Fit for a Duke: Dangerous Dukes

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Fit for a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Page 5

by Wendy Soliman


  Three was most definitely a crowd.

  The butler announced that dinner was served. Ezra did what he knew was expected of him and escorted an ecstatic Lady Beth to table. He winked at Clio, who was on the arm of an audacious cove whose name he couldn’t recall but who seemed to be paying far more attention than was seemly to the enticing Miss Benton. He nodded to Henry, who had taken Adele Fletcher in and seemed totally engrossed in whatever she had to say to him. Ezra smiled as he held Lady Beth’s chair for her. Something told him that Miss Hardwick, for whose favours Henry had fought a duel and risked being killed only a few days before, had already been supplanted in Henry’s affections.

  The meal was excellent but dragged on interminably. Ezra struggled to find anything to say to Lady Beth that didn’t result in monosyllabic responses that were totally in accord with Ezra’s expressed views. He glanced frequently down the table to the position where Miss Benton and her neighbour appeared to find a great deal to talk and laugh about. Ezra would wager his fortune that she didn’t automatically concur with her dinner partner’s opinions, damned his impudent eyes!

  Finally, the meal came to an end. Lady Fletcher glanced down the table to ensure that everyone had finished, put her napkin aside and stood. All the ladies followed suit and Ezra was on his feet in seconds, reversing the process with Lady Beth’s chair. He resumed his own as she walked sedately away, hips swaying provocatively, and pretended not to notice when she kept sending wistful glances in his direction over her shoulder. Miss Benton, by contrast, linked arms with Lady Adele and didn’t once look back.

  ‘Thank God that’s out the way,’ Ezra muttered, pouring a healthy measure of port and passing the decanter to Henry, who had moved to occupy Beth’s vacated seat.

  ‘You didn’t find the delicious Lady Beth to your liking?’ he asked. ‘No, don’t tell me. Of course you did not.’ Henry expelled a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. ‘I personally think that all the ladies here this evening are perfectly charming, and I dare say talented too. But you find fault with everyone you see. I tell you true, Ezra, I wouldn’t be you, not for all your wealth and consequence.’

  ‘You appeared to enjoy Lady Adele’s company,’ Ezra remarked in a low voice while the rest of the gentlemen chatted amongst themselves.

  ‘I say, isn’t she a vision! I think she may be the one.’

  ‘What of Miss Hardwick?’

  ‘Oh her.’ Henry flapped a dismissive hand. ‘She’s charming, but I don’t think she truly likes me so I shall not pursue her. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly. I will leave the field clear for Carstairs.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Ezra replied, chuckling. ‘What did Lady Adele have to say about her cousin?’

  ‘Oh, the quiet little thing in turquoise.’ Quiet? Ezra smiled to himself. ‘They are the greatest of friends, it seems. She came to live here quite recently.’ Ezra hadn’t known that the move had been recent and wondered where she had lived before that. ‘We are acquainted with her father, of course, or were. He was our major general.’

  ‘I thought that might be the case.’

  ‘Well anyway, she and Lady Adele will come out together next year, unless one or the other of them finds a husband before then, of course.’ Henry grinned. ‘Stranger things have been known to happen.’

  ‘Take it slowly,’ Ezra cautioned, aware that his words would be ignored. It was several weeks since Henry had fallen undyingly in love with Miss Hardwick. It was beyond time that cupid’s arrow struck again.

  The gentlemen had only just returned to the drawing room and Ezra had prepared himself to withstand a barrage of indifferent performances on the pianoforte designed to impress him when a commotion in the doorway heralded a late arrival.

  ‘Captain Salford!’ Lady Fletcher cried, rushing forward. ‘I am so very glad that you could be excused from your duties.’

  ‘How could I resist your invitation,’ a man whom Ezra despised asked, oozing insincere charm. ‘Especially when it gives me the opportunity to spend time with Miss Benton.’

  ‘That is the major general’s adjutant, Captain Salford, unless I mistake the matter,’ Henry said, drifting up to Ezra’s side. ‘The man you wanted to have cashiered.’

  ‘I am told,’ Silas said with malicious glee as he too joined Ezra, ‘that he is also Miss Benton’s intended.’

  Chapter Four

  Clio glanced towards Captain Salford and her heart sank. She had not been aware that he’d been invited. Her aunt had promised her a surprise and she had assumed it would be an agreeable one. Not that she had anything against Captain Salford precisely. Indeed, her father had thought very highly of him and he had been a frequent visitor to Benton House on the less frequent occasions when Papa had been in occupation of it.

  During her younger years the captain had treated Clio with distracted condescension. He had actually patted her on the head on several occasions when she had been eleven or twelve, as though she was a lap dog. He tended to pass asinine remarks that as a child it hadn’t occurred to her to challenge. He was Papa’s righthand man, and Clio craved her father’s approval, so as she grew from child to woman she tolerated the captain’s increasingly more extravagant compliments. She didn’t take them seriously, but she hadn’t discouraged him either. Perhaps she had given him the wrong impression, she now accepted, and he had mistaken her reticence for maidenly modesty.

  Did he seriously believe that she would welcome his advances?

  She could not have said what it was about Captain Salford that offended her, other than the fact that he wasn’t nearly as intelligent as he pretended to be, and lacked a sense of humour. Clio could not abide stupidity and delighted in laughing at life’s absurdities. Her mind drifted to her earlier lively exchange with the duke, but she chased the recollection away. Now was not the time.

  There most likely never would be an appropriate time to untangle her jumbled emotions regarding that particular gentleman. Besides, he was way beyond her reach and Clio would not waste her life pining after the unattainable.

  ‘Clio,’ he said, approaching her with both arms outstretched, as though intent upon embracing her in front of a roomful of people. She would not permit him to do so in private and had no intention of setting a precedent in public.

  ‘Captain Salford,’ she said at the same time, adroitly avoiding his arms and leaving him foolishly clutching fresh air.

  ‘I had hoped for a more fulsome welcome,’ he replied, his broad smile slipping.

  ‘I am sure you are very welcome,’ Clio replied evasively. ‘It is just that no one told me you had been invited.’

  ‘I hope the surprise is not an unpleasant one.’

  ‘I dare say you will prove a welcome addition to the party.’

  Captain Salford did not look encouraged by Clio’s ambiguous response but only had himself to blame for that misfortune. Had he taken the trouble to get to know her better during her formative years he would be aware that she spoke as she found.

  ‘Lady Fletcher was kind enough to offer me her hospitality when she learned that I was in England, desirous of seeing my ward.’

  ‘Your ward?’ Clio elevated a brow. ‘To whom do you refer?’

  Clio was conscious of the duke moving closer to her position by the open French windows, as though attempting to repay the favour and eavesdrop on her conversation. She smiled in spite of herself. Although she didn’t know him well, she suspected it was just the sort of capricious revenge he would enjoy exacting. Why he felt the need to do so when half the room was clamouring for his attention was less obvious to her.

  To say she had only just become conscious of his close proximity would be a falsehood. She had been acutely aware of his presence dominating the room for the entire evening, along with just about every other female in occupation of it, she suspected, allowing herself a wry smile. She hated herself for being so predictable, but her mind appeared determined to dwell upon his myriad attributes, which did not improve her mood.

  She
had noticed just how well he and Beth complimented one another at table. They were by far the most attractive couple in attendance, and Clio was thoroughly ashamed of herself when part of her rejoiced because the duke and Beth had appeared to have little to say to one another. When she had been alone with him in the tack room, the conversation had never been in danger of drying up. Now Cora Marlow, with her mother’s not-so-subtle encouragement, was hovering in the duke’s periphery, displaying her admittedly attractive person for his approval. Sadly for Lady Cora, the duke wasn’t paying her even scant attention.

  ‘Why your dear self, of course.’

  ‘Me?’ Clio pointed at her own chest for emphasis. ‘Your ward? Nonsense! I was not aware that Papa had—’

  ‘He did not, but only because he ran out of time. I thought you were aware of his intentions in that regard.’

  ‘It’s the first I have heard of it.’

  Clio glanced over her shoulder, annoyed to discover that Lady Fletcher had been waylaid by another guest. Clio had no intention of introducing the captain to the rest of the party, thereby emphasising the impression that he had some sort of claim on her affections. It was not her place to do so. Besides, she couldn’t recall who half of the elegant people were.

  ‘He was worried about your wellbeing and knew he could trust me to look out for your interests—to guide you, if you like.’ Clio did not like, but refrained from saying so, at least for now. It would result in a battle of wills that had no place in Lady Fletcher’s drawing room. ‘But alas, his illness got the better of him before the arrangements could be put in place, and clearly before he could mention the matter to you. However, I fully intend to keep my promise to him and take care of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Captain, but that will not be necessary. I am quite comfortable here with Lady Fletcher, where no harm can possibly come to me. It would not be fair to keep you from your soldiering.’

  ‘We are currently at peace, Clio, and my duties are not onerous. Certainly not so onerous that I cannot make time for you. My presence is required at Horse Guards from time to time but the distance from there to here is not considerable.’

  No one seemed to be paying them much attention anymore, other than the duke, who still lingered and actually sent her a concerned look when she glanced in his direction. One or two of the ladies who had clearly decided they had no chance of attracting the duke’s interest sent speculative looks the captain’s way instead, Lady Cora amongst their number. Clio could quite understand why. He was unquestionably a handsome man, and his military bearing lent him a sophisticated air. He could also be entertaining when he put his mind to it, but Clio found his charm shallow and insincere. The only person Captain Salford loved was himself.

  ‘Thank you, but please do not spare a thought for me. I am settled with my aunt and quite old enough to take care of myself.’

  ‘Ah, you think you are.’ He grasped her hand, placed it on his sleeve. ‘Come, let us take a turn around the room.’

  The unnecessarily proprietorial display irritated Clio and her inclination was to decline. But such a gesture would be impolite, and she was unwilling to create a scene that would embarrass her aunt, so she walked at his side, quietly fuming.

  ‘You are unaccustomed to gatherings of this nature,’ the captain said, causing Clio to wonder how he could possibly know what she was and was not accustomed to. ‘Your father worried about your introduction to society.’ Clio raised a brow, thinking that if such a thing was true it would be the first time that he had worried about anything other than military strategy. ‘You are attractive and wealthy—a lethal combination that will make you the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. I aim to protect you from those who would exploit your innocence.’

  ‘You assume to know a great deal about me, but we are barely acquainted,’ she said coldly.

  He looked down at her and sent her a look that was probably intended to be intimate. Clio averted her gaze. ‘A situation that I intend to rectify,’ he said.

  ‘You presume too much, Captain,’ she said in an arch tone.

  ‘Ah, my dear, I am so sorry.’ Clio could have kissed her aunt when she bustled up to them. ‘Lady Dennington needed my advice and I could not get away. However, I shall introduce the dear captain to the rest of my guests. You come too, Clio. I would not separate you love birds for any consideration.’

  ‘Love birds?’ Clio shared a bemused look between them.

  ‘Clio, I can explain.’

  ‘You presume too much,’ Clio repeated in an angry hiss. ‘No, Aunt, thank you,’ she said in a normal voice. ‘You must excuse me but I have nothing more to say to the captain and shall enjoy a moment to myself.’

  ‘Nothing more to say?’ Aunt Fletcher pinched Clio’s cheek. ‘This is no time for modesty. However, have it your way. Come along, Captain. I shall not keep you from dearest Clio for long.’

  Captain Salford looked furious to have had his clumsy ploy exposed. Clio sensed an air of danger about him that he’d previously managed to keep concealed. He clearly hadn’t expected to encounter any opposition from her, mainly because she had remained docile in all previous exchanges with him, doubtless giving him the impression that she would be easy to manipulate. That, she now accepted, had been a miscalculation, a grave error of judgement that had landed her in this embarrassing situation.

  She watched him now as he sucked in a breath at the last moment and wisely refrained from insisting that she remain with him. Instead, he bestowed a charming smile upon Aunt Fletcher and offered her his arm.

  ‘I shall not be long,’ the captain assured Clio, ‘and then I shall be at leisure to explain myself.’

  ‘Not if I have any say in the matter,’ Clio muttered beneath her breath. Even so, the captain must have heard her, since he scowled. Lady Fletcher, who was a little hard of hearing, missed the exchange.

  Clio watched the captain’s tall, lean figure and her aunt’s far shorter one until they were swallowed up by the crowd. Turning on her heel, she felt a sudden need for fresh air and slipped through the open French doors, cursing her aunt’s interference, however kindly meant. The pleasure had gone out of the party for her now on this, its first night.

  The balmy evening air touched her heated skin but failed to cool the tempestuous nature of her thoughts. She leaned on the balustrade and stared up at the velvety sky as the last of the daylight faded and the stars emerged to put on a show that Clio was too preoccupied to appreciate.

  She moved away before others who had wandered outside could accost her. She had in truth begun to suspect even before she had closed up Benton House and removed to Lady Fletcher’s abode that the captain’s interest in her transcended the avuncular. She had done nothing to encourage his expectations, and believed that she had seen the last of him after Papa’s death. Clearly, the man had a thicker skin than she had given him credit for. Either that or he was one of the fortune hunters her father had advised her to be on her guard against.

  ‘How dare he simply assume! Now I will have to spend the entire week keeping out of his way.’ Clio was fit to be tied as she marched up and down so fast and turned so abruptly that she almost trod on a flounce. Mindful of the ruinously expensive fabric, she forced herself to moderate her pace, but not her language. ‘I would not allow the presumptuous oaf to…Oh!’

  Clio had slowed down but hadn’t been looking where she was going and collided with a solid wall. A solid wall made of muscle, covered with superfine and giving off a distinct masculine aroma that awoke every nerve ending in Clio’s body. She knew at once whom she had collided with and her heart rate accelerated as she glanced up into the duke’s arresting features.

  ‘You again,’ she said accusingly.

  ‘Talking to yourself, Miss Benton?’ Ezra asked, a little taken aback by the extent of the fiery anger that flashed through her eyes.

  ‘Eavesdropping, your grace?’

  ‘Certainly. It might interest you to know that I learned just this very day that ea
vesdropping is an excellent means of getting the wrong idea.’

  She shook her head and smiled. ‘You will have to do better than that if you mean to convince me that you are not a potential murderer.’

  ‘Me?’ He flashed a boyish smile. ‘I am completely harmless.’

  She sent him a disbelieving look. ‘You are dangerous and unpredictable, as are most men who find themselves in positions of authority that no one dares to challenge.’

  ‘You challenge me at every opportunity.’

  ‘That’s because I don’t want anything from you.’

  ‘Which is a shame.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ She paused. ‘Did you follow me out here? If so, I think it very impolite of you to disappoint all the young ladies inside who hang on your every word and deserve their share of your society.’

  ‘They are such a delightful gaggle,’ he said without much conviction.

  She burst out laughing. ‘You might at least pretend to be sincere.’

  ‘Are you really engaged to be married to that…person?’

  ‘That is none of your business.’ She arched a brow. ‘You have something against Captain Salford?’

  ‘From what I accidentally overheard of your conversation, the same could be said of you. I have seen more enthusiastic brides to be.’

  ‘Do you ever answer a straightforward question properly?’

  ‘I am enjoying our conversation so much that I have quite forgotten what the question was.’

  ‘Liar!’

  Ezra laughed. ‘You are not supposed to accuse dukes of lying. It isn’t at all the done thing, you know.’

  ‘You are not a normal duke.’

 

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