There Are Plenty More Dukes in the Sea (The Inheritance Clause Book 1)

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There Are Plenty More Dukes in the Sea (The Inheritance Clause Book 1) Page 8

by Samantha Holt


  A creak behind her made her stiff. Her heart jolted upward, and her mouth dried. She breathed very carefully. Who was in here with her and why were they creeping around? She waited until footsteps made her whirl around, book in hand. The figure was close. She brought the book down hard on the intruder’s head before recoiling.

  “Oh Lord no!”

  “Bloody hell.”

  She hardly had time to register the coarse oath. The ladder wobbled beneath her, and she flung her arms wide to cling at something. But her awkward angle and the delicate nature of the ladder worked against her, sending her sideways.

  Strong, thick arms caught her mid-flight. The air expelled from her lungs in one puff. Eyes closed tightly shut, she absorbed the feel of that body pressed hard against hers, cradling her as though she weighed no more than a cloud.

  Slowly, she peeled open an eye. She stared at Reuben through the one eye then finally opened the other.

  “Forgive me,” she said, grimacing.

  “You hit quite hard for a lady.”

  “Um…” She was tempted to tell him that she had met quite a few ladies who could hit harder than she, but now did not seem the right time. Not after she had just beaten him with a book and had been saved from a broken bone by him.

  “I think you can put me down now,” she managed to whisper.

  He jolted slightly as though he had forgotten he cradled her in his arms like some sort of prince rescuing the princess. “Of course.” Reuben eased her to the ground. “Are you well?”

  She straightened her robe about her and nodded. “I think I should be asking you that.”

  He rubbed the spot on the top of his head where she had struck him. “I’ll survive.”

  “I should take a look.” Before he said anything else, she took his hand and led him over to the chair.

  Lifting one of the candles, she sifted through his hair. Hair that was ridiculously soft for a man and made her want to run her fingers through it all day long. She forced her attention back on the practicality of the moment. She needed to check he was uninjured.

  “Ouch.” She heard the air hiss through his teeth when she prodded a bump on his head.

  “I am sorry, but it is just a bump. Nothing worse.” She lowered the candle and finally took in his appearance. A jacket hung loosely over an open-collared shirt. His breeches were worn without stockings. Angel tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Why are you awake?” she asked, aware of the strangled quality of her voice.

  He gave a tilted smile. “I have many things to worry about.”

  Angel snatched the matching stool and perched on it. As much as he made her feel all tremulous inside, she wanted to know more. Why did this man worry? Why had he thought the worst of her? What drove him to stay with his aunt when he lived not far away?

  “What sort of things? I know your work keeps you busy, but surely you are used to it?”

  Reuben lifted a shoulder. “Work, my estate, Aunt Jean.” His gaze fell to her lips then up again. He had left something unsaid, but she could not figure out what. “Something on your mind too?”

  She nodded. “My family mostly.” And you.

  “Your siblings are all older than you and surely capable people. What could be worrying you about them?”

  Regret itched her stomach. If only she could tell him all, but the rules of the will said she could not tell anyone outside of their family. If it was found out she had revealed all, the money would be forfeit. She could not take that chance.

  “Theo—the marquis—he takes on a lot. He tries to look after us all. And his late-wife…well, she hurt him quite badly. Not to mention left him with a mountain of debts.”

  “I see.”

  “Minerva is as shy as anything and would stay at home for the rest of her life if she was allowed to. As for Seth…” She smiled. “Well, I am certain you are aware of his reputation.”

  “I am.”

  “So there you see? I have plenty to worry about.”

  Reuben nodded. “I understand worrying for family members all too well.”

  “Yes, you are always taking care of your aunt.”

  He sighed. “My mother takes more care than Aunt Jean, believe it or not. I do not see much of her now as my parents spend a lot of time in Bath, but she wreaks havoc when she can.”

  Angel peered at him. “So you have spent a lot of time looking after people? What of your sisters? Do you have to take care of them?”

  “I do not have to much now they are all married, but there were many years when I had to escort them everywhere.” He chuckled. “I do not much miss those years.”

  “I think I have not taken enough time to care for my siblings,” she murmured. “I will try to rectify that.”

  He leaned forward and put a finger to her chin, tilting it so she could not look away. “Sometimes, people have to look after themselves. I have had to learn that about my mother. Hopefully they will learn.”

  She still felt the touch of his finger on her face even after it was gone. “But your mother never learned?”

  He shook his head with a dry smile. “She’s a rather manipulative character. Caused my father a lot of problems when I was growing up. It meant life was rarely normal. If we did not have lovelorn men on our doorstep, we had weeping women begging her to stay away from their husbands.”

  Drawing in a breath, Angel put a hand briefly to his. “She had affairs?”

  “Interestingly, no. She was just rather adept at flirting.” He lifted a shoulder. “I think she enjoyed having that power over people.”

  Angel opened her mouth then closed it. Now she understood why he had taken such a disliking to her in the beginning. He had thought her like his mother. How did one explain that she had no intention of manipulating people or breaking hearts? Her only interest had been fun. And, well, she supposed making the duke jealous.

  Perhaps she really did manipulate. Even if she had not been aware of it. She stared at her hands. No wonder he had thought badly of her.

  “What is it?” he asked softly.

  She lifted her head. “I know you do not approve of me.”

  “Ah.” He shifted forward in the chair and pushed a curl of hair back from her face. “I will admit I had my doubts about you. I am not proud of the fact I made an instant judgement based on very little.”

  “So you do not think me like that? Like your mother?” She held her breath. It should not matter so much what he thought, and yet it did. It mattered more than anything in the world. So much so that she could feel tears burning the corners of her eyes.

  “I do not.” His fingers lingered on her face.

  Air released from her lungs. Reuben dropped his fingers from her face and curled them around her arms, drawing her into the cradle of his legs. Her breaths felt hot, her limbs weak. She stared up at him and admired the way the candlelight danced over his strong, beautiful features.

  All she wanted was a kiss. Was that too much to ask? One kiss from this honorable, intriguing, caring man.

  She did not know whether he had heard her silent plea nor did she care. He lowered his lips to hers, his hands burning hot on her arms. The first touch of his mouth on hers had her breath catching. When he slanted his mouth across hers, she feared she might faint. A rumble of appreciation emanated from him, and she curved her hands across his thighs for support. His tongue found hers, and he tasted her softly, teasing her with his tongue. When he broke away, it took all her willpower not to make a disappointed sound.

  Though she did rather appreciate his genuine smile. She could not help but smile back.

  “Well then…”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  One kiss would not be enough, and they both knew it. She was certain of that.

  Chapter Ten

  Reuben tweaked his cravat and blew out a breath, casting his gaze over the letters he’d received this morning. He’d been neglecting business for too long. His constituents’ needs were great and estate
matters needed to be overseen—something he could not do from his aunt’s house. Not to mention it was starting to look a little odd, him staying so long, especially considering he lived so close.

  But he’d be damned if he wanted to leave now.

  Not after kissing Angel.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and straightened his waistcoat. Logic warred with this sensation deep in his gut. This sensation that had been lingering there since he’d seen Angel in the library, clad in a flimsy shift and robe. Since he’d touched her face. Since he’d tasted her…

  Logic told him he needed to return home. Not only to see to his business but to put some distance between them. No wonder he could not think straight when she was around. The woman was like no one he’d ever met. All smiles and laughter and quick wit. That combined with the obvious care she had for his aunt was a lethal combination. Much longer under the same roof as her, and he’d be wanting to take her to bed.

  If he left, however, he could court her properly.

  His stomach knotted at the idea. That was if she even agreed to be courted. He still had little idea why Lady Angel Templeton had opted to grace them with her presence, and if he was honest, he had not much cared of the past few weeks. She’d done his aunt a world of good and…well…she’d done him some good too.

  That did not mean, however, that he should get swept away by this whole thing.

  Inhaling deeply, he stepped out of his room and headed downstairs to the breakfast room. He paused in the doorway. He had not spoken to Angel properly since their kiss three days ago. Aunt Jean had kept her busy and had been going through one of her bouts of sleeplessness again. Somehow, he’d have to snatch a chance to speak to her alone.

  His heart dropped a little when he stepped into the breakfast room to find only his aunt at the table. Doodling on a sketchpad whilst sipping on a cup of tea, his aunt hardly noticed his entry into the room until he had selected food from the buffet table and sat down.

  “Where’s Angel?” he asked, unable to contain the question.

  “Oh, setting up my easel outside.” She pressed the end of the pencil to her mouth and peered at the sketch. “I wanted to make the most of the fine weather.”

  “Indeed,” he mumbled non-committedly.

  “It is sunny, Roo. I shall not catch a cold. Angel takes excellent care of me.”

  He nodded, allowing himself a small smile at his aunt’s defense of Angel. “I know, Aunt.”

  Her eyes narrowed a little while her lips curved. “So you concede that she is indeed an excellent lady’s companion.”

  “When have I ever said otherwise?”

  Aunt Jean shook her head. “I know you, Roo Roo. You blundered in here thinking you knew what was best for me and full of judgement about that girl.” His aunt gestured out of the window, where he spotted Angel setting up the easel and paints.

  “I think she is very good to you,” he said tightly.

  If he said anything more, he might show his hand, and until he knew exactly what was happening between Angel and himself, he dare not. After all, she was not just his aunt’s companion, she was the sister of a marquis. As well as he might be doing for himself, he had no title. For all he knew, that kiss meant nothing, and he was leading himself down a path of folly.

  “She is good for you too,” his aunt mused.

  “We get on very well,” he admitted.

  “More than very well.” She tilted her head to eye him. “I think you have taken quite the fancy to her. Look” —she thrust a finger at him— “even now you cannot keep your gaze from straying to her.”

  Reuben tore his gaze away from the window where he could see Angel struggling to set up the easel. It kept collapsing, and he was fairly certain he saw her issue a few curse words. He had to press his lips into a firm line to keep them from twitching.

  “Aunt—”

  She held a hand up. “Do not lie to me, Reuben Hunter. You might think me an addled old lady, but I know well enough when two people are in love.”

  He made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee and nearly choked on it. “Love?” he spluttered.

  His aunt nodded smugly.

  “No—” He lowered the cup of coffee onto the saucer. “You are mistaken.”

  “If it is not love, what is it?”

  He looked into his aunt’s determined and clear gaze. She was not swept up in one of her more flighty moments. Here was the aunt he’d always known—clever, observant, and forthright. And she was rarely wrong.

  But love…?

  He shook his head more to himself than to his aunt. He was thinking of a slow, steady courtship, where they would have time to discover how their differences worked. Angel found joy in almost every moment, and he could not help but get swept along by that. But how would she cope with his seriousness? With his need to keep things orderly? It was far too soon to decide if they were in love or not. It just was not logical…

  “Roo, if you stopped thinking for one moment, my dear, you might see that your heart is already telling you what you want.”

  His gaze strayed to outside again. Angel gave the easel a little kick then probably cursed at it again. His heart felt full, heavy. It thudded hard while the desire to grin like a madman rushed through him. No matter how much he tried to analyze the sensations, there was no defeating them.

  Damn and blast. This could very well be love.

  But…

  “You…you think she cares for me?” Lord, he hated how vulnerable the words sounded.

  Aunt Jean’s smile grew even more smug. “I have been around long enough to know when a woman loves a man, my dear.”

  “So…”

  “Of course she does, Roo Roo. Of course she does.”

  He swallowed hard. The food on his plate no longer appealed now his stomach was a jumble of nerves and excitement. If that was true…Lord, if that was really true, he’d have to be the luckiest man in the world. He peered at her through the window and saw her give a little jump as she finally set up the easel. He grinned.

  “Oh, my lawyer is visiting today,” his aunt said airily. “Something about my investments in London or something. I said you would be here so he can discuss things properly with you.” She waved a hand. “You know I have never understood money.”

  He grimaced. He knew that all too well considering Cartwright was still allowed in this house. The other problem with him leaving was it would make his aunt vulnerable once more, but he was fairly certain he could trust Angel to look after her. She did not like Cartwright any more than he did and was quite inventive at ensuring he did not enjoy his visits here. He’d have a word with Angel and see to it that she would keep any potential charlatans away. If she agreed to him courting her, he would still visit regularly anyway.

  God, he hoped she said yes.

  “I shall speak with him,” Reuben agreed. He could also speak to the lawyer and see what else they could do to protect her finances. “But then I really must think about returning home.”

  Aunt Jean blinked at him. “You do not want to leave, surely?”

  “I have stayed for some time now, Aunt. I have been neglecting my duties.”

  She sighed. “People were wondering about the length of your visit, so I suppose it was to be expected.”

  He stiffened. The last thing he wanted to think about was people gossiping about him. His family had experienced enough of that with his mother. Regardless of how much he’d rather stay here with Angel, it was definitely time to leave.

  “She’ll miss you, you know.” Aunt Jean gestured outside with a spoon laden with jam. Several drops of the crimson liquid splattered across the pristine white table cloth. It reminded him of when he’d first set eyes on Angel.

  His aunt waved wildly at the window, and he glanced up to see Angel beaming at them and waving back. His heart nearly lodged into his throat. He’d get this meeting done with the lawyer then speak to her about his aunt.

  Then ask if he could court her.

 
; His cravat seemed to tighten around his neck. He’d spoken in Parliament for goodness sakes. He was a grown man with plenty of life experience. But the thought of Lady Angel Templeton not returning his affections had him feeling like a damned schoolboy again.

  And, very much like a shy schoolboy, he avoided her for the morning, keeping himself busy answering letters until the lawyer arrived. Mr. Ellis greeted him with a warm handshake as Reuben showed him into his late-Uncle’s study. Aunt Jean preferred to conduct business in the drawing room, but Reuben needed to have this conversation away from his aunt.

  “I heard you were staying here, Mr. Hunter.” Mr. Ellis sat on the chair opposite Reuben and tugged out some papers. “I’m glad you are. Your aunt and I have been discussing what would happen if she…well…begun to lose her faculties.”

  Reuben grimaced. “I’m sure you’re aware that she has been a little scattered for a while.” He considered her words this morning. There had been no vagueness or uncertainty in those. “Though it varies,” he added.

  Mr. Ellis nodded thoughtfully. “That is why we think giving you control of her finances might be the best way of ensuring your aunt and her finances are fully protected.”

  Reuben paused. Yes, he had hoped there would be something they could do, but he didn’t think his aunt would ever agree to such a thing.

  “Aunt Jean agreed to this?”

  Mr. Ellis pushed the papers over the table. “As you can see.”

  He eyed his aunt’s signature and pushed a hand through his hair. He was grateful his aunt trusted him so much with her welfare but…there was something painful about her handing over all power to him.

  “Will you give me time to read these over and talk to my own lawyer?” Reuben lifted a few pages and shuffled them back into one pile. “How did you get Aunt Jean to consider this?”

  Mr. Ellis smiled. “Your aunt is no foolish woman. You have always been her favorite and everyone knows you will inherit eventually.”

  “I do not—”

 

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