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Chapter One
London
1815
Katherine Greer Vareck, or as she was known around her linen shop, Lady Meriwether, walked into her house and smelled heaven. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fragrance of freshly baked bread, beef stew, and baked apples. All of it made her mouth water, as she hadn’t had time to eat today.
“Kat?” Willa Ferguson, Katherine’s companion, walked into the entry to greet her. With a peck on her cheek, Willa helped her slip off her dark lavender cloak and hung it on one of the neatly spaced hooks by the front door. “You’re home late . . . again.”
The smile on Willa’s face and the fact her Scottish accent was more pronounced indicated she’d been worried for her. Twenty years older than Kat, give or take, Willa was more than a companion. She was like a mother, sister, and best friend all in one person.
Kat returned the kiss in greeting. “I promise to keep more regular hours.” She and her staff had worked later than usual preparing the Marchioness of Wilder’s order. Ever since the ton had discovered Kat had married a duke’s son, they all wanted her exquisite linens. “I had several orders that had to be delivered this evening, then I had to confirm the correct samples before I sent them off to the Secretary of the First Lady of the Bedchamber.
“Well, if you don’t take care of yourself, including sleep and meals, you’re not going to be taking or delivering any orders, no matter how well-received your samples are by the Prince Regent.”
“Speaking of meals, when are we eating?”
“Soon,” Willa answered. “But first, there’s a letter for ye.” She picked up a post from the small, black entry table and handed it to Kat. “It looks official.”
Kat took it and glanced at the address. “It’s from the office of Mr. Malcom Hanes, Esquire.” She turned it over. The impressive seal seemed to take up half the backside of the post. “I wonder what he wants?”
“Nothing good, I’d say.” Willa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve never seen happy news come from a solicitor’s office.” She took Kat’s hand and brought her into the cozy sitting room next to the entry hall. “Let me pour you a cup of tea while you read it.”
“Thank you.” Kat took a deep breath and let her gaze sweep across the loved but well-worn furnishings in the room. A cozy fire cracked and hissed in welcome. The black-and-white furnishings with the pink accents made the room feminine, a retreat from the world when things became dire.
She’d spent practically her entire wedding day in this room. What would be more dire than your husband leaving you after six hours of marriage? When her husband, Lord Meriwether Vareck, who preferred to be called Meri, had left her on the steps of the townhouse, Kat had found refuge in this very room. Perhaps that was why Willa wanted her to read the letter here.
No. She’d not let Willa’s prediction ruin her day. There was nothing to worry about . . . at least, not yet. As Willa poured the tea, Kat carefully broke the seal to reveal the contents. Quickly, she scanned the document.
“Well, lass?” Willa sat on the edge of her seat and handed the cup to Kat.
“It’s good news, I’d say. Mr. Hanes’s clerk has invited me to the reading of Meri’s will. It’s next week.” Kat took a sip of tea as the wafts of steam cradled her cheeks. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth and the taste.
“Thank the heavens above,” Willa exclaimed as she clapped her hands together. “Now, you’ll receive your money. I’ll be the first to admit, I fretted over that.”
“I did as well.” Kat’s eyebrow arched on its own. Meri’s older brother, the Duke of Randford, was expected to arrive in London any day now. It was beyond irritating to admit that when she’d first sent a letter asking for an audience upon the duke’s arrival, his staff returned the envelope unopened without a word of explanation.
But now, she’d not be ignored. She was the widow of the Duke of Randford’s brother and would be at the solicitor’s office when the will was read.
Willa let out a sigh. “Lass, dukes are too high in the instep to be bothered by the amount of two hundred pounds. He should have returned your dowry money already. It’s been six months since your . . . husband died.” She lowered her voice even though they were the only two there. “It was announced in today’s papers that Duke Hoity-Toity will have a few celebrations when he arrives home. Perhaps you should visit him between his fêtes at your earliest convenience. Get your two hundred pounds from him in person.” She huffed slightly in annoyance. “The very idea that the man hasn’t sent a letter of condolence to you already is beyond the pale if you ask me.”
“Willa,” she exclaimed.
“He and his staff ignored you,” Willa argued.
“It makes little difference now. As long as I have my money in time to buy materials for the secretary’s visit, we’ll be fine.” Kat laughed softly as she put down her cup. “The duke’s return is all anyone can talk about. Apparently, there will be an orchestra and speeches when he sets foot in London. A real hero’s welcome, I understand.”
“Ay, Kat.” Willa’s soft lilt was growing more pronounced, a sign her aggravation was increasing. “Once you see the duke, then we’ll be able to rest easy around here.”
“I’m certain the duke has a million other things on his mind,” Kat said soothingly. “My customers say that women are already planning their spots on the streets when he arrives. I’ve heard they plan to throw their handkerchiefs his way, hoping to catch his eye.”
“If you ask me, they’re throwing good money away.” Willa sniffed. “A duke, much less a war hero, isn’t going to spare a glance at a commoner or even a lowly peer. He’ll want a duke’s daughter for a wife.” Willa inched her chin up. “There’s a reason those dukes and their families are so ugly.” She lowered her voice again. “Inbreeding.”
“Willa,” Kat admonished with a laugh. “That’s not true. Meri was one of the most handsome men I had ever met.” She carefully picked up yesterday’s pamphlet that lay on the table before her. It featured Meri’s brother, the Duke of Randford, front and center. He sat on his horse before the artist. His determined comportment and the sharp angles of his cheeks stole her breath. But it was his searing gaze that made her heart beat faster. “The duke certainly appears just as pleasing to the eyes from the posts that bear his likeness.”
She took a sip of tea to hide the smile that threatened. Indeed, from what she’d read and had seen about the duke, he was more handsome than Meri in every way.
Once they finally met, things would change. She’d hoped they’d become friends or maybe even confidants.
She blew across the cup of tea. The idea was simply ludicrous. He was a duke.
Willa shook her head in response. “Your husband was the exception. He favored his mother. She was a famous actress whose beauty surpassed her talent. Every duke, marquess, and earl who could afford her wanted her as his.”
“Hmm,” Kat said noncommittally. “You’re being a bit harsh, don�
��t you think?”
“Nay, lass.” She reached and placed her hand over Kat’s and squeezed. “There was only one person who had greater beauty and definitely more natural talent than the previous duchess. Your mother.”
For a moment, Kat let the words sink in. When they’d lived in York, Kat’s mother had been the best actress in the northern part of England. People from nearby Leeds and Bradford traveled regularly to see her mother perform on stage. But as sometimes happened, the demand for seats at the York Theatre seemed to disappear. The folks that traveled from afar must have found other entertainments closer to home.
After the theatre had closed, Kat’s mother did what any mother would do in the circumstances. She took whatever work she could find, ensuring there was always food on the table for her family.
“Your mother, God bless her soul, would be proud of you, lass. Look at you. You married a duke’s son and you have a successful business.” Willa’s chest expanded with pride. “And you’re a beauty just like your mum.”
“Do you think she’d be proud to know that her daughter’s husband vanished six hours after the wedding breakfast?” It was wicked on Kat’s part to say unbecoming things about her husband. Especially now that he was dead. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She should be grateful to Meri. Their marriage had made her respectable.
But it didn’t dismiss how Meri had regarded her. She deserved more from her husband than to be treated like a discarded piece of rubbish.
“Are ye grieving, lass?” Willa asked softly.
“How can you mourn if you didn’t really know a person?” She studied the well-worn calluses on her fingers, a sign that she’d worked all day, every day. “I didn’t love him, but I’m sad about his passing. Meri was too young. But I’ve mourned him for the last six months the best I know how.”
“I’ll say,” Willa chimed in. “Black bombazine.” She shimmied her shoulders as if she’d just bitten into a tart lemon. “If I never have that fabric against my skin in this lifetime, it’ll be too soon.” She shook her head once again for dramatic effect. “You were only married to him for less than a year—”
“I know, Willa.” Her companion didn’t mean to make matters worse. But just hearing how long he’d stayed away from Kat always made her wonder if there was something wrong with her.
She dismissed such a notion. There was nothing wrong with her or her work ethic.
Meri’s wanderlust was simply too powerful to contain.
It made little difference at this point. She no longer wore black. Her wardrobe consisted of two mauve dresses to symbolize that she was still in half-mourning. She could attend society functions if she were ever invited.
Kat considered herself stuck in a level of society that confounded most hostesses. They really didn’t know what to do with her. Though she’d been married to a duke’s son, she was far removed from nobility. The fact that she worked and owned her own business made the waters even muddier.
But really, she much preferred to come home and spend time with her darling Willa every night. It was what she’d done for the ten years since her mother had died.
But every once in a while, Kat longed for a man’s company. Someone who would appreciate her and her interests.
Yet, after her experience with Meri, she’d decided never to marry again. She had everything she needed right here in her own home.
Except one thing: two hundred pounds.
The duke would be responsible for Meri’s affairs. From everything she’d heard, it would appear the duke didn’t care much for his brother. If he wouldn’t see or communicate with her, it stood to reason that he’d not return her money.
She was jumping to unfounded conclusions. The duke was probably a kind and generous man. But if that was the case, then wouldn’t he have at least written to offer condolences? There was only one solution to ensure she received her money. She’d call upon the duke herself.
“Willa, did the papers give an expected arrival time for the duke?”
Chapter Two
The next day
Christian Arthur Thomas Vareck, the eighth Duke of Randford, slid the door of his campaign bureau closed. He’d finally had an opportunity to answer his solicitor’s inquiry. As soon as he stepped foot on dry land, he’d have one of the waiting Randford footmen deliver it.
He glanced around his quarters. It was hard to believe that it was only a week ago that he had been in the midst of a battle that had raged for practically the entire day. He took a deep breath and allowed the briny air of the Thames to seep into his lungs.
How he ended up fighting against Napoleon and his army was a lark. When he’d had enough of the scandalous spectacle that encompassed his family, Christian had bought a commission to the army and had never looked back.
Somehow, the distance from home hadn’t allowed him to outrun his past. Like a nocturnal intruder skilled in stealth, it had caught him when he’d least expected it. With a rash of letters from the family solicitor as its shroud, Christian’s past had demanded he return to England and take his rightful place as the Duke of Randford.
His father had passed away when Christian had first joined the army. Mr. Malcom Hanes, his solicitor, had begged Christian to come home then and see to his dukedom, but Christian had always politely declined.
Now, he was home to do his duty to his family.
If something had happened to Christian, then his younger half brother, Lord Meriwether Vareck, would have inherited the dukedom. After Christian’s beloved mother had died, the seventh Duke of Randford had immediately married his long-time mistress who was pregnant with Meri.
It was then that Christian had known his place in the world.
And it wasn’t with his family.
Now that he didn’t have an heir, Christian would have to consider marriage. He’d hoped to postpone such a duty until later. There were so many other things he wanted to accomplish. For example, helping the men who’d served with him acclimate to their new lives when they returned home. Besides, he’d never really met a woman who’d interested him.
“Captain?” Christian’s loyal batman, Jacob Morgan, stood inside the doorway. “It’s time.”
Christian’s gut clenched at the bandage wrapped around Morgan’s head. He’d been injured a month ago and had lost an eye in battle. When he’d been released from duty because of his injury, Christian had resigned his commission and had offered Morgan a position as his valet.
Today they were going home . . . if Christian could even consider Rand House his home.
“How’s your head?” Christian asked.
“It still throbs, but at least I can sleep at night.” His valet rubbed his forehead. “But I’ll be ready to perform my duties as your valet immediately. First order of business will be to help you find your brother’s will.”
Christian locked the portable desk then regarded Morgan. “I don’t think you should worry about your duties. It’d behoove you to rest. Let your body heal.” His gaze drifted to the window where London loomed large in the distance. “Meriwether’s will. I’ve got to find it.” He clenched his fist. “The Vareck family solicitor, Mr. Hanes, wants it immediately. One of his clerks scheduled the reading of the will without checking that they had the document in their possession. I’m sure Meri has left a pile of debts that I must see to also. As head of the family, I must ensure Hanes has everything he needs to carry out Meri’s last wishes.”
Morgan’s visible eyebrow arched. “Meri?”
“That’s what my half brother always preferred to be called.”
“Sir, were you close to your brother?”
Christian shook his head. “He was a walking scandal. I wanted nothing to do with him when he reached adulthood.”
“In what way was he a scandal?” Morgan asked.
“Where shall I start?” Christian asked rhetorically. There wasn’t a man alive who Christian would trust more than his valet with these secrets. “One Christmas, Meri invited all six of his
mistresses, present and former, to spend the holiday with our family at Roseport, the ducal seat. He put them all in a distant wing of the house. Our father spent the entire holiday there with Meri and his guests. My stepmother returned to her lover in London immediately.”
“That must have been awkward.” Morgan’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.
“It gets worse. I ended up celebrating with the servants. My butler Wheatley, who’ll meet us at the dock, insisted I attended Christmas Eve services at the village church with him and the rest of the staff. When we were returning home, we discovered Meri on the front lawn, completely naked, totally foxed, and howling Christmas carols at the moon.”
Morgan bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“The servants were completely appalled.” Christian sighed. “It made giving out the Christmas bonuses the next day rather eventful. My father couldn’t be bothered with the tradition of thanking the staff for their devoted and selfless service. So, it was left to me. None of them would look me in the face after they’d seen my brother warbling like a loon.”
Morgan struggled for a moment with what to say. “Your family sounds . . . colorful.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” The truth was that Christian did everything he could to escape from their gawdy, outrageous behavior. “Throughout England, my family had been known for their infamous theatre parties that better resembled orgies. My family excelled at turning the ridiculous into the absurd.”
“You’re nothing at all like that in behavior or temperament.”
The shock on Morgan’s face would have been comical if Christian could laugh. “Thank God, I’m not.”
Unfortunately, he could find no humor in his family and their antics. Was it any wonder that Christian either had locked himself in his room or had traveled to another estate when his father, stepmother, and half brother threw a party?
But the sly, sneaky past had inconveniently dumped Christian’s future at his feet. Now, he had to deal with the aftermath of his brother’s death. Only Meri could find a way to drown in a mud puddle on a stormy night while participating in a steeple race.
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