To Desire a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 8

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To Desire a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 8 Page 19

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘I did it!’ she cried, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

  ‘So you did,’ Troy replied, smiling at her.

  ‘Now you know better than to challenge me, I have no further use for you,’ Brione said, so softly that only Troy could hear her. ‘Go away. I was busy questioning Sir Gregory before you distracted me.’

  ‘You asked your question and got your response. The damned impudent cove was taking liberties.’

  She arched a brow. ‘And you were not?’

  ‘Ah, but you can trust me to behave myself.’ He paused, sending her a provocative smile. 'Probably.’

  ‘How in heaven’s name have I managed all these years without your protection?’

  ‘That is a question I frequently ask myself.’ They strolled side by side away from the archery, leaving Sir Gregory standing in their wake, staring after them. Shadow was no longer with Troy and Brione wondered what had become of him.

  ‘I can see Captain Craig over there bowling.’

  ‘Your grace!’ Miss Frazer led a bevy of young females who scurried up to his side. ‘We must claim you for paille-maille. We none of us have the first idea how to hold the mallet and need someone to show us how it ought to be done.’

  ‘That will never do,’ Brione replied, with a mischievous smile. ‘I can see that your assistance is urgently required in order to prevent a disagreement, your grace, and so you can be sure that I shall excuse you.’

  Miss Frazer blinked, looking confused. ‘You will?’

  ‘It will be my pleasure, Miss Frazer.’

  ‘You will pay for this later,’ Troy whispered in her ear as he walked away.

  Brione laughed as she strolled in the other direction. Troy was perfectly capable of fending off the attentions of a few harmless girls and deserved to have them thrust upon him after the way he had behaved with the archery. She reached the bowling just as Captain Craig finished his game.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Gilliard. How well you look.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Captain. Did you win?’

  ‘Alas no.’

  ‘Never mind, isn’t it supposed to be the taking part that counts?’

  ‘Not a bit of it!’

  They both smiled as he led her to the shaded area beneath the first floor walkway, where refreshments were laid out. ‘Would you like a glass of lemonade?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Captain Craig snapped his fingers and a footman materialised to provide their drinks. It was Joseph, but this time Brione was prepared for him. He gave her a long look, but she had already turned her face away before he reached them. They sat for ten minutes, conversing about mundane matters. She found Captain Craig’s company undemanding, despite her doubts about his patriotism. She also sensed his interest in her, but could not return it. He was charming and courteous, but he didn’t make her heart miss a beat or her insides overheat in the manner that the duke so easily could. In the manner that he had done a few minutes ago, simply by standing too close and showing her how to fire a bow.

  She dropped Conrad into the conversation but if it meant anything to Captain Craig, then he was better at disguising his reaction than Sir Gregory had been. Before she could prolong that particular conversation, he was called upon to join a game and excused himself.

  Brione was not left alone for long enough to decide what to do with herself next before she was joined by Lieutenant Vaughan. She noticed Mr Kensley sauntering around the keep with Rachel and knew he must be watching out for her, which she found reassuring. She liked Captain Craig but had very different feelings regarding her new companion. They talked of nothing in particular for a minute or two, but Brione sensed the man had sought her out for a reason.

  ‘I must apologise again for mentioning Ana deSouza to you yesterday,’ he said after a pause, confirming Brione’s suspicion.

  ‘You are forgiven,’ Brione replied, not looking at him.

  ‘It was a clumsy mistake. In my own defence, it didn’t occur to me that you knew nothing about her existence.’

  Brione arched a brow. ‘You imagine that Evan discussed her with me, or that I was so desperate for a husband that I would have married him had I known?’

  ‘I cannot imagine you ever being desperate for admiration.’

  ‘I was surprised and upset by the revelation, I won’t deny it, but I have had an opportunity to become accustomed to the knowledge and am glad to have been made aware. It explains a great deal of things that have worried me for a long time, so you have nothing to apologise for.’ She paused to reflect. ‘Is she very lovely?’

  ‘Not as lovely as you.’

  ‘That is the only answer you could possibly give to an unfair question,’ Brione replied with an apologetic smile, ‘but doesn’t tell me much about my rival for Evan’s affections. Well, she was no rival. She clearly owned his heart, but I think it only natural that I should wonder what is so remarkable about her.’

  ‘War is a destructive business, in more ways than one.’ He stared off into the distance, his expression remote. ‘As soldiers, we see the sun rise every day but never know if we will still be alive to see it set again. It makes a person reckless for pleasure, I suppose, and the customary code of conduct is often ignored.’

  ‘Eat, drink and be merry…’

  Lieutenant Vaughan smiled absently. ‘Something of that nature. Soldiers do not always behave well before, during or after battle. That, I am afraid to say, is the way of war.’

  ‘Evan mentioned you to me once or twice,’ Brione said. ‘He spoke of a close friend of yours, a gentleman by the name of…Faulkner, was it?’

  ‘Fletcher.’ Lieutenant Vaughan’s expression closed down.

  ‘Did he come home?’

  ‘No. He did not.’

  ‘Then I am very sorry. He clearly meant a lot to you.’

  ‘Thank you. He did. We grew up together. Younger sons, unimportant, largely ignored and left to follow traditional careers in the law, the church or the army. Bonds like that mean something.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘He died in the same conflict that claimed your husband’s life.’

  ‘I see.’ Brione allowed a short pause. ‘Anyway, as to men’s conduct during wartime, I am sure what you say is perfectly true, except for the fact that Evan must have met Ana before war broke out, given that she bore him two children.’ Brione waited for jealousy to grip her but it failed to materialise, which surprised her. It seemed that pride had already overcome the gut-wrenching pain she had lived with since Evan’s death. That must be the case, otherwise she wouldn’t have tolerated Troy’s earlier behaviour, much less fought against enjoying it. Not that she had fought very hard but then, why should she? Evan certainly hadn’t deprived himself of far less innocent pleasures. ‘He should have followed his heart and married her. He did us both a disservice.’

  ‘Ana is in England, you know,’ he said into the ensuing silence.

  ‘No, I did not know. Well, how could I? I have been aware of her existence for less than a day.’ Brione took a moment to assess this latest intelligence, wondering why Lieutenant Vaughan had bothered to enlighten her. ‘What is she doing here, and more to the point, how do you know her whereabouts?’

  ‘There is only so much I can say. We have interests in common in London.’

  ‘In Whitehall?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ The captain paused. ‘Ana hopes to meet you. She told me as much not long after Evan died.’

  ‘Then she should write to me,’ Brione replied, uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

  ‘I cannot say why she hasn’t done so. Her time isn’t always her own and anyway, excuse me, but she would have been grieving too.’

  ‘Thank you for the reminder,’ Brione said in a caustic tone.

  ‘I saw her quite recently in London, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Well, I was there as well, staying with Mrs Woodley, so if she has written to me and sent the letter to my home in Cambridge then it has not ye
t reached me.’ Brione paused. ‘Why she would wish to see me is a mystery. It seems rather arrogant of her to suppose that I would receive her, given the circumstances. Does she really imagine that we will drink a cosy cup of tea together and reminisce about Evan?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Gilliard. Again I have upset you. This is really none of my business. All I can tell you is that Ana and I are friends. I did not know when I came here that I would have the pleasure of making your acquaintance and I hope that I can now look upon you as a friend also.’

  ‘Certainly, although I doubt our paths will cross again,’ Brione replied in a distracted tone. She stood, feeling a strong urge to distance herself from Lieutenant Vaughan, with his probing looks and uncomfortable topics of conversation. Even so, her curiosity regarding Ana was well and truly piqued, and if she did hear from her, she would most certainly arrange a meeting.

  ‘Did you ask the duke about Conrad?’ he asked, standing also.

  ‘I have not had an opportunity. We are not well acquainted.’

  ‘I saw him with you just now, at the archery.’

  ‘I had forgotten all about it, given what you told me about Ana. That has been the only subject on my mind, as I am sure you can easily imagine.’

  ‘A word to the wise, Mrs Gilliard. Be wary of the duke.’

  ‘Why?’ Brione blinked, not having to feign surprise. ‘He was your commanding officer, you his trusted adjutant. You were comrades in arms. I cannot think what there is to be wary of.’

  ‘The duke is an excellent man and a superb commanding officer, but he also has a reputation when it comes to the fairer sex.’

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant, but I am not cut from the same cloth as my husband.’ Brione tipped her parasol over her shoulder, feeling insulted. ‘And even if I was, frankly it is none of your concern. Good day to you.’

  She left him standing where he was. Fuming at his behaviour, convinced that he was manipulating her in some fashion, Brione didn’t trust herself to remain in the keep and indulge in social discourse. She returned to the house, but only got as far as the entrance vestibule before again running into the duke.

  ‘I need to speak with you,’ he said, grasping her hand and tugging her in the direction of his library.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There was only so much provocation a man could take, Troy had decided by the time he’d escaped the clutches of the grimly determined Miss Frazer and her friends and returned his attention to Brione. When he was finally free to do so, he found her laughing with Craig, comfortable in his company and letting her guard down in a manner that she never seemed to accomplish with Troy. He felt a swelling of jealous rage. The indolent cove was flirting with her and she was flirting right back. Didn’t she realise that she was playing straight into his conniving hands?

  How could she!

  Perhaps Troy’s judgement had been affected by her beauty and vulnerability. Watching her now, it seemed evident that she wasn’t nearly so upset about the revelations regarding Gilliard’s secret life as he had supposed.

  ‘I understand that you have private reasons for wanting Mrs Gilliard here.’ Deb had glided up to Troy’s side without his noticing her approach and spoke in a furious whisper, ‘but almost rutting with her in public simply will not do. I will not tolerate it!’

  ‘You will not tolerate it?’ Troy turned to his sister and fixed her with an imperious look so severe that Deb took an involuntary step backwards. She had not chosen an opportune moment to attempt to manipulate him.

  ‘What I mean to say is, I don’t care what you get up to with the woman in private, but don’t flaunt your relationship in front of my guests. It lowers the tone.’

  ‘I shall pretend you didn’t say that,’ Troy replied through tightly pursed lips.

  ‘Sorry, Troy. I didn’t mean to sound like a crosspatch. It’s just that there are so many suitable females here for you to look over and yet you seem fixated on a widow who hails from the middle classes.’ Deb shuddered. ‘I cannot begin to imagine what Papa would have made of that.’

  Troy could, and knew that his reaction wouldn’t have been one of disapproval, but he remained silent on that particular point.

  ‘You assume that because I show a lady some attention, it naturally follows that my thoughts have turned to matrimony.’

  ‘I certainly hope that they have. It is beyond time you remembered your duty, as long as Mrs Gilliard is not your intended.’

  Troy shook his head, surprised that he was still…well, surprised by his sister’s fiercely protective attitude towards the family’s standing in the eyes of society. He knew it would be pointless to continue with this conversation. He would only say something that he would later regret, and for all her pretentions Deb was a good sort who ran the castle and his domestic affairs with an efficiency that would make the strictest of major-generals sit up and take notice.

  ‘Do you really want to have this discussion here and now?’ Troy asked, fixing her with a look of stony rebuke.

  ‘No,’ Deb replied, sighing. ‘You will do just as you please, no matter what I say. You always do.’

  ‘Excuse me.’

  Troy marched away, his mood further soured by the confrontation, and stood out of sight beneath the keep’s overhang. No one would find him here unless they were specifically looking, and he could watch over Brione, just as he had promised to do, and try to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was probably attempting to win Craig’s trust in the hope that he would let something vital slip, just as they had agreed that she should.

  But it didn’t mean that he had to like it. He felt increasingly disturbed by the power she seemed capable of wielding over him; by her ability to affect him quite so profoundly with little more than a provocative look or a careless word.

  A certain smile.

  She was bestowing more smiles than enough on Vaughan, who had taken Craig’s place at her side, Troy thought, his scowl intensifying. His officers were taking it in turns to try Troy’s patience, which was almost exhausted by the time she turned towards the house. Troy stepped into the hall by a door that would get him there ahead of her, grabbed her arm and frogmarched her towards his library.

  ‘Let go of me!’ she protested. ‘What is wrong with you? You’re behaving like a bully and hurting my arm.’

  Troy realised that he very probably was, so firm a grasp had he taken on it. He opened the door and released her when she walked through it. Despite her furious expression, it felt as though she had brought sunshine into the room with her. Shadow, who had been shut in to prevent him from being shot by a badly aimed arrow or a stray bowl, jumped to his feet and wagged his tail. Troy watched her fussing over the dog, her lovely profile coming alight with pleasure as feelings that were unfamiliar to him— jealousy, possessiveness, self-doubt—swirled through his bloodstream.

  ‘Have the goodness to explain why you are in such a taking,’ she said imperiously, straightening up from scratching Shadow’s belly and turning to face him with accusation gleaming in her remarkable eyes.

  ‘You were flirting,’ he said, thinking how pathetically lame that excuse for his behaviour sounded. ‘Those men are not children. They are battle-hardened soldiers accustomed to taking what they want, and you are sending out entirely the wrong signals.’

  ‘I was not flirting. I was executing the plan that we agreed between us.’ She fisted her hands on her slim hips, angry and defiant. ‘And even if I was flirting, what business is it of yours?’

  She was still standing just inside the door and something stronger than his own will took control of Troy’s actions. He took a step towards her and she took a counter step backwards, coming up hard against the door.

  ‘Stop being so territorial, your grace. You do not intimidate me.’ But her voice lacked conviction and her irises darkened with the dawning of awareness as he kept her pinned to the door by placing his braced arms against it on either side of her head, leaving no space separating them. Her face coloured and her br
eath came in shorter and shorter gasps. But it was her eyes that continued to give her away, widening and probing as deep as a verbal question that Troy had no intention of ignoring. He had a point to prove.

  He lowered his head until his lips almost brushed against hers. ‘I am making your behaviour my business,’ he said in an earthy drawl, ‘and if you continue to disobey, then you will have to answer to me.’

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, drawing an involuntary groan from him. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you are impossibly dictatorial?’

  ‘Frequently. And you are exasperating, disobedient, far too impulsive and breathtakingly beautiful.’

  ‘You like to have your way,’ she said, her voice playfully castigating.

  ‘Always.’ He breathed the word against her lips and she shuddered. ‘Are you ready for your punishment?’

  She swallowed but seemed incapable of speaking. Troy ignored the rational side of his brain that urged him to draw back while he still could, warning him that he was playing with fire. But he was in no mood today for rational strategy. Sometimes instincts trumped common sense. He had wanted this monstrously disrespectful female since he had first discovered her rummaging about in his personal space, posing as a dishevelled maid.

  He had lain awake, too frustrated to sleep, as thoughts of her compelling eyes plagued his mind, sending it on a sensual detour. And now here she was, testing him with her pithy retorts that made the desire to retaliate impossible for him to resist.

  Enough was enough!

  Troy removed one hand from the door, watching her the entire time. He gently cupped her chin with his fingers and closed the small distance between their mouths, covering her lips with his own with a firm assuredness born of experience. She muttered something incomprehensible, tried to twist her mouth away for a moment or two, but her resistance didn’t last beyond a heartbeat and Troy gloried when a small groan escaped their fused lips and she returned his kiss with passion.

 

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