Duke and Duplicity (Rogues and Gentlemen Book 15)

by Emma V. Leech

  “Why do you keep saying Scotland in that odd way?” he demanded.

  “Because you don’t just toddle off to Scotland on a whim, Ranleigh. What the devil are you playing at?”

  “Why can’t I go to Scotland if I want to?” he demanded, looking a tad indignant.

  “Because you didn’t have the slightest intention of going five minutes ago.”

  Ranleigh shrugged. “And now I do.”

  Archie folded her arms tried not to sound impatient. “Why?”

  “I like Scotland.”

  “Not good enough.”

  He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I have a house there.”

  Her mouth fell open. She hadn’t thought of that. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “Where?”

  “I shan’t tell you.”

  She gave a huff of annoyance. “Now you’re being childish.”

  “Tell me where you’re staying.”

  “No.”

  “There you are then.”

  Archie rubbed a hand over her face and took a deep breath.

  “You can’t come to Scotland,” she said, pleading silently for him to just accept it.

  “Who says?”

  She made a sound of bewildered frustration and threw up her hands. Ranleigh smiled and took a step closer.

  “Tell me you don’t want me to come,” he said, his voice impossibly low, the tone of it sending shivers dancing down her spine. “Tell me you don’t want to see me again. You need only say the word and I’ll leave you be, I swear I will. But all the time I believe you want me near….”

  Archie went very still as his hand touched her cheek. It was large and warm and the feel of it touching her so gently was doing odd things to her pulse.

  “I won’t let you run away from me,” Ranleigh said, the words a promise sliding under her skin as her heart drummed in her ears.

  What was he doing? What was he saying?

  Before she could even begin to figure either of those things out, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

  Chapter 13

  “Wherein confessions don’t proceed how anyone expected.”

  Ranleigh made his way back to the inn humming a jaunty, if bawdy, little ballad under his breath before moving onto The Braes of Balquhidder, in light of his coming trip.

  Let us go, lassie, go

  Tae the braes o' Balquhidder

  Whar the blueberries grow

  'Mang the bonnie Hielan' heather

  Whar the deer and the rae

  Lichtly bounding thegither

  Sport the lang summer day

  On the braes o' Balquhidder

  He felt he did a passable attempt at a Scottish accent, but no doubt a few weeks among the heather would do it a world of good. His voice rang out, loud and a little preposterous under a starlit sky, but nothing could dent his good humour. It had been a rather shabby trick to play, he knew that, but he felt he had earned a little bad behaviour after enduring the past days without playing on his knowledge even a little bit. Well, perhaps just a tiny bit. Besides which, the wretch was trying to evade him again, and she still hadn’t told him the truth.

  The bubble of his happiness was pricked just a little at the knowledge she still would not confide in him, but she would. Sooner or later, she would. He felt certain of it, and then he could tell her he’d known, and he didn’t care. He loved her, and he’d follow at her heels the length and breadth of Britain if she wanted to lead him a dance. He prayed she wouldn’t.

  At least she’d not told him she didn’t want him to follow. Though, to be fair, he’d not given her much of a chance. The kiss had rendered her utterly speechless and wide-eyed and he’d left before he dissolved into hysteria or—more likely—kissed her again. A sliver of doubt worked its way into his mind. Would she tell him not to follow? An uncertain feeling made his guts roil and he forced it back, determined that this euphoric sensation not be diminished by doubt. She cared for him, he knew she did. He’d hang onto that thought with all his might until she told him otherwise.

  ***

  Archie stared at the door. She blinked and raised a rather unsteady hand to her lips. What had just happened?

  Ranleigh had kissed her.

  Ranleigh had kissed her.

  No, she thought, forcing her mind to stay on track and not start screaming and shrieking with glee. He hadn’t kissed her.

  Ranleigh had kissed Archie.

  Oh, good heavens above. What the devil was she to do?

  In the end she took the coward’s way out to give herself a little more time.

  She ran.

  It wasn’t as if it would give her long. She knew by now that Ranleigh would pursue her, and though it would have suited her better to have him go chasing off to Scotland, she couldn’t do that to him. So, she left a note informing him she was returning to Mayfair to visit Will before she left, which was the God’s honest truth.

  It was early evening by the time she landed back on Will’s doorstep.

  “Archie? I thought you’d be halfway to Edinburgh by now,” Will exclaimed when she was ushered in to see him.

  With difficulty, she restrained herself from falling on his neck, and merely wrung her hands together.

  “Oh, Will. I was going, I swear it. I was going to leave this morning only… only something happened and I’m in such a fix I… I don’t know what to do.”

  “Whatever is it?” Will exclaimed, moving her towards a chair where she sat down in a heap to catch her breath.

  With as much calm as she could manage, Archie repeated a little of the past few days, Ranleigh’s promise to keep any secret being the most significant.

  “And then we had this ridiculous conversation about me being in Scotland and him seeing me next week and… and… and then he kissed me.”

  Will blinked.

  “Well?” she demanded, outraged by his lack of reaction until she saw that he was blushing a little.

  Will cleared his throat. “And you’ve not told him that… that—”

  “Of course I haven’t told him!” Archie exclaimed with a huff of irritation. “I’d hardly have raced back here in a panic if I’d told him and he’d kissed me. I still be damn well there, kissing him back!”

  “Archie!” Will admonished.

  “Oh, really, Will,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  They both looked up as Selina walked in, looking serene and lovely.

  “What’s he done now?” she asked with a cheerful grin as she kissed Will’s cheek.

  “Nothing!” Will protested. “It’s Archie who’s set on giving me a breakdown, and probably Ranleigh too at this point.”

  “Ooooh, what’s happened?” Selina demanded, sitting down beside Archie and taking her hand. “Tell me everything.”

  “Archie,” Will said, a warning tone to his voice. “Don’t you think you should keep this in confidence? Ranleigh would likely be mortified to discover we all know.”

  Selina looked up and glared at him. “You know,” she objected.

  “Yes,” he said, looking as if he heartily wished he didn’t. “But it’s not the sort of thing a fellow would want broadcast.”

  “Oh, very well,” Selina replied with a huff. “I miss all the best gossip.”

  Will let out a long-suffering sigh and turned his attention back to Archie. “There is no longer any option. The fellow will clearly seek you out wherever you go and, short of sending you to across the Pacific Ocean to some remote island, I can see no other choice open to you. You must tell him.”

  “With unicorns and faeries,” she muttered, earning herself a look of deep concern from Will, who clearly thought she was losing her mind. She suspected he might be right.

  Archie swallowed and gave him a taut little nod, having already come to the same decision on the journey here. Hiding on a remote island seemed vaguely preferable to looking Ranleigh in the eye and telling him everything—unicorns notwithstanding—but that was just cowardice.
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  They all looked up as a knock sounded at the door, and Will bade whoever it was enter. A footman came in with a note on a silver salver and Will took it, raising his eyebrows.

  “It’s for you,” he said, his tone dry. He handed it to Archie.

  Archie took it and noted the three lions on the seal as a strange fluttering sensation erupted in her chest.

  “Ranleigh,” she said, her voice sounding a little unsteady.

  She slid her finger under the seal, prising it up with care and opening the sheet.

  “He’s invited me to dine with him tonight.” She didn’t look up, staring at the brief few lines, politely inviting her and giving her no indication of his mood, his feelings. Was he anxious, now that he’d sobered up and realised what he’d done? Did he fear she’d expose him? She felt a bubble of nervous laughter escape her at that idea; good God, if he only knew!

  “You’ll go, then” Will said, and she might have been a bit put out at him making the decision for her, but someone needed to, and the Lord knew her brain had turned to mush.

  All she could think about was the touch of Ranleigh’s mouth against hers, so tender and sweet. If only it had been real, really for her. She gave a sigh and nodded, too dejected to reply.

  Will came over and patted her on the back a little awkwardly, though she could see the regret in his eyes and knew it pained him to see her unhappy. Selina was less reserved and put her arms around her, holding her tight, which was far worse, and it made it hard not to cry.

  “It will be all right, Archie,” Will said, the words firm and full of certainty and she couldn’t help but smile at that.

  Heaven help them all if Will couldn’t fix everything. Except that he really couldn’t. Not this time. No one could and, if they knew what she’d done, they likely wouldn’t want to.

  ***

  Ranleigh fidgeted as his valet fussed about him, putting the finishing touches to his appearance. Nerves were jittering under his skin in the most extraordinary fashion, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Every time he looked at the clock it had barely moved, and he felt almost sick with apprehension, and as though he might burst from excitement at one and the same time. If the wretched woman didn’t turn up on time it could get messy.

  He cast one last critical gaze in the looking glass and assured himself his cravat was impeccable, and his boots were glossed to an eye-watering shine. He was immaculate from head to toe. Whether that was enough to impress Archie, he hadn’t the faintest idea.

  The temptation to drink while he waited was hard to ignore, but he managed it. He was going to need a clear head tonight. She had to tell him tonight. Surely? Surely, she wouldn’t run again? Heaven alone knew where she might head for next. A remote island in the South Pacific, knowing his luck. If there was such a thing as a bloody unicorn, he didn’t put it past her to hide behind it.

  Fed up with pacing, he forced himself to sit and be still, and tried not to stare at the clock as it wasn’t helping. Good heavens, he’d not been this excited since he was a small boy who suspected he was getting a pony for his birthday. This was far, far worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it.

  The memory of kissing her lingered in his mind, a scene he had played and replayed for most of last night and a great deal of the journey back to London. Her lips had been so soft, and the temptation to do more than simply touch his mouth to hers so dreadfully hard to resist. He wanted more. He wanted more so badly it hurt. It hurt his heart, which yearned for her to trust him, to let him show her everything he felt, and it hurt his body just as profoundly. His skin ached for her, a bone-deep longing to hold her in his arms, which was beyond anything he’d ever known. She was extraordinary, the most unusual and beguiling person he’d ever met, and he only prayed he wasn’t mistaken that she had feelings for him too. Though heaven alone knew what she thought of him after that kiss. Had she guessed that he knew, because if not….

  His heart leapt to his throat as he heard the front door open and close and, on glancing at the clock, discovered she was five minutes early. Was she as nervous as he was?

  He stood, feeling awkward and not sure where to put himself as the butler showed her in and closed the door behind him.

  “Evening, Ranleigh,” she said.

  Her voice was deep for a woman and he suspected she pitched it that way on purpose. Did she sound that way when she let down her guard? He wanted to know.

  “I think, perhaps, you ought to call me Guy,” he said, wondering if that had sounded as breathless as he suspected. His chest felt tight.

  Archie swallowed and gave him a wary look. “Very well, Guy. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Thank you for not disappearing on the next ship to foreign lands.”

  Her lips quirked, and she had the grace to look a little sheepish. “I-I shan’t do that again, though you may want me to when… when you’ve heard what I’ve come to….”

  She trailed off as Ranleigh crossed the room towards her.

  “I won’t.”

  She let out a huff of laughter. “You haven’t heard it yet.”

  “Tell me.”

  He took a step closer, wondering if she would back up. She didn’t. Archie stared up at him. Her eyes were not a pale blue as he’d first thought, but grey with flecks of blue, like a summer sky with a storm approaching. They were wide and expressive, and he was damned sure that was longing he could see. Please, let it be longing.

  “I….” She stared at him, her chest rising and falling too fast, telling him that she felt this moment every bit as much as he did. The atmosphere felt heavy, charged with expectation. Tell me, he begged silently. Trust me.

  “Yes?” He felt like he was holding his breath. Perhaps he was? He felt a little giddy.

  “Ranleigh, I….”

  “Guy.”

  “Guy,” she repeated, colour rising to her cheeks. Her gaze fell to his mouth and she licked her lips, and suddenly he couldn’t take it any longer.

  “I want to kiss you.” The words were out before he could stop them. Archie’s eyes darkened, her mouth opening, breathing picking up.

  “I …” she said.

  Ranleigh reached out, placing one hand on her waist and tugging her closer.

  He waited, giving her time to refuse, to tell him no. Letting her go would be the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he would, if she asked him to.

  She didn’t resist, though, only clutched at his arms to steady herself, and when he lowered his mouth to hers, she met him with her own. Oh, God. Desire lit beneath his skin with such force he thought it a wonder his knees didn’t buckle. This woman. Oh, good heavens above. This woman.

  He kissed her hard, a desperate tangling of tongues as her arms slid around his neck, pulling his head down, pulling him closer, her passion matching his as she fought to get nearer to him. She stole his wits and his breath as she kissed him with a ferocious hunger that more than matched his own. Thank God. And then she stopped.

  She pushed him away as hard as she’d drawn him close, staggering a few steps back and looking appalled.

  “Oh, my God, Ranleigh, I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have. I ought never… Oh, God.”

  Ranleigh laughed, trying to catch his breath. “What the devil are you apologising for?”

  “Because you don’t know. If you knew….” She took a deep breath and Ranleigh waited. “I’m not Mr Archibald, Ranleigh. My name isn’t Archibald at all, at least, well… it is Archibald, but… Oh, Lord, I’m making a mull of this.” She rubbed a trembling hand over her face and stood taller, staring at him. “Ranleigh. My name is Jennifer. Jennifer Archibald and… and I’m a… girl. Female. A woman.”

  Ranleigh stared at her, smiling, hopelessly charmed and irrevocably in love.

  “I know.”

  She blinked at him and he wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard, so he said it again.

  “I know, love.”

  He watched as she gasped and clutched at her chest, staring at him.
“Y-You can’t… I…. When? How? Who told you?” She was breathing so hard she could hardly speak and Ranleigh began to fear she would be unwell.

  “No one told me, I worked it out. Almost a week ago, I suppose,” he said, his voice placid. “Now come along and sit down, you’re overwrought.” He moved closer to take her arm, but she stepped back and then hit him, the flat of her hand smacking against his chest.

  “You knew?” she shouted. “You bastard! I’ve been worrying myself sick, terrified and trying to work up the courage to tell you, and you knew?”

  Put like that, it did seem a little unkind. Ranleigh frowned.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I can’t believe it.” Tears glimmered in her eyes as she looked at him with such disappointment that he felt rather afraid he’d misjudged things. “So, what was this all about?”

  She made a wild gesture between the two of them, which Ranleigh took to indicate the kiss they’d shared.

  “That was me kissing you,” he said, helpless to find any clever or pretty words to make this right. He could only give her the truth. “I’ve wanted to ever since I worked it out.”

  “Why? To see what it’s like to kiss a freak?” she snapped, the sneer in her expression sending fear thrilling down his spine. “Want a little variety in your life, is that it?”

  “What?” Ranleigh said, taken aback by the idea. “No. No, never, I… I just wanted to kiss you, Archie. Darling, please come and sit down, and we’ll talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, stubborn and furious now, and he could see she would walk away from him. “Not at the moment.”

  “Are you going to run away from me again?” he asked, feeling his chest tighten at the idea. This was not how he had hoped this evening would go.

  “No.” She shook her head, though he could see the desire to run in her eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t, and I won’t. I… I… Oh, God, Ranleigh, I just need to breathe, to….” She drew in a ragged breath and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve been dreading tonight. Dreading your anger and your disgust, and now…. Now, I don’t know what to feel.”

  “Relieved?” he suggested, offering her a tentative smile.