‘I don’t suppose he would deliberately set out to make them cry.’ Clio squeezed Adele’s hand. ‘I have barely exchanged a dozen words with the gentleman but he seems to be the type who is naturally sociable. However, I also happened to notice the way you engaged his complete attention at table. Take heart from the fact that I haven’t seen any of your rivals for his affections managing that feat.’
‘Oh, Clio, I have not fixed my interest on Lord Fryer. You assume too much.’
‘Do I?’ Clio asked with a playful lift of both brows.
‘However, I fully intend to enjoy this party, and if Lord Fryer should happen to crave my company…’
‘Good manners would preclude you from denying him that pleasure, of course. And why should you attempt to, my love?’ Clio sensed a presence and glanced over her shoulder. Captain Salford was bearing down on them, wearing a determined expression. The duke, Clio noticed, was sauntering around the periphery of the gathering, exchanging a word here and there, but never taking his attention from Clio for long. She was unsure whether to feel irritated or comforted by this self-imposed display of ducal protection. ‘I cannot face the captain now,’ she said to Adele abruptly. ‘If he attempts to press his suit, it will only strengthen his claims when others see us together and make erroneous assumptions.’
‘It is very wrong of him, and arrogant in the extreme to simply assume, based on nothing more than his close association with your father.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Clio gave another glance over her shoulder. The captain had been delayed by a question put to him by one of the matrons, but Clio suspected he would not permit himself to be detained for long. ‘I don’t want to argue with him in my aunt’s drawing room. That is a confrontation I will have to postpone until a more suitable juncture. Occupy him while I slip upstairs.’
Without giving Adele the opportunity to respond, Clio moved away and headed for the hallway. Glancing back, she noticed Adele conversing with the captain and Clio made good her escape, conscious of the duke’s gaze boring into her back from the open doorway as she ascended the stairs. She caught his gaze and he inclined his head, as if to reassure her.
Reassure her about what precisely, she wondered.
Clio reached her room without the captain running after her. She would not have put such a bold move past him, since he seemed determined to accost her and appeared somewhat perplexed by his failure to immediately secure her affections. Such arrogance!
‘Bah!’ she cried, ringing the bell for Daisy and then throwing herself onto the window seat. The grounds were in darkness, but for the occasional corridor of light cast over the gardens by the candles lighting up the ground floor rooms. She threw her window open to welcome a slight breeze and heard snatches of various conversations rising up from the terrace beneath her.
‘Goodness, miss!’ Daisy puffed into the room. ‘I did not expect you to retire so early. The word is that Captain Salford is here with the express purpose of paying court to you.’
Clio twitched her nose. ‘That’s as maybe, but I have no particular desire to be courted.’
‘But I thought…’
‘You thought what, Daisy? That just because he was my father’s favourite, I would welcome a father substitute.’
‘Well, he is fearful handsome, miss.’ Daisy giggled. ‘And I don’t think he looks upon you with a paternal eye,’ she added.
Clio laughed, thinking it unfair to take out her unsettled mood on her maid. ‘Looks can be deceiving.’
‘I hear…Good heavens, what happened to your hair?’
Clio had forgotten about her style disaster. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said, vaguely.
Daisy tutted as she removed the remaining pins and set to with a brush. ‘You should take more care, miss. All my hard work was for no purpose.’
‘I think there were one or two who appreciated it,’ she replied, thinking of the duke’s reaction to the calamity. ‘Are you enjoying yourself with Mr Godfrey?’
‘It’s not like that, more’s the pity. But he is a very agreeable person, unlike some who think they can take liberties with us servants and not answer for the consequences. Well, he’s a servant himself, of course, albeit a very senior one, but he doesn’t look down on us lesser mortals and generally makes himself agreeable.’
‘There is nothing lesser about you, Daisy. Don’t put yourself down. You are a lady’s maid, Mr Godfrey is a gentleman’s…well all right, a duke’s valet, but you are still equals, more or less.’
‘That is what he says.’
‘Ah, so he has singled you out.’ Clio grinned. ‘How very sensible of him. I am sure there is no one below stairs to compete with your prettiness.’
‘Oh, miss, you’re biased,’ Daisy said, flushing and beaming simultaneously.
‘What did you and he talk about?’
‘All manner of things. He has been to so many places in the duke’s service and seen so many things, it’s hard to fathom. He has been with his grace since before he became the duke. He was just Lord Ezra back then and was quite happy to remain so, according to Mr Godfrey.’ Daisy paused with brush in hand. ‘He mentioned that you encountered the duke in the grounds earlier. He asked a lot of questions about you.’
‘I hope you didn’t tell him too much.’
‘Of course not.’ Daisy looked highly offended. ‘As if I would betray your trust.’
‘I know you would not. Sorry.’ Clio turned her head so fast that she almost dislodged the brush from Daisy’s hand. ‘I am feeling out of sorts, what with the captain turning up so unexpectedly.’ She sighed. ‘I wish he had not come. In fact, I wonder what it is that he really wants.’
‘Well obviously, he has lost his heart to you. It stands to reason.’
‘If that is the case then he is destined for disappointment. I don’t even like him very much, especially now that I better understand…’
‘Understand what about him?’
‘Nothing.’
Clio fell silent as Daisy braided her hair. As soon as she had changed into her night attire she dismissed her maid, anxious to be done with her probing questions and curious glances. Not tired, Clio curled up on the window seat and stared out at the dark gardens. She could hear a man immediately below her window cajoling a female to spare him a kiss. She was severely tempted to lean out the window and find out who they were. Then she recalled her own situation not so very long ago, alone with a duke whom she had been convinced was on the verge of kissing her.
Who would have kissed her, had not Captain Salford interrupted them—another reason to resent his presence. The devil of it all was that Clio would not have prevented the duke from overstepping the mark. He fascinated her on a level over which she had absolutely no control. She had never been tempted to consider behaving inappropriately before, but the glamorous duke had awoken a need deep inside her that coiled through her system in heated waves. Clio felt a whimsical desire to be kissed by a man who would doubtless be a master in the art of seduction.
And to learn what happened next.
How could she be so attracted to a man whom she suspected of plotting a murder? Not that she did seriously suspect him. She knew what she had heard but not in what context the words had been spoken. He had assured her that he wasn’t planning to kill anyone, and she believed him.
She believed him because she wanted it to be true and because she had convinced herself that he would not deliberately deceive her, even if he was acting in a secret capacity of some description or other on behalf of the government. She believed him because he had given her his word, and to a man of his stature his word would be sacrosanct. His conscience would not allow for any equivocation in that regard.
Even so, Clio mused, she would be most interested to learn why he had been conducting a private conversation about murder with his valet in the tack room. Surely such a conversation could have been more conveniently conducted in the privacy of his chamber. Questions without answers continued to rattle around inside Clio’
s head. Questions that she had no right to contemplate. If she was satisfied that he had not come here with the intention of killing a person, then his business was…well, none of hers.
‘Face it,’ she said aloud, ‘he fascinates you and you are looking for ways to involve yourself with him.’
That was undeniably true, but he had returned the favour by making sure that she escaped the captain’s clutches when he need not have done so. He had followed her out onto the terrace with the obvious intention of speaking with her. He had smiled and laughed with her in a manner that she hadn’t seen him employ with anyone else present.
Perhaps he simply wanted to ensure that she wouldn’t repeat what she had overheard and was courting her good opinion for that reason. Her pride took a denting at that very real possibility, until she adjured herself to be sensible. She was not on the prowl for a husband—she was far too young to contemplate tying herself down for the rest of her life. If she did marry, she wanted to enjoy herself first. Besides, even if she had been intent upon matrimony, the duke was so far above her in the social order that she could easily develop a permanent crick in her neck from looking up at him.
Thus resolved and in control of her emotions—at least after a fashion—she privately conceded that he was by far the most handsome, ruggedly alluring, sophisticated and fascinating gentleman of her acquaintance. She would enjoy his company whenever he chose to bestow it upon her, using it as a means to avoid Captain Salford until such time as she was ready to confront him, but she would not get carried away with fanciful notions.
Clio was unsure how long she sat there, lost in a reverie, reliving each of her exchanges with the duke, conscious of the warm glow that he had inspired deep within her core spreading to the outermost reaches of her body. The voices from below began to fade. The party was winding down and Clio crossed the room and climbed into her bed.
Sleep took its time to claim her, but she was up with the dawn, ready for her early ride, which had become a solitary tradition. Without ringing for Daisy, Clio washed in cold water and dressed in her summer habit—a relatively flimsy garment made from red twill. She tied her hair back and didn’t bother with a hat. No one would be around to see her and she would enjoy having the park to herself.
‘Good morning, miss.’ The head groom tugged his forelock as he observed Clio’s approach. ‘Wasn’t sure if you’d be up early this morning, what with the party going on so late, but Raven is tacked up and ready for you just in case.’
‘You know I wouldn’t allow the small inconvenience of a late night to interrupt what is really important, Jed.’
‘I reckon I do, miss.’
Another groom led a restless Raven from his stall. The gelding, whose shiny black coat was responsible for his name, pranced sideways and whinnied when he saw Clio.
‘It’s all cupboard love,’ she told her horse, kissing his soft muzzle. ‘You don’t fool me. All you want is this carrot,’ she added, producing the desired vegetable, which she had appropriated from the kitchen as she passed through it earlier, from her pocket. The gelding consumed it with surprising delicacy. Clio waited until he had finished his treat and then stood on the mounting block. ‘If you are quite ready,’ she said, taking up the reins and slipping into the saddle.
Raven put in his customary buck as they left the yard, but Clio was ready for him and he failed to unseat her.
‘I can sense that you are fresh and ready to kick up your heels,’ she said, conducting what had become a customary one-sided conversation with her horse. ‘Shall we head for the old priory?’ she asked, turning Raven in that direction and digging her heel into his flank. Raven responded with another buck and took off at a gallop.
The party lost its allure for Ezra as soon as Clio left it. He felt relief out of all proportion to the brief nature of their acquaintanceship when he saw her reach the safety of the upper landing without being pursued by Salford. He eyed his nemesis with deep suspicion as he sauntered around the room, hands clasped behind his back, looking to the casual observer as though he had nothing more taxing on his mind than enjoying himself.
But Ezra knew him better than that. He had seen him lose his temper with enlisted men during their time in the army, and he could tell by the manner in which Salford’s smile showed signs of strain that he had not expected Clio to reject his advances. He had underestimated the chit’s determination to make her own decisions, Ezra suspected, and wasn’t sure how to respond to her independent stance. He could not put her on a charge, as he had often done on a whim when he believed that a soldier had been insubordinate.
Salford enjoyed being in control, Ezra knew, and did not take opposition to his authority well. That made him dangerous and unpredictable, and Clio would require Ezra’s protection, whether she realised it or not.
Ezra smiled when he considered her reaction to his arbitrary decision—a decision that gave him immense satisfaction, not just because he had a score to settle with Salford. God alone knew he had enough problems of his own to contend with, not least of which was avoiding the attentions of a would-be assassin. Be that as it may, he had decided to make the spirited Clio Benton his responsibility and she would soon learn that he could be as determined as her, and equally tenacious.
Some of the bolder ladies found excuses to capture Salford’s attention. He handled them, Ezra conceded, with charm but his gaze constantly strayed to the staircase, as though he was actually contemplating pursuing Clio in that direction. Just let him try it!
Some men had no shame.
Ezra allowed himself a wry smile, thinking that description applied to him since he knew for a fact that he would have kissed the alluring Miss Benton had Salford not come upon them at such an inopportune time. Far from being grateful to the cad for reminding him of his manners, Ezra felt cheated out of an experience that he would have to be out of his mind to pursue. The chit intrigued him. He admired her individuality, her courage, her forthright manner and the fact that she knew her own mind, despite her relative youth.
Or perhaps because of it.
He endured the party and the attentions of just about every female in the room for another hour. Satisfied that Clio would be safely tucked up in her bed by that time and aware that Salford was still working his charm here in the drawing room, he felt it safe to retire himself.
‘God give me strength!’ he cried in exasperation as he entered his room, shrugged out of his coat and threw it at Godfrey. Merlin, lying flat out in front of the open window, made do with flapping his tail before returning to his slumbers with a martyred sigh.
Godfrey chuckled. ‘That bad, eh?’
‘Worse, although there were some interesting developments.’
‘I hear Salford has arrived,’ Godfrey said, scowling. ‘Everyone below stairs is talking about it. Seems they have him married off to your Miss Benton.’
‘The devil they have!’ Ezra raised his man’s scowl with a more ferocious one of his own.
Godfrey chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, her maid knew nothing of any agreement between them and reckons her mistress tells her everything.’
Not everything, Ezra sincerely hoped, since he knew his behaviour on the terrace had not been particularly gentlemanly. If he had attempted it with just about any other female in attendance, her connections would have forced him down on bended knee, probably with some justification. His detractors might accuse Ezra of taking advantage of Clio’s lack of male guardianship. He had heard it said that her trustees took scant interest in her wellbeing, satisfying themselves that she had been farmed out to relatives and leaving it at that. The thought of inadvertently exploiting her position gave him pause. Nothing could be further from the truth. Could it?
‘She told me herself that she hadn’t known he was coming. Nor does she seem to have any interest in him.’
‘That won’t go down well. You and I know that one don’t take rejection lying down. She will need to have a care.’ Godfrey picked up Ezra’s discarded waistcoat and brushed
it down. ‘What I don’t understand is why Salford is here. He must have known that you would be too. The whole district’s been abuzz with the news, ever since you accepted your invite, according to the tattle below stairs. Salford knows you bear him a grudge following his denial of our accusations against him, but he’d have to be dicked in the nob if he thinks he can somehow even the score against a man of your stature.’
‘The same thought had occurred to me.’ Or would have, Ezra supposed, had a certain siren not done her level best to muddle his thinking. Not that she had to do a great deal to achieve that ambition, other than to be anywhere near him. Dear God, he needed to have a care! He had not forgotten his reason for being here, and couldn’t allow himself that kind of distraction. But then again he had vowed to keep her safe, and a promise was a promise.
‘I suspect Miss Benton’s fortune might be his real objective. He’s probably in financial straits, and took it as read that she would accept him, based on nothing more than his close relationship with her father and the power of his toxic charm. Those considerations would make crossing my path a risk worth taking. Besides, he would be aware this was her first party and that she is due to come out next season. She’s attractive and wealthy and so he couldn’t risk someone else beating him to the prize, damn his eyes!’
‘And you can’t tell the world what you know about Salford’s conduct without proof, I suppose,’ Godfrey reasoned. ‘He would be within his rights to call you out if you did such a thing.’
Ezra chuckled. ‘He might be dissolute but he’s no fool.’
‘You could start a whispering campaign to discredit him.’
‘I could if I was that underhanded.’ Ezra scowled at his man. ‘You appear to be mistaking Salford’s character for my own.’
‘Just playing devil’s advocate,’ Godfrey replied, unmoved by Ezra’s asperity. ‘All I’m saying is he could just be here for reasons that have nothing to do with his amatory ambitions.’
Fit for a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Page 7