To Defy a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 1

by Wendy Soliman

  Eli suddenly realised he hadn’t yet received a response from Jessop regarding the enquiries he had asked him to make in Nottingham.

  ‘What the devil is the hold up?’ he asked aloud, tugging the bell so hard that the cord creaked.

  Jessop responded immediately and stood respectfully in front of Eli’s desk. ‘Your grace rang.’

  ‘What news from Nottingham?’

  ‘Nothing as yet, your grace. I have sent one of our best men to make enquiries and anticipate hearing from him at any time.’

  Hmm, nothing obvious then, otherwise Jessop’s man would have heard of it right away and sent word by express. Even so, the delay angered Eli. Just about everything angered him at the moment. But it wasn’t Jessop’s fault, and it would be unfair to take his unsettled mood out on his secretary.

  ‘All right, Jessop. Let me know the moment you hear anything.’

  The dressing gong sounded, and Eli could hide away no longer. He made his way to his chambers, saying nothing to Salter as he helped Eli to dress. He tied his own neckcloth in a flamboyant waterfall, straightened his embroidered waistcoat, and turned towards the door. Tonight he would be without his bandage for the first time. His wound was healing well, but there was still a large and colourful bruise on the side of his face, partially covered by his hair.

  ‘Good luck, your grace,’ Salter said, a tinge of sympathy in his tone.

  ‘Thank you, Salter,’ Eli replied, grimacing. ‘I shall most certainly need it.’

  The drawing room was full of beautifully attired people, speaking in low, elegant voices, laughter occasionally ringing out as battle lines were drawn between the ambitious mothers and their offspring. Eli managed a brief smile when he noticed his friend Johnson and Susan in close conversation. His baby sister had wasted no time in staking her claim.

  Eli’s presence was noticed. Conversation gradually subsided as all heads turned in his direction. So it begins, he thought, striding into the room, greeting acquaintances as he went. There was no one present whom he did not know, and he could tell immediately from the calculating glances in their mothers’ eyes which ladies were on his own mother’s list of desirable partis.

  ‘Your grace.’

  Lady Denton stepped into his path and dropped into a graceful curtsey, winning the race to be the first ambitious mother to do so. Her daughter Caroline followed suit, and Eli greeted them with every appearance of civility. Caroline Denton was a pretty blonde, large of bone, wide in the hips. Child-bearing hips his mother would approve of, he thought absently. He tried to imagine making children with Lady Caroline and singularly failed.

  ‘Lady Denton, Lady Caroline. Welcome to Winsdale Park. I hope you’ve been made comfortable.’

  ‘Perfectly so, I thank you, your grace.’

  ‘It is a very pretty estate, what I’ve seen of it,’ Lady Caroline said. ‘I would enjoy a more extensive tour.’

  Damned impudence! ‘I dare say a tour is on my mother’s list of entertainments.’

  Eli moved on, thinking at least Lady Caroline spoke without simpering and didn’t gush. He was grateful for small mercies. Next to accost him was Lady Evans and her daughter the honourable Emily. Oh no, mother. Surely not? Emily couldn’t be described as pretty, not even by her most ardent admirer. She had small eyes, a long jaw, and there was something not quite right about her nose. Eli knew nothing to her detriment, but if he had to marry a stranger, at least let her be pleasing to the eye.

  ‘It looks as though your party will be blessed with fine weather, your grace,’ Lady Evans remarked.

  ‘Oh no, Mama,’ Emily contradicted. ‘It’s harvest time, and it always rains on the harvest, does it not, your grace?’

  Eli retained his composure only by dint of the stringent training he had gone through since the cradle. Did Emily but know it, she had just ruined any minute chance she might otherwise have had of becoming his duchess by reminding Eli of the harvest. Harvest made him think of the dance, the dance made him think of Athena, and the urge to flee this circus and join her in the relative peace of Whispers’ Hollow had never been greater.

  Lady Louisa Broughton was exquisite to look at, but couldn’t string a single intelligible sentence together. Worse, she giggled each time Eli addressed a word to her. Give me strength!

  Charlotte’s friend Lady Cynthia Parsons had possibilities. Pleasant, intelligent, and seemingly as disinterested in the proceedings as he was, she was the lady to whom he proffered his arm when dinner was announced. Eli sensed annoyance in the other ambitious mothers as Eli and Lady Cynthia made their way to table. His dinner partner accepted his company with composure and answered any questions he addressed to her with intelligence and, mercifully, lack of giggling. There was nothing spontaneous about her, though, nothing to hold his interest for long. She and Lady Caroline were very much the best of a mediocre but oh-so-suitable bunch.

  Eli smothered a sigh. It was going to be a very long, very trying, week.

  Chapter Twelve

  Athena sat with her sisters, fingers moving deftly back and forth across the lace she was making, while she re-told the girls the story of King Lear.

  ‘It hardly seems fair of the king to dispose of his estate based on the level of flattery he received from his daughters,’ Selene said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Well, he was mad,’ Lyssa pointed out. ‘So I don’t suppose we ought to judge him too harshly.’

  ‘I don’t think the king could have been an agreeable person.’

  ‘I agree, Selene. It’s very mean to set one sister against another.’

  ‘Imagine if anyone tried to do that to the three of us.’

  Athena listened to the seamless conversation flowing between her sisters, a nervous smile playing about her lips. Even their opinion of mad King Lear couldn’t keep her thoughts away from the afternoon to come. It was the day of the harvest festival party, and she would see Eli surrounded by his bevy of would-be duchesses. How was she supposed to endure that agony without giving herself away? She glanced at the girls, so excited at the prospect of seeing the Park and chided herself for her selfishness. She would get through it. Somehow. The place would be crowded, no one would notice her, which was just the way she wanted it.

  Millie was to come, too. There had been much argument about that. Millie declared she had no time to waste with parties, but Athena stood firm. Millie deserved a respite from their daily routine as much as the rest of them. Probably more. She managed to convince her by pointing out that the girls needed to be watched, and Athena couldn’t be everywhere at once. It did the trick, and only Boris would remain behind at the cottage.

  ‘It’s time to get ready,’ Athena said, putting her work aside.

  Lyssa grinned. ‘At last we get to see you wearing your lovely gown, Athena.’

  Athena hadn’t wanted to accept the beautiful muslin dress from Lady Susan, even though she insisted she no longer wore it because the colour was wrong for her. But Lady Susan’s argument that the colour was exactly right for Athena was irrefutable. It was a bright burnished copper almost exactly the same shade as her hair. A little too short, she and the girls had made a pretty lace flounce in cream, worked through with gold thread, and stitched it to the hem. Similar lace now also adorned the sleeves, finishing halfway down Athena’s forearms. She had a shawl in exactly the same colours, which she draped across her arms, deciding she might as well use the opportunity to show off their handiwork and generate more business.

  Athena didn’t bother to put her hair up. It would only escape again—it always did. Instead, she tied it back with a ribbon to match her shawl, but tendrils broke free and framed her face. Sighing, she squashed a straw bonnet on top of her unruly locks. It was trimmed, not with the usual decorations but, of course, more lace.

  ‘You look a picture,’ Millie said, wiping a tear from her eye when she saw Athena dressed and ready. ‘Your Mama would have been that proud.’

  ‘Shush now, Millie, enough of that. If I must attend thi
s party then I intend to enjoy myself. Don’t mention anything to make me sad.’

  ‘That I won’t, lamb.’

  ‘Are the girls ready?’

  ‘Yes, we are.’

  For once, they weren’t dressed alike.

  ‘We’re tired of no one being able to tell us apart,’ Selene said by way of explanation.

  Athena didn’t have the heart to point out that would still be the case. Lyssa wore a pretty cream gown, Selene’s was pink, but unless they wore their names around their necks, that wouldn’t help their cause much. As in Athena’s case, it had been necessary to trim the hems of their gowns with lace since the girls had grown since making the garments for themselves over a year previously. Lyssa had followed Athena’s example and simply tied her hair back. She hadn’t bothered with a bonnet and her locks tumbled and rippled down her back like liquid gold. Selene’s hair was piled tidily on top of her head and she, too, wore a straw bonnet trimmed with lace.

  ‘Well, Boris,’ Athena said, giving him the chop bone she had saved as compensation for being left alone. ‘Guard the place for us. We shall see you later.’

  Boris’s tail flapped, and he looked momentarily forlorn to be left. Then he remembered the bone and was already crushing it into submission in his powerful jaws as they left the cottage.

  The four of them clambered into the cart, to which Meg was already harnessed. As Athena drove the now familiar route to Winsdale Park, she was suddenly glad they had decided to come. The twins’ excitement was infectious and, regardless of the risks involved, Athena found herself looking forward to the afternoon, even if she would have to endure the agony of seeing Eli in all his ducal splendour. Perhaps this visual reminder of the chasm that separated them would bring her to her senses. After today she would stop wasting time thinking about him, which would be a good thing.

  Of course, it would.

  The cart joined a long line of similar vehicles making slow progress up the long driveway to Winsdale Park. People called cheerfully to one another, and an atmosphere of great good humour prevailed. Everyone, it seemed, was in the mood for a party. The girls’ eyes were round with excitement, and they seemed to be looking everywhere at once, asking endless questions. Athena answered them absently, concentrating on keeping Meg in line behind the cart in front of them.

  When they finally reached the stable yard, the groom recognised Athena and treated her with great respect. She gave Meg and the cart over to him with a nod of thanks and jumped down to join her sisters and Millie.

  ‘There is so much to see,’ Lyssa said.

  ‘Jugglers and fire-eaters,’ Selene added, pointing to a spot in front of the terrace where trestle tables were set up for the tenants’ luncheon.

  ‘And games, by the looks of things.’

  ‘Where is the barn you decorated, Athena?’

  ‘Can we meet Lady Susan?’

  ‘I should like something to eat.’

  Athena laughed. ‘When are you two not hungry? Come, we must find a place at the tables. We eat first, and then the fun begins.’

  There were two rows of tables. Athena found a spot for them all at the far end of the back row, where they were least likely to attract attention. There must have been about eighty people jockeying for position around them, a lot of the men looking uncomfortable in their Sunday best, while the women seemed to enjoy shedding their everyday clothes in favour of something a little finer. Athena glanced up at the terrace. A long table was covered with a snowy white cloth and there was a dazzling array of crystal glasses. About thirty people were converged there, talking amongst themselves, looking out at the sea of people gathered on the lawns with varying degrees of uncertainty.

  She saw him at once, and her breath caught in her throat. She was struck, as always, by his sheer vitality and animal magnetism. Even from a distance, he cut a commanding figure in a beautiful blue coat and creamy waistcoat, a thousand times removed from his appearance when they had first met under such unconventional circumstances. Athena counted four elegant young ladies buzzing around Eli like flies, which is when it finally struck her just how ridiculous she was actually being. She had told herself as much on an hourly basis since meeting the duke.

  The time had come to accept it.

  ‘Oh look,’ Selene said, pointing. ‘There’s the duke. Doesn’t he look regal?’

  ‘Imagine him sleeping in Millie’s bed,’ Lyssa added, giggling.

  That was precisely what Athena didn’t wish to imagine.

  As though sensing her presence, Eli broke away from the conversation he was conducting with one of the ladies and looked out over the lawns. His gaze roved slowly along the lines of people. It stopped when it reached her position.

  And didn’t move on.

  Eli had been summoned to his mother’s sitting room before the festivities got under way. He stood with his back to the fire, watching the crowd growing steadily bigger on the lawns below. He knew what his mother wanted to speak to him about, but resented the need to answer her. Wasn’t it enough he had agreed to this charade? He would tell her of his decision when he had reached one. Until that time came, there was nothing to be said. Could it be she sensed the changes in him since he had met Athena and felt the need to remind him of his duty?

  Duty? Eli hated the sound of the damned word.

  ‘I think we might actually avoid being rained on this year,’ he said, absently glancing up at the sky, trying to tell himself he wasn’t watching for Athena’s cart. It would be impossible to spot it amongst a collection of so many similar vehicles, but he looked anyway.

  ‘I didn’t call you here to discuss the weather,’ his mother replied crisply.

  ‘Yes, I am aware.’

  ‘Then do me the goodness of giving me your attention, and tell me if you have yet reached a decision.’

  ‘The Evans girl is out of the question.’

  His mother’s lips twitched. ‘Yes, I thought she probably would be.’

  ‘So, too, is Lady Louisa.’ Eli sighed. ‘All that stupidity and giggling. Whatever made you imagine she would suit?’

  ‘She has the right pedigree.’

  Eli’s lips quirked. ‘You make her sound like a dog.’

  ‘Yes well, that leaves Lady Caroline and Lady Cynthia.’

  ‘So it does.’

  ‘Do try to show a little more enthusiasm, Eli.’

  Believe me, Mother, this is enthusiasm.’

  ‘Oh, Eli, my dear, do you think I enjoy doing this to you? I have waited so long for you to make a decision without any coercion from me. I just want you to be happy, but—’

  ‘I know. Don’t distress yourself. My life is not my own. I have responsibilities.’

  ‘Precisely. Your father didn’t love me when we married, nor was I foolish enough to imagine he did, but we became fond of one another over the years, and reached an understanding that suited us both.’

  Ah, so his mother was reminding him marriage wouldn’t necessarily bring an end to his personal pleasures. But it would, because he had fallen deeply and passionately in love with a woman he could never marry, and it was slowly tearing him apart.

  ‘I thought you understood what was expected of you, Eli.’

  ‘How could I not?’ he replied, a trace of bitterness underlying his words.

  ‘What is it, my dear? Surely you’re not balking because you think romance ought to play a part in your decision?’ Her laugh was bitter. ‘I thought you had more sense than that. When it comes to choosing a wife, there’s no room for emotion for a man of your stature. You and your future bride must both understand the importance of maintaining the exclusive lineage of the duchy, and she can only properly do so if she comes from a similar background to your own.’

  ‘I dare say.’

  ‘Love complicates everything, Eli,’ she added briskly. ‘Besides, it doesn’t last. Flick through the pages of any history book if you doubt my word. See what quivering wrecks powerful men have become in the name of love, and how compr
ehensively they have come to regret their foolishness.’ She shook her head. ‘No, my dear, take it from one who knows and think with your brain, not your emotions.’

  ‘We ought to go down,’ Eli said, wishing to curtail this excruciating conversation. ‘It’s time.’

  ‘Very well, but I will have your decision by the end of the week?’

  Eli firmed his jaw. ‘I have already said you will.’

  His quelling tone prohibited further discussion on the point and they descended the stairs in taut silence.

  Their guests were assembled on the terrace, the tenants on the lawn. The two parties would only intermingle after luncheon.

  ‘Oh, your grace, such a crowd,’ Lady Caroline said, fluttering her lashes at him. ‘I had no idea so many people would be here.’

  ‘It’s the highlight of our year,’ Eli replied drolly.

  ‘I didn’t mean to imply it isn’t the greatest fun imaginable. It is so very generous of you to open your grounds to all these people.’

  Eli wanted to point out the grounds would be a shambles, and there would be no harvest, were it not for these people. In the end, he decided to save his breath.

  ‘Quite so,’ he replied.

  Lady Cynthia appeared on his opposite side. Her initial reticence had given way to a quiet determination, no doubt the result of her mother’s lecturing, or his own sister’s encouragement.

  ‘No rain after all,’ she said.

  ‘It would seem not.’

  She was here. Eli was convinced he could sense her presence. That was ridiculous, given the throng collected on the lawns beneath him, settling themselves at the tables amidst a loud cacophony of cheerful good humour. Lady Cynthia said something else to him. He gave every impression of being enthralled by her fascinating insight, but didn’t have a clue what it was she had actually said. Instead, he scanned the crowd with his eyes until he found her, right at the back, at the far end, the twins to one side of her, Millie to the other. It was as though she was trying to fade into the background. Eli suppressed a snort. As if she ever could!