Duked: Duke One, Duke Society Series

by Robinson, Gina

"Not to worry." Faye handed me the coffee. "We're very comfortable there. And no ghosts. Must not have been any servant tragedies in the castle's history."

  "No servant wants to be doomed to walk the halls where they served," Julie said to me. "Did you see one of the famous specters last night? Which one?"

  Faye leaned forward and rubbed her hands. "I'm listening. This reminds me of Ghostbusters. It's too bad you don't have one of those ghost vacuums. I would love to see what you saw. I like being scared."

  "Yeah, too bad we don't have any ghosts in the servants' wing," Julie said.

  I sighed. "I didn't see anything, no one and certainly no ghosts."

  "Then why did you sleep with the covers over your head and the light on?" Faye asked.

  "How would you know I slept with the light on?"

  "Gotcha!" Faye looked pleased. "Plus there was a beam of light coming out beneath your door before we heard you jump out of bed."

  "FYI, locking your door is not going to do squat. Ghosts can walk through walls," Julie said. "It's one of the perks of being stuck in a castle for eternity."

  "It wasn't a ghost I was worried about," I said.

  Julie and Faye looked at each other again, but I didn't elaborate.

  "The castle has an alarm system, no?" Faye said. "If someone broke in—"

  "It's fine," I said. "I'll take care of it. Probably just my imagination." I didn't mention the really creepy things—the book and the window.

  "On to other ghosts, ghosts of the past. The castle is abuzz with gossip," Faye said. "We'll fill you in while you eat, if you like."

  I sat on the bed and lifted the lid on my breakfast, glad to see some good old American scrambled eggs, pastries, and fruit. I couldn't stomach a full English. "Entertain me."

  "It's mostly about the nephew and heir, Renton." Faye began arranging her beauty implements.

  "Ren?"

  She nodded. "As gorgeous a man as I've ever laid eyes on. Perfect hair. I'd love to get my hands on it. Or in it." Faye laughed. "Tragically unlucky in love, poor boy."

  "Really?"

  "You haven't heard?" Julie asked. "As well as being tight asses, your upper crust associates must be tight-lipped. Ren was in love with his brother's fiancée, that's what they say."

  "Who's they?" I took a bite of my pastry, ignoring their insults to my class. They were poking fun as usual.

  "The cleaning staff, the chef's staff, the delivery guys, the butcher, everyone from the village who comes in to work here." Faye's eyes danced. "Ren was devastated when she died in a tragic accident with his older brother." She paused. "The thing is, most people don't think it was an accident."

  I raised an eyebrow and dug into my eggs. "Really? Then what was it? Are you saying they were murdered? By who?"

  "Murder? People won't go so far, not to us," Faye said. "Suspicious. They suspect the old duke covered up whatever really happened to save the dukedom. With no heir, and Ren was the only one left, the title would go extinct. And the old duke wouldn't have that." She gave me a pointed look. "As we all know."

  I shrugged.

  "Whatever really happened, the aftermath is known. The duke was furious with Ren." Julie began laying out her tools. She looked over her shoulder at me. "From all accounts, the older brother was the perfect heir, the fair-haired child, literally. Must have been hard living in the shadow of his golden halo."

  "His name was William," Faye added. "Everyone raves about him. Everyone loved him."

  "He loved the castle, too," Julie said. "Which endeared him to his uncle. He loved his uncle. Intelligent. Ambitious. Attentive. William had it all."

  "He even moved to the castle from London so the duke could groom him for the job," Faye added. "The duke's pregnant third duchess had died by then. He'd given up having a son of his own. The duke was nearly ninety. He was grooming the older brother. Training him how to run the estate. And then…"

  "And then?" Even though I'd heard most of the story, I was riveted, eating my breakfast as if it was popcorn.

  "After the brother died, Ren went off the deep end. Refused to come back to the castle since. Until now."

  "That's quite the story," I said between bites. "People really bent your ear."

  "They were eager to," Faye said.

  "And so my wedding has brought the errant heir back to the castle?"

  "To protect his inheritance," Julie said. "By any means possible."

  "It's a real scandal," Faye said. "The common consensus is that he should have stayed away. People are almost as scandalized by his return as by you marrying the old duke."

  "Almost?" I said. "I'm glad I still get the prize."

  Faye frowned. "Watch yourself, Bliss. You don't know who you're dealing with. Ren is dangerous."

  I laughed. "What can Ren do to me now? I have the upper hand. Any devious plan he's concocted has failed." Like seducing me.

  I finished the last bite of my breakfast, surprised at the size of my appetite. Fending off temptation burned more energy than one would think.

  I should have been relieved. The scandal surrounding Ren was better known than I'd imagined and would only make me look like a savior in comparison, scandalous age difference between Manly and me or not.

  I wiped my mouth with my napkin. "I need a shower. Sorry. You ladies will have to work quickly again today. The wedding planner will be here soon."

  The schedule was simple. The ceremony would take place promptly at eleven in the morning. It would be followed by an elaborate wedding brunch, no expense spared. Topped off with a combination wedding and birthday cake and a champagne toast. No dancing. At Manly's age?

  By two in the afternoon, the guests would be leaving with expensive favor gifts in hand. Just in time for my groom's afternoon nap. Later, we'd have a simple, private cold supper left for us by the chef. And so my new life would begin.

  A honeymoon confined to the castle with the majority of the servants given the time off for a week. And then the work began—renovation. I would turn the abandoned east wing into a private apartment in preparation for making this place into a beautiful, profitable destination bed-and-breakfast and event center while still retaining it as our home. I'd worked hard to convince Manly of the need for the castle to support itself.

  My job for today was to look beautiful and elegant. To be an ornament on Manly's arm and appease his vanity. To smile and charm. To say my vows in a clear voice.

  Faye styled my hair in loose waves that fell over my shoulders. Manly wanted me to have the gilded look of princess. Fresh, golden beauty. A blushing bride.

  Julie took his wishes to heart and gilded the girl with every trick in her box. She applied warm radiance cream beneath my foundation and highlighted my cheeks with light pink blush. She shaped my brows, lined my eyes, and applied gold cream eye shadow over the inner corners, brown shadow on the lids and beneath my eyes. She applied rose-gold-hued highlighter to all the pertinent points of light on my face, including the tip of my nose. She finished the look with shiny pink gloss. When she was done, there were no signs of the dark circles beneath my eyes, or my lack of sleep. I looked as fresh as one of Manly's Michaelmas daisies, almost innocent, and definitely gilded.

  Moments after Julie and Faye finished my makeup, the wedding planner arrived to take charge. She brought a seamstress and an assistant from the designer with her in case the dress needed any last-minute alterations. My dress was a simple white couture gown with sheer side panels and a plunging V-neck. Beneath it I would wear a custom corset designed for the dress. It had a matching plunge and sheer sides. The designer's assistant cinched me tightly into the corset. The dress fit like second skin over it, rippling when I walked, touching all the right curves of my body.

  It was Faye's turn to work again. She studded my hair with pearls and diamonds and pinned my veil to the back of my head with a diamond comb. My mother stopped by to approve the final look and then showed the florist in. I was handed the bouquet I'd selected—a collection of fall flowers
, including Michaelmas daisies in a nod to Manly and his birthday.

  Mom made an inspection, asked for a few picky changes, and finally gave her approval. "Very nice. You look lovely, Bliss." She actually got a tear in her eye again. "Just as perfect as I imagined you'd look on your wedding day." She leaned in and whispered, "I heard from his butler that the duke received your present this morning. A little lewd, wasn't it?"

  "He's my groom, Mom." I looked at myself in the mirror. If only I could make my smile reach my eyes. "Better he licks frosting off me than a stripper."

  Better still he licked frosting off an image of me.

  I'd had a small chocolate birthday cake sent to Manly's room before the ceremony. With a 3-D printed doll of me in my bridal lingerie baked in as if popping out of the cake as a surprise.

  Manly would get it. Or at least I'd thought he would when I ordered it. After yesterday's profession of love? I comforted myself that he'd still understand and appreciate it. It was all part of the illusion. All playing to his vanity. We'd agreed to a sexless marriage, but he didn't have to be humiliated by others knowing. Out of respect, I maintained the façade of an eager bride.

  Next, the photographer arrived to take pictures of me, me with my parents, and my side of the bridal party. I had insisted on following wedding tradition. Manly wouldn't see me until the ceremony. Pictures of us together would have to wait until after the ceremony. Fortunately, the weather had cleared.

  My entourage with me, we took pictures in the garden. I couldn't help glancing up at my window, hoping I wouldn't see a ghost. And maybe hoping I would see Ren. Was his room on this side of the castle? I didn't know.

  My darling little bridesmaids were so completely adorable, all wearing the matching diamond pendant necklaces I'd given them as a thank-you gift. They looked like tiny princesses in their white dresses. Little princesses with naturally pink cheeks and genuine smiles. Their excitement and sense of wonder lifted my spirits. With them, I could really smile. Taking pictures with them was the most fun I had all morning.

  Finally, it was time. The wedding planner positioned me at the top of the stairs leading into the grand salon. My bridesmaids in front of me, I took my father's arm.

  He patted my hand. "You can still back out, Bliss." He was serious. "You don't have to do this for your mother's sake. Fuck her. I'll help my princess escape myself." He nodded toward a suit of armor on the landing. "There's a sword I can steal. We can fend them off, Bliss, you and me. We can take them."

  I took a deep breath. If only he was joking. "I'm fine, Dad."

  He sighed heavily, resigned to handing his princess off to an old man. As the sounds of harp music floated up to us—Manly had insisted on a harpist—the wedding planner sent my bridesmaids down the stairs. I watched their faces turn serious as they undertook their task and descended the stairs, their full skirts giving them the impression of dandelions floating on the breeze.

  Suddenly, the string quartet joined in, playing the wedding processional. Dad patted my hand again. I began my descent toward marriage.

  As the grand salon came into view, a sea of upturned faces watched me. Hats, so many gorgeous and monstrous and silly hats. Mom's most of all.

  The salon itself was more beautiful than I could have imagined. Everything polished to a sparkle. Fall floral arrangements everywhere. Rows of folding chairs decorated with ribbons for the guests, all facing the staircase and me. Sunlight from the fine fall day streamed in through the tall windows with their ancient glass.

  Manly and his two old buddies, the dukes of Axton and Hardison, stood at the bottom of the stairs beneath the portrait of the young Manly.

  Long ago, when I was little and afraid of being in front of an audience, the media coach Mom had hired for me told me to focus on something in the audience or room. It could be anything. Anything that gave me balance. As I came down the stairs, I latched on to the portrait of the young Manly. I held on to looking at it with everything I had. Manly stood beneath it, and though I gave the appearance of looking at him, I was staring at that portrait. He was the man I was marrying. The younger version. Solid and steady and handsome.

  There was a moment, just a moment, when my morbid curiosity got the best of me. Was Ren in the audience? He had to be in the audience. He had to be. I had to see. My gaze swept the rows of folding chairs, past Mom in her ridiculous hat, to the groom's side.

  Ren sat in the front row, in the family "pew," looking as if he hadn't missed a wink of sleep. For a moment, I was taken aback anew by his sheer physical beauty and presence. By the pull between us that felt like it was tearing my heart in two. His dark blue, snapping eyes bored into me. His nearly black hair shone in the sunlight. The arrogant set of his features made him look haughty, like a proud medieval duke. He was arresting. Riveting. And somehow, despite his outward calm, his eyes were angry. Ren was young and vital, and I wanted him. But he wasn't mine.

  I'd stared at Ren too long. The crowd held its breath. Did they expect me to bolt at the last minute? Did they imagine that if I did, Dad would be right there beside me swinging a sword from an ancient suit of armor? I found Manly's face and smiled as beautifully as I knew how at him.

  I took one step and another. And another, trying not to favor my turned ankle. Forcing myself forward. Trying not to free-fall. One step at a time.

  The closer I got, the more nervous and paler Manly looked. Sweat was beading on his forehead. Before I could register what was wrong, he gasped and clutched his chest. His knees buckled. Hardly tried to catch him, but was too slow and too weak. Manly fell to his knees.

  My scream pierced the air.

  Still clutching his chest, Manly toppled over. No. No. So close. So close. He couldn't die.

  Ren was on his feet in a second, so fast his chair banged over behind him.

  "Help. Help! We need help!" Hardly yelled as I tried to break free of Dad's grasp.

  A sea of phones emerged from pockets and purses. Ren reached Manly first and knelt beside him. He pulled at Manly's tie and loosened his shirt. "Give him space. He needs air. Doctor? Do we have a doctor in the house?"

  I finally broke free of Dad, lifted my skirt, and ran to Manly, my heels clicking on the tile floor. I knelt beside Ren and stared into Manly's eyes.

  He tried to speak. Nothing came out. He reached his hand out. I reached for it, but he reached for Hardly instead, trying to pull him close.

  Manly was trying desperately to convey something to Hardly. Hanby? Ann B? He was saying something.

  Axe, who had finally managed to kneel next to him, leaned in closer and cocked an ear. "What?"

  Manly's words were coming out garbled now, but Axe seemed to understand what he was saying and nodded.

  I sat on the floor at Manly's head and brushed past Ren to cradle Manly's head in my lap, stroking his thin gray hair. "Hang on. Hang on, Manly. Here's the doctor now."

  A man pushed his way into the group.

  Manly looked into my eyes. "I—"

  His head relaxed. The life left his eyes.

  The doctor took Manly's pulse and turned to me with sympathetic eyes. "I'm terribly sorry. He's gone."

  Chapter 7

  "No!" My wail of despair echoed through the stunned crowd and off the stone walls of the castle. I could almost hear the white lady laughing in the dark recesses of the second-floor corridor. "Manly." I covered my eyes, bereft. Everything we'd both wanted gone. Manly's legacy dead along with him. My head fell into my hands. I shook with sobs and shock.

  Outside, the scream of arriving ambulances grew closer. Out of nowhere, strong, square hands grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet.

  Ren caught me beneath the knees and scooped me into his strong arms. "Out of my way. I'm getting her out of here."

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my wet face in his neck as my tears continued to fall, aware of only him. Grateful. Afraid.

  As he strode down the hall, taking me to who knew where, I felt every footstep. Heard ever
y footfall echo. With my face burrowed into him, I couldn't see his face. But when my parents tried to follow, he brushed them away, and, miraculously, they backed off.

  Finally, he stopped and kicked open a door. He closed it behind us with his foot and carried me to a sofa. He sat, keeping me close on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

  "You're icy cold." Somehow, he managed to shrug out of his suit jacket and wrap it around me.

  I grabbed a handful of his freshly pressed shirt, hanging on to it as if for life.

  Ren pressed my head against his shoulder. "It's all right. Cry. Cry it all out. Cry as long as you want. I'll scare away anyone who tries to interrupt you." His voice was gentle and sweet and fierce at the same time, his reassurances a breath against my now disheveled hair.

  The sirens came to a stop outside.

  I was unaware of time as I cowered in Ren's arms, listening to his reassuring utterances.

  "This seems like the end of the world right now." He stroked my hair. "I assure you, it's not. You'll get past this."

  I might have imagined it, but I swore I felt his lips on my hair.

  When I'd finally cried myself out and had broken into dry sobs, someone knocked on the door.

  Harris, Manly's butler, poked his head in. "Sorry to disturb you, duke."

  Duke. The title caught us both off guard. I felt Ren stiffen.

  "The coroner is here and the police need the next of kin."

  I lifted my head and wiped the tears from my cheeks, ready to go speak with them.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am," Harris said. "The duke is still the late duke's nearest relative."

  Ren muttered some prize curses.

  I nodded. "Go."

  He gently slid me off his lap onto the slick leather of the sofa. "Stay here. Compose yourself. I'll be back as soon as I'm finished out there." He turned to the butler. "Harris, get Miss Harper something to drink, however stiff she wants it."

  "Certainly, your grace."

  Ren paused at the door. I looked up just in time to meet his eye. Why did he look so apologetic? He turned and walked out.