A Duke to Elude: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 1)

by Wendy May Andrews

  “You shall be perfectly fine, Your Grace, I’m sure. And a year is a long time for a girl of that age. She could be nearly a different person by then.”

  James remembered her telling him just how much she had changed, and his hand tightened over hers where it lay on his elbow. Her thoughts must have been leading in the same direction. Her direct, blue gaze met his briefly.

  “Have you finalized your pursuit of Prescott?”

  “My pursuit? I’m not pursuing the bounder. I’m trying to contain the damage his actions may cause.”

  Her slight puff of laughter made James’ heart squeeze a little, but he concentrated on her words.

  “My apologies if I used the incorrect verb, Your Grace,” she began, her tone dry. “But I meant to inquire how it goes, regardless of what you’d like to call it. I feel involved, as you know, and wondered how it was progressing.”

  James once again patted her soft hand. It brought a strange, comforting pleasure to have her hand on his arm, but he did not allow it to distract him. “I understand your sense of involvement. It hasn’t concluded, unfortunately. I will tell you everything when it has.”

  “Very well,” she acknowledged with a gracious bow of her head. “And from that, am I to infer that you do not expect me to have need of concern from him?”

  James frowned over her words. “Have you been fearful all this time?” he asked, soft but fierce.

  She shrugged slightly. “I’ve been in fear for three years, Your Grace. Your questions merely stirred it up a little but didn’t really change anything. Do not trouble yourself.”

  ∞∞∞

  Rosabel’s throat felt tight. A part of her wanted to bask in the time spent with the duke. But the rest of her was trying to remain convinced that he was merely a friendly acquaintance.

  Her stomach had plummeted when Wexford had asked her about the other man. She most certainly didn’t wish to discuss one with the other. But the duke’s questions had thrown into stark light her ambivalence about Mr. Northcott.

  Rosabel couldn’t identify clearly what was wrong with her. She had wanted to find a gentleman to wed who was not a peer. Mr. Northcott should be perfect. Of course, she had also wanted to find a love match. But maybe that was only something that existed in fairy tales. That thought was why she was continuing to allow the man to court her. Bel had realized that in the past she had not allowed enough time to actually get to know a gentleman before she rejected the possibility of a match. Of course, she could excuse that with her determination to not wed a noble. Well, now she was presented with the mere mister she claimed to prefer, she had to allow time for deeper feelings to develop. But thus far, her heart appeared singularly unaffected in connection with Mr. Northcott. Unlike Wexford, she admitted to herself with a sinking sensation.

  Her reactions to Wexford would lead her to think she was coming down with an illness. But oftentimes those very same feelings were pleasant, which lead her to believe that it was not a deadly disease. The fact, too, that it was seemingly selective also led her to think it was Wexford rather than her actual heart being ill.

  But knowing that did not help her dilemma in the least. She did not wish to have a tendre for the duke. She had no aspirations toward being a duchess, even if it would give her a broader platform to relieve her newfound philanthropic impulses. Not that she actually considered that Wexford was considering her for the position, of course. In fact, she rather thought he was taking her suggestion and giving further thought to the suitability of Miss Perkins or Miss Bridgestone. And he had even led out Hilaria twice at the ball the night before.

  No, Wexford was not courting her, Mr. Northcott was, and she needed to try to be excited about that, Bel reminded herself.

  “It’s a lovely day,” she finally commented.

  “Just because I don’t want to tell you about my investigation doesn’t mean we have to devolve to discussing the weather,” Wexford complained, inducing her to laughter.

  “Well, Your Grace, you cannot have it both ways. We are either confidantes or we are acquaintances.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, my dear girl.”

  Bel’s stomach fluttered, but she quelled the sensation.

  “We are doing you a great favour with Lady Katherine,” she reminded him, keeping her tone droll so he would know she was jesting.

  “I cannot call it a great favour, my lady. I would never have taken her to a balloon ascension, nor Astley’s. How did you convince your mother? I thought she would be opposed to both of those excursions.”

  “Isn’t it the strangest thing?” Rosabel countered. “It seems as though she has given up on all her scruples. Perhaps she is just feeling overrun with unwed females and is willing to try anything,” Rosabel mused with laughter in her voice. “We didn’t even have to beg. In fact, I would say, Astley’s might have even been her idea.”

  “You shock me.”

  Rosabel laughed, relaxing for the first time in a week. She didn’t have time to think about why but determined to enjoy the moment.

  “How are you faring with your sister in Town? Has it completely interfered with your bachelor ways?” she teased.

  “Thanks to you and your sisters, not in the least.”

  “Really?” she asked. “So, you would have been at the balloon ascension anyway?”

  Bel was gratified by his loud laughter rather than hushing him like the first time they had spent time together. Part of the reason may have been because they were more secluded, she reasoned, but the other might be because she actually considered him a friend now, which was silly. She had told herself numerous times already that a lady could not be friends with a duke. But here they were.

  “Very well, perhaps my life has been impacted. But if I had been left on my own to entertain her, it would have been far worse, and she would be having a dreadful time.” He paused for a moment and Bel could feel the heat of his gaze, but she didn’t turn to meet it. “Although, I must say, perhaps it would have been better to not allow her such a good time. I fear there will now be no preventing her return for the Season next year.”

  Rosabel smiled, watching his sister and her own skipping along like children. “As I said, a lot can happen between now and next year. But she does seem to be having a wonderful time.” She turned to the duke suddenly, surprised to find his gaze still riveted to her, not on the girls as she had expected. It almost interrupted her train of thought. “I must actually thank you, though, for bringing her to us. It seems to have done Hilaria a world of good. It might not be completely Katherine’s influence, but my sister seems to be almost a different person this week from last.”

  Wexford suddenly looked concerned. “That seems to be a theme in your family.”

  Rosabel, rather than being stung by his words, was warmed by them. “True, but in Hil’s case, she seems much improved.”

  “Is it possible she is being courted?”

  “Surely, we’d know about it.”

  Wexford shrugged.

  “What do you know that you aren’t telling me?” she demanded, causing the duke to laugh once more as he held up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Nothing, I swear it to you.”

  Rosabel was just about to pursue the topic when her gaze was arrested by the sight of Lord Prescott ahead of them. He had been in a small group of his acquaintances, but he broke away from them to bear down upon Wexford and Rosabel.

  “I knew it,” he snarled as he got near to them. “I knew there had to be a reason you were suddenly gunning for me.”

  “Restrain yourself, Lord Prescott,” Wexford commanded in a firm, but low voice, clearly trying to prevent a scene.

  “What has this doxy told you to turn you against me? You cannot believe a word she says. She’s got a screw loose in her upper works besides.”

  “You’d best control yourself, Prescott, before I’m forced to do it for you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  James could feel Rosabel’s tremors even though her
face was as serene as a ceramic doll. Her hand on his arm was clenched almost to the point of pain. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but that would do nothing to stem the scene that was unfolding before them.

  “Is she your bit of muslin, Wexford? Is that why you’re taking her word against mine? She wasn’t nearly so friendly when I offered,” Prescott sneered.

  A quick glance toward her assured James that Rosabel, so pale that even her lips were losing their colour, was deeply affected by the other man’s words. That was the last straw for James. He pulled Rosabel behind him and was about to plant the man a facer when he somewhat came to his senses. A quick glance around told him that while they were somewhat private and definitely out of earshot of others, there were enough people in the vicinity that a scandal would ensue if he were to strike the other man.

  “Name your seconds, Prescott,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice coming out sounding more like a growl.

  “What? No, Wexford, you cannot do this.”

  The other man had paled, but he didn’t shrink back. “Listen to your lady, Wexford. Don’t do anything foolish.”

  “You are the one who is a fool, Prescott. You have insulted Lady Rosabel, for no reason. I will have satisfaction.”

  “Wexford, don’t do this.” He could hear the soft voice imploring him from behind, but James kept his focus on the man in front of him.

  Prescott spat at his feet, adding insult upon insult. James’ nostrils flared, and it was all he could do to contain the violence within him.

  “The doxy isn’t worth it, Wexford. But if you still want satisfaction. Send your seconds to meet with mine,” Prescott sneered before sauntering away.

  The small but firm grip on his arm kept James from following after Prescott.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Rosabel demanded as he finally turned his attention toward her. She kept her voice low, but her anger seethed through, nonetheless. “My reputation will be in tatters if you fight a duel with Prescott.”

  “Why would you think that? How would there be an association?” James demanded before insisting, “Not that it would become known, of course.”

  “Wexford, don’t be daft. Did you not count the number of avidly attentive eyes fixed upon us just now? It could hardly be missed that you had shoved me so delicately behind you. Even now, my family are rushing to see what is happening.”

  “When I have the man prosecuted for his attempts to disrupt the government, there will be no question of your reputation.”

  He could hear her sigh but had no idea what she was distressed about. She soon let him know as soon as she had tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm and prodded him into walking again. James noticed her worried glances at their family members who were watching them curiously.

  “How long do you suppose that is going to take?” Her raised eyebrows informed him that she questioned his sanity. James would have laughed if the matter wasn’t so very serious. He could also see her point.

  “I’m not sure how long it will take. Surely, no more than another week at the very longest.”

  “By then I will be shunned from Society, and my sisters and I will be back home on our estate. I cannot say that I would mind overmuch if it were just myself. But I cannot allow you to do this to my sisters. I know you’re going to spout some nonsense about your honour as a gentleman now that you have challenged him, but Prescott is a rotten soul. Your honour will be more besmirched by harming my sisters than by not fighting a duel with the likes of him.”

  “But what of your honour? He insulted you vilely.”

  “They were just words, Wexford. You’re the only one besides me who heard them, and we both know they aren’t true.”

  “What if he bandies them about elsewhere?”

  “Then it will be my father’s duty to deal with them, not yours.”

  “How is that better?”

  “Because then it is a father protecting his daughter, not a gentleman involving himself in the matters of someone with whom he has no personal connection.”

  Despite the fact that she was lecturing him fiercely, James suddenly realized that he very much wanted to have a personal connection with her. He had, in fact, wanted that for some time now, even though he had been trying to pretend otherwise.

  “Very well, then, my lady. The only thing to do, then, is to become betrothed.”

  For the first time since Prescott had come into view, Rosabel laughed.

  “Now, I am certain that you’ve lost your mind. You would become betrothed to me just so you could fight a duel with Prescott? I had no idea you could be so very blood thirsty.”

  “This has nothing to do with Prescott,” James returned firmly.

  “The timing is somewhat suspicious if that’s the case.”

  “I understand this is probably not the romantic declaration that young girls dream about, for that I apologize profusely for the timing, but this is most certainly not out of a desire to fight Prescott. In fact, if you’ll marry me, I’ll drop all thought of him.” He cleared his throat suddenly and stammered. “Well, not entirely, of course, because the man still needs to be prosecuted. But that will not be personal in the least.”

  “Why?”

  James frowned over her one-word demand.

  “Why what? Why would I drop the thought of dueling with him? Or why must I still prosecute him?”

  “Why would you want to become betrothed with me? And how would that change the fact that the bounder said vile things to me?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t change the fact. He did say vile things. But I would be so happy that I wouldn’t care.”

  Rosabel stared at him, examining his eyes as though searching for something.

  “Did you hit your head this morning, Your Grace? You aren’t making sense, I’m sorry to say.”

  James finally grinned at her. “Rosabel, my dear girl, can we stop marching forward? I know my timing is dreadful. I’m well aware that you have no interest in being a duchess. I do hope you haven’t given your heart to Northcott because that truly would break mine. But if you could please consider it, I would be the luckiest man in all the world if you would consider becoming my wife.”

  “You actually would go through with it?”

  Now, James wondered if he had perhaps hit his head, as he didn’t understand her question even though it seemed she was still speaking the King’s English. His confusion must have been evident, as she softened her tone and began to look bashful.

  “You said if we became betrothed it would make matters different with Prescott. I thought you meant for it to be a sham, to salvage my reputation in case he spread his lies.”

  “No! Not a sham, at all. I am most sincere in hoping you would do me the great honour of being my wife.” James glanced around the park and shook his head at his own foolishness.

  Without another word, he grabbed her hand firmly and set off for the hedgerow he could see up ahead. It was sufficiently tall to provide a modicum of privacy. When they were finally at least a little screened off from others he spoke again.

  “I should have approached your father first. I’m making a complete mull of things. Even that should assure you of just how lost to all sense my feelings for you have made me.”

  He heard her catch her breath and stopped speaking. James stared at her, worrying that he had made matters even worse somehow as, for the first time in their acquaintance, he saw tears well up in her eyes.

  ∞∞∞

  “What sort of feelings?” Bel could hear how strangled her voice sounded, but there was nothing that could be done about that, so she ignored it. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. She didn’t think she even blinked. Which was a good thing, as she was sure her tears would start to flow if she did. That was ridiculous in and of itself, considering she hadn’t cried over anything in more than two and a half years. Why would she want to cry in a moment like this?

  “I have discovered that I am quite in love with you, Ros
abel Sherton. I know it is not fashionable, and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my declaration. I can see that I have, and I am sorry for it, but it was just in answer to your question of why marrying you would make all the difference. I love you so much that I would be deliriously happy if you were to agree to marry me. And, of course, I would still be furious with Prescott for what he said, but I couldn’t really blame him. It is entirely possible he might have sensed my love for you and misinterpreted it. But it wouldn’t matter because I would have you. And you would have the protection of my name.”

  “Why did Prescott’s vile words make you suddenly think you love me? Is it some wayward sense of chivalry? That I am some helpless little female that needs your protection?”

  “Of all the women I know, I’m fairly certain you are the least helpless, for one thing,” James replied instantly. “For another, it wasn’t Prescott’s words that made me think I love you. They just made me feel like I could no longer contain my feelings.” He sighed heavily, as though weighed by a great burden. “I know you don’t want to be a duchess, and I’m sorry to ask it of you, but it cannot be helped if you are to become my wife. It was because of knowing you don’t want my life that I have been trying to convince myself that I don’t have feelings for you. But it is impossible. I do have them, and I’m not some callow youth that will be able to transfer those feelings quickly to someone else.”

  He sighed again, tightening his grasp on her hands. A delicious thrill shot through Rosabel. One tear trailed down her cheek, and James groaned in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, my dear girl. I should have kept it to myself and just planted the rotter a facer instead of doing any of this. But I’m not sorry for loving you.” He looked away for a moment, indecision written upon his face. “But what about if I gave up sitting in the House? Would you be able to consider it then? I have a few very reliable clerks that would probably be able to represent me. I could maybe just come periodically. You wouldn’t even have to come with me. We could spend our time travelling around to my estates, and you could help me decide which one to like the best. And we could live there always. You would never have to leave if you don’t want to. Just, please, say you’ll marry me. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t regret it.”