Castled: Duke Society Series

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Castled: Duke Society Series Page 2

by Robinson, Gina


  I led Noah to the sofa and brushed aside a scattering of ribbons and torn wrapping paper to make room for us to sit. "Oh, that's right. I forgot you have a half sister, too."

  "Yeah. Easy enough to do. She's Mom's age. I've never met her, and that's fine with me. She blamed Mom for breaking up her parents' marriage. And hated Mom even more for marrying her daddy. Mom's never talked about it, but there was some nasty shit that went on."

  "Your mom knows about your dad and brother?"

  "Yeah."

  "How's she taking it?" My impression from the little his mom, Carol, had ever said around me about his dad was that she'd rest a little easier if he was gone. I had the impression he wasn't a nice man and never had been.

  "She'd never say, but I get the sense she's relieved. Though she would never say anything bad about him to me, she was afraid of my father. That's why she left him and came back home to Seattle. And never pushed him for child support."

  "And put you in daycare where we met as babies." I slid my feet beneath me, took Noah's arm, and snuggled up next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. "He did us a favor, anyway. One thing to be grateful for. I'm not surprised by Carol's reaction. I barely remember her mentioning him, but I always got the same feeling—she was afraid of him."

  "Word is sis is pissed. She'd like the title for one of her boys."

  "Your family is perfectly lovely, Noah." I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling better and better with him near. "How could I even think of refusing you? They're a temptation all in themselves. Hearing about them makes me feel so much better about my family. And my lucky escape from wedded misery. Watch your backside, Noah. If your sister takes after your father…"

  "And I have no doubt she does." Noah squeezed me. "Happy to cheer you up. That's why I'm here, birthday girl." Noah laughed. "But please don't insult me by calling them family. Mom and Bruce are family."

  "How did you find out about your dad and brother's, er, demise? Did someone from the England come with a big ceremonial sword and earl you?" I joked.

  "Earl me?"

  "Like knight you."

  "Uh, no. Nothing so dramatic. With impeccable timing, a British lawyer came to my office to deliver the news right after I came out of that fabulous all-hands meeting where the founders announced there would be no IPO. They'd sold our happy little unicorn startup to a big corporation. Yay." He waved his fist. He even did that with a certain sardonic air.

  "Oh, Noah." I hugged his arm tighter.

  The founders selling out their precious startup was the real tragedy for Noah. That must have hit him hard.

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner? What a horrendous thing to happen the day before your birthday! To think you were going to make a life goal and be a millionaire just before thirty and then have your dreams dashed the day before?" I swallowed hard and stared into my lap. "And I made it worse. I should have thrown you a big party with a black birthday cake—"

  "You were busy with your wedding. I asked you not to make a big deal over my birthday. You know I'm not big into them."

  "It was selfish of me. And then I forgot. I have a present around here for you somewhere." I looked around the apartment wildly, trying to remember what I'd done with it. It seemed an eon ago.

  Noah patted my hand. "It can wait. I understand. It's okay."

  "What a pair we make," I said. "Thirty and depressed."

  "Speak for yourself." He leaned his head against mine. "I'm not depressed at all."

  That sounded like Noah. He probably already had feelers out at other startups, looking for a way to get in on the ground floor again. Like he had before when other startups he'd worked at had failed or gone corporate. Noah was scrappy. And optimistic. He wouldn't let a setback get him down. And why should he mourn a father and brother who'd always acted as if he didn't exist?

  "Good for you," I said. "I wish I had your strength." I swallowed hard. "I have to confess, I was so upset when I learned the truth about Christopher and gave his ring back. I needed to talk to someone, and you were the one. I shouldn't have called you at work. I should have waited. I should have called someone else—"

  "You should have called me," he said. "Exactly like you did."

  "No IPO," I said, as the full magnitude of realization dawned on me. Noah had been working to be a millionaire by thirty since we were in college. The IPO of the startup he worked at was supposed to be his ticket over the million-dollar net worth mark. But if the founders had sold the company… "No millions?"

  "No millions," he said, sounding almost sad for the first time. "Our potential shares of stock transfer over into stock in the big company who bought us. Pennies on what should have been dollars. I'll be lucky to come out of this with several hundred thousand dollars. And only then if I can hang on for another five years while our fun startup goes big corporate."

  Noah hated the feeling of big corporate. He'd never last five years.

  I inhaled deeply and let go of Noah's arm long enough to scoop the half-eaten birthday cake up from the floor and hand him my fork. "Happy crappy birthdays to us. Here. You need this as much as I do, my lord."

  He took the fork and took a bite. "Tuxedo cake. From your favorite bakery. Nice. Your mom?"

  I nodded. "To sum up, no wedding, no millions. Neither of our goals met. Foiled on the eve of—or in your case, on—our very birthdays. We were this close!" I showed him with my fingers.

  "Not exactly."

  "Oh, that's right. You have a title, at least. What are you earl of? What do I call you now?" I smiled at him.

  "Duke will do." He took another bite of cake. "This is good. Tuxedo is the best. Whoever invented it is brilliant. Why choose between chocolate and vanilla?"

  I cocked my head and frowned, caught on the casual way he threw the duke title around. "Duke? How are you a duke? You know that's different than an earl, right?"

  "Yes, Miss Anglophile, I do. As well as being American and Canadian, I am a British citizen as well. I am an earl. But, apparently, I'm also a duke now."

  I stared at him in disbelief. "Your dastardly father was a duke, too, and never told you? Did he sell the dukedom, as well? Are you also in line for the throne?"

  Noah's face lit up. "Not that I know of, but I'd never rule it out. But no, I'm obviously not a royal duke. And no, my old man was never a duke."

  "Then how?"

  "I'm getting to that," Noah said. "Apparently, he'd been in line to be a duke, too, but died hours short of the title. There was another death in my family recently—an ancient old duke that was my great something or other. His lawyer explained it to me."

  "The lawyer who told you about your father and brother?"

  "Yes."

  "He wasn't sent by them?"

  "No. Mr. Thorne is the late duke's lawyer. Thorne explained to me that the duke had had other heirs between Dad and the title. They passed away unexpectedly since you and I were in college. Which, unknown to me, put Dad and my brother in line to the dukedom, and then me. My dad and brother were killed just hours before the old duke died, making me both earl and duke at the same time."

  I couldn't help laughing. "Oh, the deliciousness of it all. My best friend is an earl and a duke! So now you have two worthless titles—"

  "Not so fast." Noah got a wicked twinkle in his eyes. "The earldom is just a title. As you know, Dad sold the family estate years before I was born to buy the farm. But he hadn't gotten his hands on the dukedom. The dukedom is worth—wait for it—hundreds of millions. Nearly a billion."

  I gasped. My eyes went wide. "You're almost a billionaire by thirty? Noah!"

  He nodded.

  I threw my arms around him and hugged him with such startling force that he was caught off guard. I drove him against the back of the sofa. "Oh, Noah. That's fabulous."

  "Yeah," he said. "You're hugging the new Duke of Hardison. You can address me as your grace. Or just duke."

  "Now you're Grace," I teased. "I think I'll stick with Noah."

  "G
ood plan." He kissed the top of my head. "Unfortunately, there's a catch."

  I froze. "A catch?" I frowned. "There's always a catch, I suppose. Like in a wicked fairytale? On your fortieth birthday you'll prick your finger on the steering wheel of your prized collectible Aston Martin and only true love's kiss will bring you back?" I pulled back far enough to look him in the eye to see if he was teasing.

  "You're not far off."

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "The title's mine, regardless," he said. "But the money and the estate come not with a curse, but with conditions."

  "Conditions? That sounds ominous," I said, feeling leery. "Cue the dramatic music. What kind of 'conditions'?"

  Noah suddenly became very serious and the mask went up. "As Thorne explained it to me, the late duke, who everyone called Hardly, desperately wanted the estate to remain with the duke and the family for the foreseeable future. The terms, let's call them, are to ensure just that.

  "Estates can no longer be entailed, which prevent the current owner from selling them. Without any conditions, I could inherit the estate and sell it, like my father did his. The estate is worth, as I said, a lot of money on paper. But most of the assets are land and holdings, not liquid assets. According to Thorne, the property is a challenge to keep up. It's a midsized business that needs to be run at a profit if it's going to stay in the family."

  "Oh." I was beginning to see where this was going. "I guess that makes sense from the old duke's standpoint."

  "Yeah. Apparently he was proud he kept the estate intact through his lifetime. He faced challenging times—a world war and a period of high taxation. The nobility losing their influence."

  I could almost see the weight and responsibility for the estate settle on his shoulders. And yet he looked excited.

  "There's been a Marston duke on the estate for nearly a thousand years. There's great dishonor, in Hardly's mind, in being the duke who loses the estate. He doesn't want to be the duke whose heir loses it, either. To him, that's defeat. Which is why he set up the terms I have to agree to that prevent it." Noah got a faraway look. "If I'm wily enough, I might be able to find a way around them."

  I was suspicious and nervous now. "What are the terms, Noah?"

  "I have to live on the estate for a year and turn a profit or I forfeit everything."

  I couldn't breathe. I felt Noah slipping away from me to a foreign world. I couldn't imagine him not being near, right here for me when I needed him. Like now. I couldn't live through the death of my dreams and the embarrassment of calling off the wedding without Noah. But this opportunity for him was too big for him to refuse, or fail at.

  "Those are some huge, challenging terms." I smiled at him, trying to look encouraging. "But I have complete faith you're up to the challenge. Selfishly, it's me I'm worried about. You're going to leave me and live in the U.K.?"

  Noah cupped my chin. "No, Gray. I'm asking you to come with me, as my duchess. Do you not remember me down on one knee asking you to marry me a few minutes ago?"

  My eyes went wide. "You were serious?"

  He dropped his hand from my chin. "Am serious. There are a few more conditions. Get married. Produce an heir." He gave me a wry look.

  "Produce an heir," I repeated numbly.

  I was in shock. Noah was really asking me to marry him. And the idea was actually enticing. Maybe it was the circumstances, the breakup with Christopher the pathological liar. Calling off my dream wedding. Maybe it was turning thirty, but I wasn't rejecting the idea out of hand by any means.

  Was I really considering this? My pulse raced. England. A duchess. Far away from this mess. Married by thirty after all.

  "I have a little more time for the heir. There are some special conditions with that one. There may be a way out." Noah sucked in a deep breath and bowed his head. "I'm in a tight spot here, Gray. This is the chance of a lifetime. For us. Come with me on this adventure. Walk away from this sucky birthday and that dick Christopher—"

  "Yes." Now that I'd said it, I felt better. Relieved. Determined. Excited. On a new and unexpected path. I'd made up my mind and it felt good.

  Noah stared at me. "Yes?" His brow furrowed, but I sensed something just below the surface. He was excited. He was having a hard time not breaking into a smile. "You don't want to think it over? It's a lot to ask."

  "Yes." I relaxed. The unhappiness of the last few weeks eased away.

  Noah looked at me suspiciously. "I haven't finished pleading and making my case."

  "Do you want to plead?" I bumped him playfully with my shoulder. "'Cause I can listen to pleading if I have to."

  "No. But I make a good case and I have a speech all planned out."

  I let out a sigh of happiness. For the first time in weeks, as I looked around my messy condo with the remnants of my failed engagement all around me, I was at peace.

  "Gray?" Noah looked at me with amusement and relief. "Are you actually happy? Have I done my job and cheered you up?"

  "I'm deliriously happy. You and me on an adventure." I sat up. "Get those glasses and the wine. Let's toast our engagement."

  His eyes narrowed. "Are you marrying me on the rebound?"

  "Probably."

  "And to stick it to Christopher? And placate your ego? Get your sense of self back?"

  "Stick it to Christopher? No." I felt lighter by the moment. "Ego—very possibly. I always dreamed of being a princess." I winked at him. "A duchess is pretty close. As close as I'm likely to get." A bubble of laughter rose in my throat. This was ridiculous. Me, a duchess! Married to my best friend.

  I wrapped my arms loosely around Noah's neck and met his eye. "Years ago, back in college, when I was coming off that horrible breakup, I told you that if I turned thirty and hadn't found a guy I wanted to spend my life with, I'd rather spend it with my best friend than alone. I was pretty smart for a college kid. I've just been lied to for two years by a sociopath, a pathological liar who wasn't any of the things he said he was. It will be a long time before I can trust anyone but you."

  I bit my lip. "But you, my dear best friend, could do a lot better than me. Especially now that you're an almost-billionaire duke. You could have your pick of the ladies now. Is this what you really want?"

  "Trust my future to a woman who's only after my title and money?" He shook his head. "You know me better than that. I don't trust anyone but you."

  "You're really serious?"

  He nodded. "There's a dukedom at stake. If I don't accept this, apparently the title goes extinct. Nearly a thousand years of Marston family history down the drain. I will have let down my family line, been the duke who lost the estate and ended a dynasty."

  "Is that your speech?" I asked.

  "That's what Thorne sat me down and told me, very seriously."

  "Well, then. We can't let that happen. We never let each other down. I don't intend to start now." I paused, trying to frame my words. "I'll do my best, but I really don't know anything about running an estate. I'm not the best candidate for that job." I expected him to say that we'd figure it out together, like we always did. I leaned my forehead against his.

  "Actually, you're the perfect candidate for the job. I'll explain later." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring box from an exclusive jewelry store, the engagement specialists. "At the risk of being a dick who doesn't let his fiancée pick her own ring."

  That was a jab at Christopher. And Christopher deserved it.

  "But we don't have much time," Noah said, opening the box. "That's my excuse. I took a chance—"

  My breath caught as I stared at the ring. He had been completely serious all along. A lump welled in my throat. This was the ring I would have picked out for myself. The beautiful ring I'd dreamed about and longed for. One very similar to one I'd shown Noah when I was sure Christopher was going to propose. Only this one was even prettier and more elegant. It had more diamond power.

  "It's perfect." My gaze met Noah's. "You remembered?"

 
He shrugged. "I know what you like."

  "You know me too well." I blinked back tears of joy.

  He took my hand and slid the ring on my finger, watching me while I admired it. It felt good to have a ring on my finger again. Surprisingly good that it was Noah's.

  "Best birthday present ever." I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Best birthday save ever."

  "For both of us." His eyes were dark as he studied me. "Sealed with a kiss on the cheek. Is that all a guy gets for his trouble?" He winked.

  I laughed. "This…shift…in our relationship is going to take some getting used to."

  He grinned. "Yeah."

  We'd never had a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. There was one time, years ago, when we came close. But the moment passed.

  "Now that that's settled. Want to see why I think you'll make the perfect duchess partner?"

  Chapter 3

  Noah got up from the sofa and retrieved the messenger bag he'd left by the door. When he rejoined me on the sofa, he set the bag next to him and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "Want to see what business is going to save us? You're going to be perfect for it."

  "Stop teasing me," I said.

  "Here. Look at this." He handed me an eight-by-ten glossy photo. "This is the estate. That's our castle on the hill. And this—acres and acres of apple orchards, Gray. We even have an old, abandoned cidery on the estate. Hardly tried to make it a winery for a while several decades ago. It's been shuttered since that failed."

  My pulse raced as I took the photo from Noah. "Orchards?" As I studied the photo, my mouth fell open. Beautiful, beautiful apple orchards. Acres and acres of them, just as he'd said. And a feudal castle on a hill behind them.

  "The Duke of Hardison's seat is in the heart of hard cider country, Gray." His eyes, and even his voice, danced.

  "Ohmygosh." My eyes misted over. I swallowed a lump. "How did you do it? This is perfect."

  "I know. Now you see why I need you for my duchess. In addition to you being my best friend, and the only person I really trust, with your experience growing up on a working orchard in apple country, your food science degree, your ciderology minor, and your work here in a cidery, you're perfect. If you refused to marry me, I was going to try to hire you as my ciderologist and brew master." He winked.

 

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