what happens when the duke comes calling on you?”

She bared her teeth at him. “Let’s just agree that each of us is sexually pleasured without being an active participant. Is that fair?”

“Something like that.” His face turned a shade darker red. “I liked it, but I also hated it, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know. Frankly, the duke seems to think I’m a courtesan and treats me accordingly.”

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that this figment of your imagination—or whatever he is—actually believes you’re a hooker?”

Amelia stiffened. “Hooker is a harsh word and not one that the duke would use. But yes, he appears to think I’m in the habit of using sex for my own purposes. Also, he mentioned having had a mistress, so I think we can safely assume he is accustomed to dealing with paramours.”

“This just gets weirder and weirder.” Jack drained his beer and pushed back from the table. He stood and started pacing the small confines of Amelia’s apartment. “We need to do something before this situation gets even more bizarre. Do you have any ideas?”

“Just one, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m crazier than ever.”

He stopped in mid-pace and stared. “If you have any sort of idea at all regarding this situation, it’s almost guaranteed to sound crazy. So what’s your solution?”

Amelia walked across the room and paused in front of him. “We need to have sex.”

She bit back a smile when she noticed his throat jump as though he’d had to swallow a sudden excess of saliva before he could speak. “You mean us, as in you and me?”

“Exactly.”

“When?” he asked quickly.

“How about this evening?”

“Hey, I’m not objecting, but what good is that supposed to do, other than the obvious?”

“I’m not sure, but it seems to me that it’s worth a try. After all, I’m seemingly being visited by the duke and you’re apparently being visited by Amy Pennycut, the woman he married, and their visits centre around sex. It stands to reason—if there’s any reason to be found in this situation—that we’re supposed to have sex with each other.”

“You know, I’ve never objected in the past when a woman suggested we have sex, but I’m just not sure I can go along this time. What if the duke is here watching?”

Amelia plopped her hands on her hips. “Oh, you
would
have to put that scenario in my mind, wouldn’t you?”

“Hey, you raised that possibility when you thought he might be responsible for the dropped calls earlier this evening. But I’m sure we don’t have anything to worry about.” He tried for a grin, but it looked weak.

Amelia shook her head. “Forget sex. I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it now, wondering if we were being observed by a voyeur.”

“Maybe we could go to a motel,” Jack suggested hopefully.

“No. It was a bad idea. Forget I mentioned it. Anyway, I’m not ordinarily in the habit of having sex with men I’ve just met. This is an unusual circumstance.”

“Think of it this way. Maybe we really met two hundred years ago.” He wasn’t smiling, and Amelia wondered if he’d experienced some of the same sensations she had, sensations that suggested they weren’t really strangers after all.

She cocked her head to one side and stared at him for a few seconds. His gaze was just as solemn as hers, but she wasn’t anywhere near ready to explore this particular topic with him. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”