My Favorite Duke (The Duke Hunters Club Book 2)

by Bianca Blythe

  LUCAS KNEW THE PROPER thing would be to walk down the corridor, descend the stairs, find the earl in his library, and inform him his daughter had behaved in a manner devoid of propriety.

  The exchange would be uncomfortable but appreciated.

  Were the earl to discover he’d had a conversation with Lady Juliet in his room, the earl would view him with suspicion.

  Fortunately, Lucas was not bothered by the earl’s opinion of him. He would see Lady Juliet at dinner, then he would observe her further. This was a woman to be careful about, after all. He’d been foolish to consider rushing back so soon. Evidently, Sebastian’s instincts about Lady Juliet’s nefariousness had been correct.

  For some odd reason, the thought of spending the next few days with Lady Juliet was not a horrible thought, and he whistled as he prepared for dinner.

  When the gong sounded, he met the earl and countess in their sitting room. Lady Juliet was absent, and he smiled. No doubt, she was squirming at the thought of seeing him again.

  “Ah, Ainsworth,” Lord Shelley said. “Enjoying the bluebells?”

  “Yes, yes.” Lucas adjusted his spectacles, taking care to smudge them. “Most fascinating.”

  “Pity about the rain.”

  “Rain possesses great strength in maintaining flowers, so they don’t shrivel up and disappear.”

  “Disappear?” Lord Shelley shot him a horrified look.

  “Your garden is quite full with flowers,” Lucas assured him.

  “And it doesn’t always rain, hmph. Perhaps I should be paying my gardeners more.”

  The butler served more drinks, and from time to time, Lucas glanced at the door.

  Lady Juliet did not appear.

  The butler opened the door to the dining room, and Lord and Lady Shelley rose.

  Was Lady Juliet truly not attending? An odd pang of disappointment rushed through him.

  Obviously, the only thing he was feeling was boredom.

  Obviously, he did not truly miss the company of a woman who went about snooping in strangers’ rooms and took journeys late at night.

  “Where is Lady Juliet?” he asked, after a break came in the conversation about the vast superiority of the Lake District to London.

  “Oh, she’s not coming down to dinner.” The earl cut a thick slice of lamb, dabbed it in gravy, and chewed.

  “She’s in her room?” Lucas smiled. He almost didn’t blame her. He’d given her a shock. “Headache?”

  “Oh, no. She’s gone back to Cumberland.”

  “E-Excuse me?” Lucas stammered.

  “Said she missed her cousin. Whom she just saw.” The earl shrugged. “Women are maddening.”

  “Are you married, Your Grace?” Lady Shelley asked.

  “I’m not,” Lucas admitted, bracing for the countess to declare herself a matchmaker for some unknown niece.

  “Smart boy.” The earl nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t get married.”

  Something must have shown in Lucas’s face, because the countess leaned toward him.

  “I’m afraid my husband has shocked you. His first marriage was terrible.”

  “Damned dull she was,” the earl said. “And so much crying, even before she became ill.”

  Lucas blinked.

  “And that red hair.” The earl shook, venturing into his first moment of athleticism since the evening begun that did not include mastication, as if the action might dispel memories from his mind. He glanced at the countess. “Obviously, I was seeing you, my dear.”

  The countess fluttered her lashes and beamed, pressing a hand to the earl’s.

  Lucas looked away, but not because of the sudden intimate moment between the hosts. Others might have termed their actions adorable, but the earl’s first words rang through Lucas’s ears.

  “Your first wife was Lady Juliet’s mother?”

  The earl nodded. “Gave her red hair to my only child.” He puffed out some air. “Well, at least she had a big dowry. And I was lucky I found my wife here right under my roof.”

  “You were a friend?” Lucas asked the countess gamely.

  “Oh, no.” The earl laughed. “She was the housekeeper.”

  “It was quite a scandal,” the countess said.

  “I had to wait until my wife finally died and I could make things official.”

  “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of it,” the countess said to Lucas.

  “I had heard the story,” Lucas admitted. “I-I didn’t know that was you.”

  The earl beamed. “See? You’re in a famous house. Fancy bluebells and a huge romance.”

  Lucas smiled politely, but his mind was on Lady Juliet. He hoped the earl and countess limited their casual dismissal of Lady Juliet’s mother in Lady Juliet’s presence. What must it have been like to grow up in a house where everyone knew her father was unfaithful...to the housekeeper? What must it have been like for Lady Juliet’s mother? Had distress caused her premature passing? Lucas hardly thought the fact couldn’t have wounded her.

  Lucas chewed his meat and thought of Lady Juliet.

  He turned to the earl and countess. “I am afraid I must cut my visit here short.”

  “Oh?” the earl frowned. “But are there not more bluebells to study?”

  “It seems they were not as unique as I had anticipated,” Lucas said.

  “Oh. Think of that.” The earl’s shoulders slumped. “Normal bluebells.”

  “Though those are still very nice,” Lucas rushed to add.

  The earl nodded, unconvinced.

  “So, I should go now,” Lucas said.

  The earl’s eyes goggled. “You won’t stay for dessert? We’re having spotted dick!”

  “I’m sorry.” Lucas rose and left the dining room, his mind focused only on Lady Juliet.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LUCAS HAD HALF-EXPECTED to see Lady Juliet on his way to his cottage. After all, her cousin’s manor house was near the cottage he was renting. Unfortunately, Lucas didn’t overtake any carriage on the road. His horses moved languidly after darkness descended, and when Lucas spotted the golden glow of an open tavern, he directed his horses toward the building.

  Perhaps there were few advantages in arriving late at night at his cottage. He wouldn’t want his butler and other servants to increase any suspicions they might have, especially since Lucas’s guest had acquired an injured arm.

  Lucas entered the gray-stone public house and inhaled the scents of clashing ales. Discordant laughter welled through the room, and Lucas strode toward the publican.

  His eyes adjusted to the dim light clinging to the tallow candles. Flames moved lethargically in the fireplace, having settled into a steady glow. The other members of the public house had solved any frigidity they may have felt by imbibing large tankards of ale. Some men sang a coarse sailor’s song that might cause butterflies to abandon their flowers with horror.

  A thin man entered the room from the guest bedrooms. The man’s face was devoid of stubble, despite the late hour. Something about the man drew his attention: nervousness. Lucas took another sip and observed him.

  Lucas had never viewed public houses as intimidating places. They all seemed similar, even if the quality of food and entertainment sat on a distinct spectrum. He’d visited worse establishments than this. Nervousness was not an emotion Lucas felt

  Lucas took another sip of his ale. The young man waited at the counter, even though plenty of seats dotted the public house. Something about how the man stood seemed familiar. Lucas was not prone to staring, but he was uncomfortably aware he was doing so now.

  No doubt, Lucas was bored. It was a natural occurrence after he was no longer dressed as a highwayman or investigating women with a propensity for wandering into male suites.

  This man was dressed plainly. Lucas had a blazer that appeared similar to this man’s blazer. Indeed, he owned a pair of similar buckskin breeches, though his were tighter.

  Lucas frowned.

  And stared.

>   And stared.

  And—blast it, those were his clothes. Lucas leaped from his seat, clutching his tankard.

  The man must have sensed his presence, for he yelped and hurried outside.

  Was this one of his servants at the cottage? But that didn’t make sense. Besides, he’d thought he’d seen that tailcoat at the earl’s manor house. Had one of the earl’s servants taken it? Lady Juliet had been in his room... had she given some of his garments away?

  The thought was ridiculous. Lucas frowned and followed the strange, slim man through the door.

  The door slammed behind Lucas, and the strange man leaped. Some hair fell from the man’s cap.

  Though some men wore their hair in queues, perhaps appreciating the practicality of not cutting their hair, fewer men put their hair in queues, then tucked their hair in their caps.

  “Halt!” Lucas shouted. “Do I know you?”

  The man didn’t turn around. The stranger hurried into the inky night, away from the faint glow of light emanating from the public house.

  Lucas strode more quickly. “Sir! Forgive me, something about you seems familiar.”

  The man turned briefly, then leaped and hurried forward.

  Lucas paused. He wasn’t in the habit of frightening people. Most people said the only thing frightening about him was his clothes, though clearly, this man shouldn’t find them disconcerting.

  Perhaps Lucas had had things wrong. Perhaps this man knew Lucas was investigating the criminals in the region. Perhaps he had valuable information he could give Lucas.

  Lucas did not lessen the speed of his steps, and he soon caught up with the man.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Lucas said.

  The man drew in his breath. Evidently, his listening skills were imperfect.

  “Is something wrong?” Lucas asked. “Perhaps I can help.”

  The slender man shook his head. Perhaps this stranger didn’t think he possessed the muscular force to fight and displayed a preference for fleeing. Well, Lucas wasn’t the only person who would consider this person suspicious if he continued to behave in such a manner.

  Then he observed the man. Closely.

  He’d been wrong. Flames set fire to his skin.

  The person before him wasn’t a man. The person was distinctly, very deliciously a woman. Men didn’t have soft bosoms, and men didn’t smell like roses. He’d never had the urge to kiss the space behind a man’s ear, and he’d never had the urge to draw them close to him.

  But all those thoughts rushed through Lucas now.

  He stepped back, and his Hessians grounded against the gravel. The sound filled the night.

  JULIET INHALED. HER heart beat uncomfortably, and she slumped, lest her heart draw attention to the curve of her breast.

  The Duke of Ainsworth was standing before her. He hadn’t recognized her yet. But he would.

  “You’re a woman,” the duke said dumbly.

  The accusation roared in Juliet’s ears.

  “Nonsense,” she blurted, keeping her voice deep.

  The duke didn’t step away.

  He didn’t blush, and then, depending on his degree of politeness, perhaps stammer an apology.

  Instead, he narrowed the distance between them. His eyes surveyed Juliet, and her chest tightened. They might be outside, but his masculine scent still wafted over her. She was conscious of the power in his frame, and she fought the odd urge to stare at his face, which, even though dimmed by the lack of light, remained chiseled and handsome.

  She’d never despised someone more in all her life.

  “That’s my tailcoat,” the Duke of Ainsworth said.

  Fiddle-faddle.

  Juliet stepped away, but it was too late, and the duke clasped hold of her wrist.

  “Lady Juliet,” the duke said with a faint laugh. “We meet again.”

  “I don’t know who you’re speaking about,” Juliet said, forcing her voice to remain low, forcing herself to not lose hope she could escape this dreadful mess. “I’m not a lady.”

  “No,” the duke said. “Perhaps you’re not.”

  Humiliation shot through her. In the next moment, the duke dragged her toward the public house. A strong hand pressed against her back, and his other hand remained wound about her wrist, as secure as any shackle.

  The world grew lighter, and soon the duke stopped. He surveyed her.

  “Ah, ha. I thought so. You are Lady Juliet.” He glanced down. “And those are my clothes. Is that why you sneaked into my room? To take them?”

  She froze.

  “Is it?” he demanded.

  “Y-Yes.”

  His grip relaxed, and he exhaled.

  She gazed up, uncertain.

  “So, I suppose you weren’t searching my room for other reasons?”

  “Naturally not,” she said, affronted. “I don’t care about your botany research. Why would I?”

  The duke shifted his legs upon the gravel. “I think you’d better tell me what this is about.”

  She was silent.

  “Or I’ll tell your father.”

  She gazed at him sharply. “You wouldn’t.”

  “He would expect it.”

  She looked down. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “It would also be embarrassing if I took you home.”

  Juliet nodded. The man had a point.

  She sighed. “I’m trying to get to Cumberland. To—er—see my cousin Genevieve.”

  “Now, tell me where you’re really going.”

  “I did!”

  “That’s where you told your father you were going. You wouldn’t need to put on a man’s clothes to do that. Tell me the genuine answer.”

  Her shoulders sank, and she felt his eyes on her. Her heartbeat surged, and her knees, which had always seemed sturdy before, buckled.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “I promise.”

  Juliet was silent, conscious of her heart pounding frantically.

  “Is it to see your betrothed?”

  Juliet gazed up at him, startled.

  Finally, she shrugged and gave a harsh laugh. “He didn’t come to my cousin’s ball. It was the first time we were supposed to meet in months. It worried me.”

  “You are concerned for his health?”

  She avoided his eyes. “Indeed.”

  “I’ll accompany you,” the duke said.

  Juliet drew back. “Nonsense.”

  “You can’t gallivant about the countryside by yourself. You could get hurt!”

  “I know the risks.” Juliet raised her chin. “I have evaluated them.”

  “And ignored them?” A warm note sounded in the duke’s throat.

  Fiddle-faddle.

  He thought this amusing. Juliet refused to be diverting, even if this stretch of countryside was rather dull. The road was flat, no doubt a testament to Roman engineering, but it lacked the curves and bends that revealed surprising new glimpses of rural charm and pleasant pulchritude.

  “You can’t go by yourself,” the duke said.

  “On the contrary,” Juliet responded.

  “You must consider your reputation.”

  “I am much more likely to be noticed if I’m seen traveling with you.” Juliet glanced at the only chaise in the carriage park adorned with scarlet-painted wheels and a gilt crest featuring a pair of unicorns.

  The duke’s face paled. “That’s a family vehicle.”

  Juliet shrugged. “I should go.”

  “So, you’re not a criminal,” the duke said slowly.

  Juliet’s eyes widened. “Naturally not.”

  “But why on earth were you sneaking about?”

  “That is none of your concern.”

  The duke’s gaze dropped to Lady Juliet’s tailcoat. “It’s not not my concern.”

  “Fine,” she bristled. “But strolling through one’s own home and borrowing some items of clothing which you shouldn’t miss should hardly make one a suspect.”

  “But taking c
arriage rides near the place where criminal activity is planned might be suspicious.”

  Surprise shot through Juliet, and she glanced up. The duke averted his gaze, as if he’d said too much.

  Was he aware of the highwaymen’s activity?

  She tilted her head. “Were you..?”

  Juliet paused. Obviously, she would not accuse a duke of being a highwayman.

  The duke was quieter, and when she said she would leave, he did not protest.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LADY JULIET MADE A terrible man. But she made quite a wonderful woman.

  The proper thing would be to return inside. Lucas could have a glass of brandy, then snuggle into a warm bed.

  He’d offered to assist her, and she’d declined. The conversation had been proper, even if she’d been dressed unconventionally. But then, Lady Juliet was the daughter of an earl.

  She shouldn’t be attempting to reach the duke’s estate on her own. He didn’t care she was in disguise. It didn’t even matter that other people might not discover her deception. If highwaymen attacked her chaise, she would be harmed. Ever since the war ended, and former soldiers wandered aimlessly, conscious of their need for money, and less conscious of how to obtain it, the area had grown more dangerous. There weren’t sufficient jobs for everyone, and a few men had decided to use their only skill—fighting, to survive.

  He didn’t want Lady Juliet to befall such a fate.

  It didn’t matter if he hardly knew her. At Jasper’s house party, Lady Juliet had seemed content whiling away her time by herself, and Lucas had been content to spend time with his friends. He didn’t know any of her relatives, and there was no reason for him to feel protective about her.

  And yet...

  If he didn’t follow her... He swallowed hard. She shouldn’t be traveling by herself.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be a dreadful idea to follow her. After all, Lucas was also traveling to Cumberland. He returned to the inn and asked the publican to cancel his room. The groom had unhooked his chaise from his horses, and Lucas hesitated. Still, he could always send a servant for his chaise later. For now, he needed to catch up with her.