To Desire a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 8

by Wendy Soliman

  Even so, she thought, smiling mischievously, he was toying with her and there was nothing to stop her from retaliating. She was certainly overdue a little harmless fun and would rise to the challenge, but for the fact that she was incapable of playing those sorts of games. Besides, she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that she would be the one in control. Few men and even fewer women, she imagined, ever got the better of the imposing Duke of Alford.

  Brione groaned when she recalled telling Troy that he fascinated her. Why the devil had she let her guard down? He must be accustomed to having females of all persuasions falling at his feet—easy conquests, barely worth the effort. Gentlemen enjoyed the thrill of the chase, did they not? She had seen evidence of his magnetic pull during her few days here and had no intention of adding her name to the list of his devotees.

  Shaking her head, she attempted to consider more pressing matters—like exposing the traitor’s identity and deciding what to do about Ana if she really did make contact. Not that there was much to decide in the latter case. She would meet her rival for Evan’s affections and attempt to extract answers from her.

  Ana had known about Brione, so it followed that she would also know why Evan had married her. Was it for financial reasons? She had assumed his father’s business was thriving but hadn’t bothered to ask, so she had no way of being sure. She did know that she had been left comfortably situated, at least insofar as finances went, but the origin of those finances was now open to question.

  God forbid that her fortune was even partly founded on disloyalty to the crown! She gasped and held a hand to her mouth, terrified that it might well have been. Evan had shown little interest in his father’s business but had taken to soldiering like a natural. And spying before that. When she asked, he was vague about the silk trade, saying that managers were handling the company’s day to day business. That was something Brione would have to look into. She had been putting off deciding what to do about her inheritance, thinking that selling up would be akin to throwing away Evan’s birthright. But it was obvious to her now that he’d had no real passion for it, hadn’t deserved it, and it would likely flounder without a strong hand at the helm.

  Brione had learned enough about the trade during her younger years at her father’s side, and knew she was capable of running the business herself. It would give her a purpose, but she doubted whether the workers or buyers would take a female seriously and she would be robbed blind—if that was not happening already. She had been far too lax, too trusting, she could quite see that now. Wallowing in self-pity instead of attending to what was important might well have cost her dearly, but all that was about to change.

  Someone tapped at the door and Brione, assuming it must be Rachel, bade her enter. But it was not Rachel. Brione stood, surprised to be confronted by Lady Murray.

  ‘I came to see if you have everything you need,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘Thank you. That is very kind but quite unnecessary.’ Brione greeted her visitor politely, spreading her hands. ‘As you can see, I have been made perfectly comfortable.’

  That explanation didn’t appear to satisfy Lady Murray, and she showed no immediate signs of quitting the room. ‘May I also enquire how the business you came her to conduct with my brother is proceeding?’

  Brione felt her cheeks warm, thinking that Lady Murray would be horrified if she knew the full details of the business that had occupied them earlier. Perhaps she suspected the attraction and had come here to warn Brione off. Not that any warning was necessary. Brione was well aware of her place in the pecking order, had no lasting interest in the duke, and resented this woman’s intrusion into her private affairs.

  ‘That, ma’am, is a question that you would be best advised to address to the duke. I am not at liberty to discuss it.’

  ‘Surely it cannot be that sensitive,’ she replied with a strained smile, clearly unaccustomed to having any request of hers declined, especially by a person whom she considered to be an inferior.

  ‘Please do not ask me to betray a confidence, Lady Murray,’ Brione said with an arch smile.

  ‘Shall you be staying with us for the entire week?’

  ‘That rather depends upon my reason for being here,’ she replied, thinking two could play at being evasive.

  Lady Murray stuck her nose in the air and sniffed indignantly, her anger not to have received a direct answer to a question she had no right to ask apparent. If the gesture was intended to make Brione express gratitude for the temporary roof over her head and the chance to mix with such exalted company then Lady Murray had miscalculated. Brione had endured more than enough put-downs of late and was not about to tolerate another from this pompous woman.

  ‘I should be interested to know what business you have with my brother that requires him to pay you such extravagant attention in public,’ she said haughtily.

  ‘Once again, ma’am, I must refer you to the duke for answers. But let me assure you that you have left me in no doubt that I am here under sufferance, that you look upon me as a social inferior and an inconvenience. It is not my intention to create difficulties, so I shall leave the moment my work here is complete.’ She offered the astonished Lady Murray, who was clearly not used to being on the receiving end of plain speaking, a brittle smile. ‘I hope that answer offers you some satisfaction.’

  Lady Murray’s expression softened, which didn’t surprise Brione. Bullies tended to back down when confronted. ‘You are a friend of Rachel’s and so, I hope, a friend of mine.’

  ‘Thank you, but I doubt very much whether our paths will cross again once I have left here, and you will not lose any sleep when the connection is severed.’

  Brione was aware that she had been impolite and that she had shocked her hostess. It couldn’t be helped. Lady Murray had come to her room with the specific purpose of putting Brione in her place, so she justified her behaviour by reminding herself that she had not been the one to set the tone for this conversation. She waited to see what her visitor would do next and was astonished when instead of reminding Brione of her place, Lady Murray let out a long sigh and sat in the chair that Brione had just vacated. Brione sat across from her, sensing a loneliness and fragility about the woman that she probably seldom displayed.

  ‘Whatever must you think of me?’ Lady Murray eventually asked.

  Brione blinked. ‘I think you have taken it upon yourself to protect your brother’s interests, which is laudable.’ Brione leaned forward. ‘He is rich, handsome and very well connected, and I dare say you are kept fully occupied acting as his gatekeeper. But let’s be clear, I am well aware of my roots and know what people are saying about me, never doubt it. Most of it is untrue or vastly exaggerated, but on one point you have my absolute assurance.’ Brione paused for effect. ‘I have no ambitions above my station.’

  ‘I have never seen Troy half so smitten before,’ she said, as though Brione hadn’t spoken. ‘He accuses me of interfering, but nothing could be further from the truth. I want his happiness above everything, as well as the continuation of the Alford line. A legitimate heir. I promised my father on his deathbed that I would make sure Troy remembered his duty.’

  ‘I am sure he knows what is expected of him.’

  ‘I am ten years Troy’s senior. Our parents were both dead by the time Troy reached sixteen. He was far too young to accede to the duchy, but he did so with the focused determination that he inherited from our father. I had recently married, but I didn’t feel I could leave him completely alone with all this responsibility. At least I could run his home and take care of his domestic arrangements.’

  ‘For which I don’t doubt that he is grateful.’ Brione was both fascinated and wary about Lady Murray’s sudden determination to be her friend. She had tried to intimidate Brione without success. Was she now attempting another ploy to distance her from Troy? Brione didn’t know her well enough to be sure.

  ‘My parents were desperate for another son. In these uncertain times they felt that o
ne was not enough, but alas my mother died in childbirth and my father succumbed to a fever not a year later.’

  ‘And you were left as the duke’s only close family member. It must have been a lonely time for you both. Especially him.’

  ‘It was, but I did my best to help him through it. Then he insisted upon purchasing a commission and I despaired. I honestly didn’t imagine that he would come through that wretched conflict unscathed.’

  ‘But he did, and now you are anxious to see him married. I can quite understand that. But, excuse me, has it occurred to you that after all he has seen and endured on the field of battle, the rather silly young ladies you have invited for him to look over may seem a little trivial?’

  Brione expected another explosion but instead Lady Murray gave a resigned nod. ‘Not sophisticated enough, I expect you mean.’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I am not well acquainted with the duke, but he creates the impression of being a gentleman who very much knows his own mind. He will not be browbeaten into making a choice against his instincts and you would be better advised to leave him to make that choice free from pressure. He is aware what is expected of him, I have no doubt. Knowing as much as I do about male stubbornness, he’s more likely to do what you want if you don’t make it quite so obvious that you want it.’

  Lady Murray laughed. ‘You are blessed with great good sense.’

  ‘It is easier to give wise advice when one’s own feelings and future are not involved.’

  ‘I can quite see now why Rachel speaks so highly of you, and I am sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. Please feel free to stay as long as you wish.’ She flapped a hand. ‘Not that you need my permission. This is Troy’s house. I shall not interfere again—but if, in the fullness of time, you can explain to me why you are here, it will satisfy my curiosity.’

  ‘You can be sure that I shall do so.’

  ‘Until later then.’ Lady Murray paused in the doorway. ‘I hope we can keep this conversation between ourselves and that you will not tell Troy about it. He gets cross when he thinks I have been meddling.’

  ‘Tell him we have been discussing his marital aspirations, or lack thereof?’ Brione widened her eyes and laughed. ‘Hardly!’

  Brione had barely had a moment to consider the implications behind Lady Murray’s visit before Gladys joined her, bringing with her hot water and the latest gossip from below stairs. She asked which gown Brione intended to wear that evening and laid it out. The next hour was spent in preparations and idle chatter with the obliging maid.

  Suitably garbed in a fetching gown of figured silver silk, she went to collect Rachel and they made their way down together.

  ‘How did it go this afternoon? Well, my dear, I saw how it went with the archery,’ Rachel said, chuckling. ‘The duke took his instruction duties very seriously. Everyone was talking about it, pretending to be scandalised, but you can be sure that there wasn’t a woman in the place who wouldn’t have changed places with you if they were given the opportunity. He really is delicious. Almost too good to be true. You are very lucky.’

  ‘Oh lud, I wish they were not—talking that is. I don’t know what came over him and I told him as much later. I am sure it had nothing to do with an attachment towards me and everything to do with his ploy to draw out the traitor, but he seldom bothers to tell me what he’s planning. Anyway, it prompted a visit to my room just now from your friend, Lady Murray.’ Brione grinned, even though she didn’t find the situation remotely amusing. ‘She seems to think that I led the duke astray with my wiles.’

  ‘Oh, Brione, I am so sorry!’ Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from laughing aloud as they reached the stairs and began walking down them. ‘I know you are not that way inclined. If anyone is leading anyone astray, it most certainly is not you. The duke is a very wicked man who has unjustly visited trouble upon you that will have an adverse effect upon your reputation.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Brione rolled her eyes. ‘My reputation is already irreparably damaged, thanks to the rumours about Evan’s activities. And as far as Lady Murray is concerned, when she realised that I wouldn’t be bullied, she backed down and we actually had quite a pleasant conversation.’

  ‘Then I am glad. She takes her familial responsibilities perhaps a little too seriously and hasn’t had an easy time of it, but she can be her own worst enemy at times. The duke is very much his own man and he exasperates her.’

  ‘Well, she knows now that she has nothing to fear from me. As to the other business, we haven’t made any headway as yet.’

  ‘How frustrating.’

  ‘Quite. Anyway, I trust you enjoyed the afternoon in the company of your Mr Kensley.’

  Rachel’s response was lost in the cacophony of noise as they reached the drawing room. Brione became aware of everyone looking her way, or so it felt, and her cheeks bloomed under the strain of the unwanted attention. Miss Frazer glowered at her maliciously, her brother looked angry and Captain Craig looked resigned.

  ‘Go away!’ she said when Rachel was claimed by one of the ladies and Troy drifted to her side. ‘Can’t you see what you have done?’

  ‘Me?’ He gave her a look of innocent surprise as he handed her a glass of champagne. ‘I don’t have the pleasure of understanding you.’

  ‘You understand me very well,’ she replied with asperity, ‘but I have no intention of embarrassing myself by telling you what you already know.’

  Troy chuckled and offered her his arm when dinner was announced. ‘I can’t!’ She shook her head emphatically, drawing astonished looks from those who witnessed the situation. ‘It will only make matters ten times worse. Besides, I promised…’

  ‘Promised who?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  ‘You cannot decline my offer. It would be very impolite.’

  ‘If you were aware of that then it was very ill-mannered of you to add to my embarrassment.’

  ‘Have pity on a desperate man.’

  She eyed him dispassionately, attempting to keep the laughter out of her voice. ‘There is absolutely nothing desperate about you, and it is beyond time that someone brought you down to size.’

  ‘Heartless female!’

  ‘Better to be considered heartless or ill-mannered than a lightskirt,’ she replied, reluctantly placing her hand on his sleeve when she realised that most conversations had stopped and just about everyone in the room was watching them with rapt fascination. It seemed that no woman had ever taken the powerful Duke of Alford publicly to task, and Brione extracted some satisfaction from that small victory.

  Troy led the procession into the dining room. ‘Who has dared to suggest that you are free with your favours?’ he asked.

  Brione let out a long sigh. ‘It doesn’t signify. At least I am no longer being talked about as the wife of a traitor. I suppose that is a small improvement.’

  ‘I am damned with faint praise,’ he said, chuckling as he held the chair for her at his right hand. She seated herself and settled her skirts to her satisfaction. Troy waited for the last of the ladies to take her chair and then sat down himself.

  ‘You don’t deserve any praise at all,’ she replied with asperity. ‘In fact, I imagine you make a habit out of creating gossip through your behaviour.’

  ‘I enjoy your society, and if that creates gossip then I cannot bring myself to apologise.’

  ‘I don’t know how to behave when you pay me compliments,’ she replied, sensing the sincerity behind his words and deciding to be equally transparent. ‘We would be better advised to continue disagreeing with one another. Then I will feel more comfortable and know precisely how to counter your outrageous remarks.’

  ‘Is it so long since anyone paid you a genuine compliment that it flusters you?’ he asked, looking rather taken aback by the possibility.

  ‘You mistake me for Miss Frazer. I neither seek compliments nor place much stock by them. They certainly don’t fluster me.’

 
‘I could never mistake you for Miss Frazer,’ Troy assured her.

  Brione waved the hand holding her wine glass in his direction. ‘There you go again, saying things that I find it difficult to fault you for.’

  ‘Then I am at least doing something right.’

  He fixed her with a disarmingly infectious smile and Brione couldn’t help reciprocating. Since she would be here beside him for the next two hours or more, she might as well enjoy herself. He couldn’t misbehave or lead her into temptation when seated at the head of his dining table and with most of his guests watching them and following their conversation with varying degrees of interest. Most seemed idly amused while several looked affronted, Miss Frazer in particular. Lady Murray’s expression was ambivalent. Lieutenant Vaughan sent them frequent glances that made Brione feel increasingly uncomfortable.

  Aware that private conversation would be impossible, Brione was saved from raising the embarrassing subject of their earlier sojourn in his library and attempting to justify her momentary lapse. On balance, she decided that was probably just as well. She imagined that any other experienced widow would have taken Troy’s momentary interest in her stride, either boldly suggesting that they take matters to their natural conclusion or laughing the interlude off as harmless amusement. He was not to know and she had no intention of telling him that her experience in such matters was woefully inadequate and that she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to behave.

  Troy changed the subject to her native Cambridge and asked intelligent questions about her inherited silk business; the same questions that she had asked herself earlier that day and which ought to have occurred to her long before then.

  ‘Do you intend to sell?’ he asked when she had spoken with passion on the subject for several minutes.

  ‘I haven’t yet decided. I did wonder about running it myself.’

  ‘I would advise against it.’ He held up a hand to ward off her indignant protest. ‘Not because you lack the ability but because the men you deal with, buyers and workers alike, will think that you do and will attempt to swindle you.’