by Diana Bold
The duke looked startled. “I wasn’t aware you knew Ivanovich.”
“He nearly killed me at Balaclava. Might as well have. I certainly wasn’t any help to my men after he wounded me. Spent two months on a rat-infested hospital ship fighting the infection.”
The duke seemed a bit rattled as he folded his arms across his chest. Dylan wondered if Clayton had even considered the fact that eventually, the prince would learn about the scandal.
“Ivanovich could never care for her as I do. He doesn’t even know her.”
“And you do know her? What do you know of my daughter, Captain Blake? Other than she’s lovely to look upon, and her dowry will make you comfortable for the rest of your life?”
Dylan held out his hands in hopeless entreaty. “She’s sweet and honest and kind. She made me feel loved, Your Grace.”
“Well, I must admit you seem sincere.” The duke gave Dylan a long piercing look. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to be a hell of a lot more eloquent if you wish to convince my daughter.”
Relief washed over Dylan as he realized he’d passed the first test. “Thank you, Your Grace. All I’ve ever wanted is a chance.”
The duke smiled. “I’ll send her in.”
Chapter Fourteen
Natalia paced her bedchamber, her nerves frayed to the breaking point as she waited for her father to conclude his interview with Dylan. It seemed an eternity had passed since Dylan’s arrival, which she’d witnessed from her window.
On one hand, she hoped her father berated Dylan for all his many sins. But she also feared her father would be too harsh and ultimately send Dylan away. In truth, she didn’t know if she wanted him to stay or go. The mere thought of seeing him again created such conflicting emotions; she was afraid to examine them too closely.
A brisk knock interrupted her thoughts. She rushed to the door and found her father waiting on the other side. “Your young man is here.” The duke seemed in rare good humor. “Are you ready to speak to him?”
Natalia nodded, unsure what to think of her father’s smile. “Yes, Father. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
The duke took her hand and escorted her down the hall. “Don’t fret, my dear. I consider myself to be a fairly good judge of character, and I believe Captain Blake cares for you a great deal. You could do worse.”
Natalia’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue. She’d expected Dylan to charm Clarice but never the duke.
“Did you know Prince Nikolai wounded Captain Blake in the Crimea?” The duke shook his head in amazement. “Forgive me for even thinking of marrying you to that Russian, Natalia. You’re far better off with Captain Blake.”
Ivanovich had wounded Dylan during the war?
Before she could even begin to process that information or steel herself against Dylan’s lethal appeal, her father opened the reception room door. Natalia followed the duke and found Dylan waiting inside. Despite her hurt and anger, Natalia couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Though still breathtakingly handsome, he looked pale, and dark circles rimmed his clear gray eyes. Apparently, these last few days had been hard on him, too.
“Lady Natalia.” Dylan stepped forward, captured her hand, and brought it to his lips. “I’m so glad you agreed to see me.”
The heat of his mouth against her skin sent frissons of desire skittering down her spine. She quickly snatched her hand away. She didn’t want to be reminded of the passion they’d shared.
The duke cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you alone. I know you have a lot to discuss.”
Before Natalia could protest, her father withdrew and left her to face Dylan by herself.
Dylan shifted restlessly and gestured toward a small sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”
She nodded, perched on the far edge, and then glanced at him from beneath the veil of her lashes as he sat down beside her. Although the length of the sofa separated them, he seemed far too close. His unique scent washed over her. She fought the urge to lean closer and simply breathe him in.
He stared at her for a long moment then sighed. “What must I do to make this up to you? What can I say that will prove I never meant to hurt you?”
Nothing. There’s nothing you can say that will make this right. All the excuses in the world couldn’t make her trust him again.
“Just tell me one thing, and please, tell me the truth.” Natalia gathered all her courage and forced herself to meet his pleading gaze. “Did you follow me out into the garden with the intention of compromising me? Did you arrange for us to get caught, just so you could win my dowry?”
A frown pulled at the corners of his beautiful lips. “I swear I never intended to try to win you for myself. You know I promised my brother I’d step aside that very evening.”
“Then why did you agree to meet me? Why didn’t you keep your promise?” Angry tears stung her eyes, and she struggled to control them, determined not to let him see her cry.
He clenched his fists at his sides and looked away. Perhaps he didn’t want to face her while he told her yet another lie.
“Because you chose me, Natalia. Me, not him.” The raw sincerity in his voice almost convinced her. “You were the first person in my life who seemed to like me better than Michael.”
“I did like you better than Michael.” Her voice trembled with longing as she thought of the easy friendship they’d lost. “I liked you better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Does that mean you don’t like me now?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I think you still care for me. At least a little.”
Their conversation had barely begun, and she’d already betrayed herself. She wanted to wipe that confident look off his face but couldn’t bring herself to say the hurtful words that would accomplish it.
“Oh, Dylan.” She buried her face in her hands, unable to look at him. “I thought you were different than the rest. I thought you cared about me, not the money. Don’t you know how badly it hurt to find out you’d gambled on my affections?”
“I’m not sorry about that bet. If Jonathan hadn’t goaded me into pursuing you, I’d never have gotten to know you. And I did get to know you, Natalia. I like you for a hundred reasons that have nothing to do with your blasted dowry.”
She wanted to trust him, but if she opened herself up to him, he’d inevitably hurt her yet again. So, she said nothing. She merely lifted her head and stared at him, wishing he could be the man she’d once thought he was.
Dylan could see he’d failed Natalia miserably. Despite everything he’d said, she still believed his kiss had been mercenary. “We both know why I’m here. If you don’t want to marry me, then go ahead and say so. If you really wish you’d never met me, I’ll walk out that door, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
He held his breath and stared deep into her exotic green eyes, feeling as though he’d been waiting his entire life for this moment. He needed this. He needed her. “Please, Natalia. I want to marry you.” He realized he was begging and made an effort not to sound so needy. “I owe you that much, at least. For all the hurt I’ve caused.”
He knew he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words left his mouth. “So, you’re only doing this to save my reputation?” Natalia shook her head. “You still can’t tell me the truth, can you?”
Dylan bowed his head, unable to meet her knowing gaze. “I want to marry you. God, I want it so much.”
“You should let me go. We’re no good for each other.” But as she spoke, she leaned forward and touched his cheek with her fingertips.
Her actions gave him a faint spark of hope. How could she say such a thing, yet touch him so sweetly? He met her gaze and willed her to hear the truth behind his words. “You are wrong, love. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Natalia stared into Dylan sooty gray eyes and knew she’d lost the battle. Unfortunately, Dylan was motivated by guilt and greed—she by sheer desperation. How could a marriage built on such a
shaky foundation do anything but crumble? He would break her heart again. But the alternative—Prince Nikolai—was unthinkable.
“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you, Dylan.”
Her only comfort lay in the knowledge that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
She’d done that when she kissed him.
WHEN DYLAN AND NATALIA emerged from the reception room a few moments later, Clayton was waiting for them in the hallway. He’d probably heard their entire conversation, given his close proximity to the door.
Dylan and his future father-in-law stared at each other for a long moment, but then the duke extended his hand. “I assume congratulations are in order, young man?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Dylan cast a quick look at his less-than-enthusiastic fiancée. “Natalia has done me the great honor of consenting to become my wife.”
“Under the circumstances, I couldn’t be more pleased.” The duke squeezed Dylan’s hand a little more firmly than necessary. In warning, no doubt. Dylan’s respect for the man grew. He obviously cared for Natalia a great deal. She was lucky. He would do anything for a father who loved him so deeply.
The duke released Dylan’s hand and turned to his daughter. “And you, Natalia? Are you pleased?”
“Yes,” Natalia murmured. “Under the circumstances.”
Which wasn’t exactly the response Dylan had hoped for. Still, she’d agreed to become his wife. They had an entire lifetime to regain what had been lost.
“Well, come along then.” The duke seemed satisfied with her answer, which gave Dylan one less thing to worry about. Having the duke on his side meant half the battle was won. “We’ll join the duchess for dinner. I’m sure she’ll want to have her say in the wedding plans.”
NUMB, NATALIA FOLLOWED her father and Dylan down the hall toward the dining room. Everything had happened so quickly. How could her father expect them to sit down to a celebratory dinner? Did they have to plan the wedding this very second? Couldn’t her father give her even a moment to think about all that had happened?
When the three of them entered the dining room, they found Clarice pacing. When she saw them, her face lit up and she quickly directed one of the servants to set another place. Duty done, she hurried over and gave Natalia a swift hug. “I knew you’d make the right decision. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Natalia held her stepmother for a long moment and tried to draw comfort from Clarice’s faith. “I hope you’re right.”
Clarice squeezed her shoulder, then stepped away and took her place at the duke’s side. “Please, sit down. Dinner will be served in just a moment.”
With a wry smile, Dylan moved forward and offered Natalia his arm. “Shall we?”
Natalia nodded and rested her hand on her future husband’s forearm. As they walked toward the table, his muscles moved and flexed beneath her fingertips. Soon, she would have the right to touch him whenever she wanted.
The thought both frightened and tantalized her. What would it be like, to have him in her life, in her bed? Would it be worth the inevitable heartbreak? Just a few short days ago, she’d been willing to risk everything to find out.
Dylan solicitously pulled out her chair. After she sat, he took the one beside her. A million questions danced in Clarice’s bright gaze as she sat down across from Natalia. The duke took his place at the head of the table, while the servants poured the wine and served the first course—a rich turtle soup.
“Well,” Clarice began, sounding far too enthusiastic. “It seems we have a wedding to plan, don’t we?”
“We certainly do.” Dylan matched Clarice’s tone. He glanced over at Natalia. “First, we need to set a date. When do you think would be best?”
“I should think we’d like to get this over as soon as possible,” the duke replied, giving Natalia no chance to answer. “You’ll need to obtain a special license. But I don’t think that will be a problem, given my connections. How about one week from today?”
One week. Natalia hadn’t realized her father would insist upon such haste. She’d assumed once she’d made her decision, she’d have the normal amount of time to prepare for the wedding. A few months at least, during which she and Dylan could try to repair their relationship.
Dylan squeezed her hand beneath the table in an obvious attempt to offer comfort. “That’s very soon, Your Grace. Hardly time to plan a proper wedding.”
“He’s right,” Clarice chimed in. “That’s not even time to have a dress made, let alone plan a menu, order flowers, send out the invitations—”
“No need for invitations. It will be a small ceremony, just immediate family.” The duke gave Natalia an apologetic glance. “I refuse to invite anyone who will come merely to speculate.”
Dylan tightened his grip on her hand. “Natalia deserves to have the wedding of her dreams, Your Grace. I don’t want to take that away from her.”
Natalia extricated her hand. She didn’t want his comfort. “I don’t deserve any such thing.” She stirred her soup and wished the interminable supper would end. “It doesn’t matter. Next week is fine.”
The duke frowned, but since she’d gone along with his wishes, he couldn’t argue.
Clarice looked near tears. “Of course, you deserve a real wedding, darling.” She gave her husband a furious look. “I insist you allow us all the time we need.”
“No.” Natalia spoke up again before the duke and duchess could begin a full-fledged argument. “June third is fine. As Father said, it’s best to get this whole thing over as quickly as possible.”
Dylan shifted beside her, sighing. Apparently, he didn’t like the way she spoke of their wedding—as though it were something distasteful. Something which needed to be gotten over with. She didn’t care. It served him right.
“Fine. June third, it is.” The duke turned his attention toward Dylan. “You’ll want your father and brother to come, I suppose.” His grudging tone indicated he still hadn’t forgiven Michael for refusing her.
Dylan shook his head. “I’m not on easy terms with either of them. But I would like to invite Basingstoke.”
Dylan’s request startled her. She hadn’t realized Dylan and the Earl of Basingstoke were such good friends.
“I suppose that will be all right.” The duke steepled his fingertips and looked around the small gathering. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
“There is one more thing.” Dylan cleared his throat, and Natalia felt his sudden tension.
“Well, speak up.” The duke’s tone made it more than obvious he didn’t want to hear any more surprises today.
A servant entered the room with the second course, but the duke waved him away. “Give us a few more minutes,” he instructed sharply. “We haven’t even finished our soup.”
Dylan waited until the servant left and turned to Natalia. “I recently found out I inherited a small estate in Scotland. I have no idea what shape it’s in, but I plan to make Aldabaran my home.”
“Out of the question,” the duke thundered. “I won’t allow you to drag my daughter off to some rotting castle in the middle of bloody Scotland.”
Dylan flicked the duke an annoyed glance, then returned his attention to Natalia. “It’s beautiful there. Quiet and peaceful.”
Natalia was taken aback by the passion and sincerity in his voice.
“I’ve had enough of London. I think you have, too. But I wanted you to know my plans. There’s still time for you to change your mind. If you don’t think you’ll be happy living a quiet country life, you should tell me now.”
He wanted to take her to Scotland. To a quiet peaceful place that meant a great deal to him. His offer sounded wonderful but confused Natalia more than ever. That kind of life did not require a fortune like the one she possessed.
When had he found out about this estate? She wanted to ask him but decided to leave the question for another time. When they did not have an audience. “Scotland sounds wonderful. And
if we go there, we’ll be able to escape all the gossip. Perhaps the ton will find some other scandal to savor, once we’re no longer around.”
The duke perked up a bit at that. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“You will bring her back to visit us from time to time, won’t you, Captain Blake?” Clarice sounded forlorn. For the first time, Natalia realized her marriage would forever alter her close relationship with Clarice.
Even if she remained in London, they’d no longer share a home and wouldn’t see each other on a daily basis. What would she do when she couldn’t turn to Clarice with all her troubles and triumphs?
“Of course, I’ll bring her to visit,” Dylan agreed. “As often as she likes.”
“Then it seems as though everything is settled.” The duke lifted his wine glass with obvious satisfaction. “Let us drink to a long fruitful marriage.”
His emphasis on the word fruitful did nothing to calm Natalia’s fears. Was this the reason for her father’s good cheer? Did he hope she’d start popping out children within the first year? Dear lord. The mere thought of what that would entail made her weak in the knees. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for any of this.
Dylan cleared his throat, and she realized she was the only one who hadn’t lifted her glass.
“Sorry,” she muttered and awkwardly joined the toast.
Four crystal glasses clinked musically together, sealing her fate.
Chapter Fifteen
After leaving the duke’s estate, Dylan headed for the Earl of Basingstoke’s residence. He was in dire need of someone to talk to and hoped his friend hadn’t already gone out for the evening.
He and Julian had been friends since they’d met in boarding school, and once Dylan told him the way of things, Basingstoke could be counted upon to act with discretion. Dylan didn’t want the ton to learn about the wedding and descend upon them like buzzards scenting a fresh kill.
He arrived at his friend’s huge Georgian townhouse just as evening blanketed the city. The butler opened the door promptly, and he gave the man his card.