The Bachelor Duke (The Bachelor Series Book 1)

by Cecilia Rene

  The whispers grew at the word mother. Society was so enamored with the fact that Remington was so close to Mother Di.

  He scanned the room, spotting Heartford and Windchester. Turning to the happy older couple, he gave Mother Di a warm smile. “Mother Di, Prescott, I must bid you farewell.” He gave them a stiff bow and turned to leave.

  “Surely, you would not leave without partaking in another dance with a certain lady?” Mother Di asked with a hopeful tone.

  “Now, Mother Di, do not try your hands at matchmaking. You know how I detest it. Besides, it would be improper for me to dance with a lady I am not acquainted with twice, would it not?” He awarded her with a knowing look.

  “Who has time for the rules of society? Besides, you are friends with her father, are you not?” She challenged him.

  They stared at each other, both waiting for the other to withdraw, but neither moved until Remington broke. He berated himself that even after all these years, he couldn’t stare her down.

  David patted him on the back. “You know your mother always gets her way. Why don’t you do what she’s asking now to make it easier?”

  “I’m glad someone in this family knows the rules.” Mother Di took her husband’s hand affectionately.

  “Yes, well, he has to listen to you. I, on the other hand, do not. Good night, Mother Di.” Remington bowed one last time before rushing off to find his companions.

  He moved quickly, afraid she would try to interfere with his attempt to avoid the lady in question. There had been other eligible young ladies that Mother Di hoped would catch his special attention, but none did.

  Until now.

  Remington found Heartford and Windchester speaking to the young lady who entered with Lady Olivia. He could only assume that it was Lady Julia St. John. Her brown hair was up in an elaborate style that framed a pretty face.

  She stared up at Heartford with awe and wonder. Her likeness to her cousin was very slight, but Remington could see the familial resemblance in the shape of their eyes and their mannerisms.

  “Ahh, Karrington, allow me to introduce you to Lady Julia St. John.” Heartford’s gaze never left Lady Julia.

  She dipped into a small curtsey. “Your Grace, it is an honor to have your presence in our home.” Her smile was kind as she awaited his reply.

  Giving her a nod, Remington gave her a welcoming grin. “Lady Julia, it is I who am honored to be invited to such an event. Congratulations on your coming out.”

  “Do not let him deceive you. We practically had to twist his arm to attend.” Heartford leaned toward her conspiratorially.

  Before another word was spoken, Bromswell and Lady Olivia joined the small group. Remington’s entire body stiffened as Lady Olivia stood beside him. The heat from her body engulfed him. Her sweet scent—a mixture of lavender, rose water, and what seemed to be a light touch of citrus—took over his senses.

  He found himself wanting to take hold of her and bury his nose in the sweet swell of her breasts. The effect that she was having on him unnerved him to the point that he desperately needed to escape her very presence.

  Images from a long-ago night invaded his thoughts, but instead of rich red hair, he saw beautiful blonde. Gray eyes replaced blue. His heart seized within his chest. He took a deep breath, clearing his head so that he could speak.

  Turning to Heartford and Windchester, Remington gave them a stiff bow. “I shall take my leave.” He turned to the two ladies. “Ladies, if you will excuse me. Please accept my congratulations on your coming out.”

  He left abruptly, striding from the ballroom, not daring another glance at Lady Olivia and her companion. He couldn’t save her from herself if Bromswell was the type of person she wished for a husband. She was of no concern of his. Her fate was her own.

  Livie watched as the Duke of Karrington left the ball. The muscles in his back flexed through his waistcoat as he walked briskly away. Her lower abdomen felt as if it was tied in knots. The sense of dread returned. It seemed that every time he departed from her presence, she was filled with trepidation at the thought that it would be the last time.

  Staring at the exit, she tried to plaster a smile on her face as Baron Bromswell spoke of his estate in Rochester as if it were a royal palace. She turned and tried to give him her full attention, knowing she should be happy he had sought her out. Yet, something dark lurked behind his happy disposition, the sneer at the corner of his lips never formed a complete smile.

  “May I call on you tomorrow, Lady Olivia?” Baron Bromswell’s gaze roamed her body solicitously. His predatory eyes held something unnerving within them that made her want to protect herself from him.

  Her face was tight as she tried to hide her revulsion at the obvious perusing of her person.

  “Thank you, Lord Bromswell, that will be lovely.” She feigned politeness while wanting nothing more than to flee from him.

  To deny him outright would be rude, so she gave him her best smile, the one her mother taught her to give despite how she was feeling. Although, she was aware that she was in want of a husband, she knew, without a doubt, that she would not accept Baron Bromswell. Indeed, she believed she had been ruined for any eligible gentleman for the foreseeable future, all because of one meeting with the Duke of Karrington.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to center herself, knowing that any future with the duke was futile. She placed a welcoming smile on her face, one that said she was willing and open for a husband. She knew she couldn’t outright refuse the baron, especially with no other real prospects. Perhaps she was mistaken about him and passing judgment too quickly.

  She stood beside Julia who happily conversed with Lord Heartford, enraptured in his every word. Livie noticed several gentlemen now openly staring at her. It made her fidget nervously. She rushed to straighten her dress to make sure she was presentable. Her father walked toward her with the Earl of Chamberlain. Tucking in her tummy, she held her head high, trying to be more inviting.

  Focusing on the conversation around her, she turned to the jovial Earl of Windchester. She took note of his large size, but his friendly charm made her feel as if she’d known him her entire life.

  “How has Hempstead kept you two lovely creatures from town all these years?” Windchester gave Olivia and Julia a questioning look filled with curiosity.

  Julia perked up, happy to answer. “I wanted to come out last Season, but Livie broke her foot by falling off her horse, and we had to delay an entire year.”

  Livie withstood the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn’t as if she had fallen on purpose. She had not enjoyed being an invalid for nearly four months. At the end, she was happy to delay being paraded around like a bright peacock and having people analyze her on her looks alone.

  “Lady Olivia, may I introduce Lord Chamberlain.” Her father’s voice interrupted her internal thoughts and the need to throttle her cousin for sounding so selfish.

  “My lady, it would be an honor to sign my name to your dance card.” Lord Chamberlain bowed swiftly, a little too eager to be her partner. He bounced on the soles of his feet, always in constant movement. His speech was rushed, the boyish gleam in his eyes danced with expectation.

  Livie held out her arm dutifully allowing him to scribble his name in one of the remaining slots on her card. She wanted to forget about a certain blue-eyed duke, and the only way for that to happen was to find herself more suitors. Preferably not Baron Bromswell, as she would prefer someone who did not make her feel so fearful.

  The current set ended, and she found herself escorted to the vacant dance floor by Lord Chamberlain. He was young and the same height as she was. In fact, she seemed slightly taller than him as they danced in a quadrille.

  When the set finally came to an end, Livie was happy to be free of the young gentleman and that the end of the night was near. Lord Chamberlain escorted her to her father, who was in conversation with two other gentlemen, who both signed their names to her dance card.

  She was caught
unprepared for all of the attention and wondered briefly why and how she was garnering so much of it. After each dance, there were several eligible men waiting to sign their names on her dance card. She was now occupied with dances the remainder of the night.

  After a dance with a particularly rotund viscount, Livie stood beside her mother, drinking iced champagne. Her gaze wandered around the ballroom in search of Julia. She found her on the dance floor once again with the Marquess of Heartford.

  Livie smiled knowingly to herself. She could tell that Julia and the marquess were instantly attracted to each other. She was both happy and envious of her cousin.

  When Julia’s father, the previous Earl of Hempstead, and his lady wife died in a dreadful carriage accident, they were both little girls, still playing with their handmade dolls, always together—cousins by blood, but sisters in their hearts.

  “Pardon me, Lady Hempstead, may I please have a word with your daughter?” Lady Diana asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Lady Hempstead surveyed Lady Diana suspiciously before gracing her with a slight nod of her head. “Of course, my lady, it will be an honor.”

  Livie excused herself from the group of older women to take a turn around the room beside Lady Diana. The older woman slid her arm through Livie’s as they strolled for several moments without saying a word. The crowd seemingly parted and stared as if they were fine art in a museum, taking great interest in the fact that the duke’s mother was finding Livie worth her time.

  Lady Diana was always at the forefront of society’s attention. Julia had regaled Livie with details of every prominent member of society in their carriage ride to town. Apparently, the lady became friends with the former Duchess of Karrington, and upon her death, married the late duke a shocking three months after his first wife’s death.

  Once they passed the gawking onlookers, Livie gave the lady a quizzical glance. “You do me a great honor, my lady. May I inquire why you sought me out as a companion?”

  Lady Diana chuckled lightly. “I see that you and I will get along splendidly.” She patted Livie’s gloved hand. “My dear, I could not help but notice that you danced with my son earlier.”

  Livie stopped, shocked by the lady’s forwardness. “Indeed, he was simply doing a favor for my father.”

  “A favor that seems to have captured his special attention. I know my son, Lady Olivia, and as his only living mother, I must tell you it brought me great joy to witness.” Her smile was sincere, eyes sparkling with delight.

  Flustered and caught unaware by her assumptions, Livie placed her free hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. “My lady, I can assure you there is no understanding. It was only a dance.”

  “My dear, I know what I witnessed. I would encourage you not to allow anything to deter you. He is dear to me, but I do know the gossips and society do not paint him in a favorable light. I urge you to see past the mask he has in place for society. I am sure you will be surprised at what you will uncover.” She raised an encouraging eyebrow at Livie.

  “Darling, are you ready to take our leave?” Her husband interrupted their private conversation.

  “Yes, of course. Mr. David Prescott, please allow me to introduce Lady Olivia St. John.” She said warmly, her gaze traveling from her husband to Livie. “Lady Olivia, my husband, Mr. David Prescott.”

  Livie gave a short curtsey and smiled warmly at the gentleman. “Thank you both for attending.”

  She began to walk away but was stopped by the matron. “It was our pleasure, and please do not forget my advice, dear.”

  Livie nodded before leaving the older couple. As she walked back to her family, she could not help but notice most of the guests watching her every move.

  The morning after the ball, Livie prepared for the day. Her mind and heart were still filled with thoughts of the ball and the duke. It was a foolish girl’s dream to hope that his mother was correct in her assumptions. She refused to hope that the duchess’s words were true.

  The door barged open, interrupting the quiet in the room. Julia came bustling in, out of breath and full of excitement, holding the gossips.

  “Olivia! You will never believe what has happened!” She laid down on the settee in the room, her legs sprawled out in front of her in a very unladylike fashion.

  “Julia, whatever is the matter? Is it the Marquess of Heartford?” Livie asked in concern.

  Julia sat up wide-eyed. “It has nothing to do with either the marquess or me and everything to do with you and the Bachelor Duke!” she yelled, holding up the sheet.

  Abigail abandoned her duties to sit beside Julia and read the gossip. Livie stared at both of them in shock.

  “Me? I don’t understand,” she muttered, bewildered.

  Julia, walked over, and stood in front of Livie and began reading at a rapid rate. “The Duke of Karrington is the most sought-after gentlemen in society. Any available lady would set her sights on him, but is it too late for hopeful debutantes? As a man that never partakes in the menial task of dancing or even attending balls, it seems our duke has finally found someone he feels is worthy of him. Has the plump daughter of an earl captured the Bachelor Duke’s eye?”

  Silence filled the room as the three women let the words of the gossip sheet wash over them. Livie couldn’t believe what she just heard. Was the rest of society mad? She knew what she wished would happen, but the possibility of her wildest dreams coming true was nigh impossible.

  She was aware that the duke only danced with her to appease her father, but that did not stop her foolish heart from hoping the papers, his mother, and her dreams were right.

  “Livie! You are the talk of society. Everyone is in an uproar about you and the duke.”

  “How dare they call you plump in for all of London to read!” Abigail shouted, outraged on Livie’s behalf. She was another one of Livie’s fierce protectors, always coming to her aid. Sometimes she wondered what she ever did to earn such loyalty out of a person.

  “You did not tell me you danced, and that the duke’s mother took you for a turn around the ballroom?” Abigail’s eyes were as wide as tea saucers, her mouth agape in a perfect circle.

  “I-I did not think it at all important … besides, Julia was there, and nothing happened.” Livie defended herself, not comfortable with both Abigail and Julia questioning her about the duke. She did not want to share anything about the ball, for fear it did not happen at all.

  “I was too mesmerized by the marquess to notice! I am sure the duke will call on you. Perhaps he will come with the marquess!” Julia could barely contain her excitement.

  “There is no understanding between the Duke of Karrington and myself. Now, tell me all about the marquess as we walk down to breakfast.” Livie took her cousin’s arm.

  Julia’s face lit up. She began to retell every detail of her encounter with the Marquess of Heartford. Every dance they partook, every turn around the ballroom, every glance he sent her way.

  As Julia prattled on and on, Livie tried to listen, but her mind continued to wander to intense blue eyes, dark hair, and strong arms that commanded her body to do whatever he willed it to. Her heart beat rapidly as she recalled his strong chiseled jaw and dark hair. Every part of him was magnificent. She couldn’t help but hope that she would see more of the Duke of Karrington.

  Before she could spend her time analyzing their dance and how he made her feel, her mother rushed from the breakfast room, nearly colliding with them. Her hands were filled with calling cards, her eyes wide like a child who had won a game.

  “There you are! Quickly, you must eat, you have several gentlemen callers stopping by today!” her mother yelled, her voice squeaky and high.

  “What gentlemen callers?” Livie questioned, looking at her mother as if she’d gone mad. “I believe only Baron Bromswell asked to call on me.”

  She tried very hard not to show her apprehension to such a man calling on her. She knew that at her size, she should be happy with any husband, but she c
ould not escape the feeling that something sinister was within the baron.

  “Baron Bromswell, Lord Chamberlain, Lord Carmichael, and the Duke of Summerset have all sent their cards to secure an afternoon visit,” her mother said rather proudly as if she was announcing the Prince Regent.

  “The Duke of Summerset is older than you and Uncle!” Julia called out, outraged.

  Livie vaguely remembered dancing with the older gentleman near the end of the night, but she thought it was only a friendly gesture as they spoke no words.

  “Yes, he is a little older, but you will mind your manners. The Marquess of Heartford has sent a card for you. Now come we must hurry!” Her mother clapped her hands together, excited that the ladies both had callers.

  Livie watched her mother, noting how her shoulders seemed less stiff with the prospects of suitors and the girls being cared for once her husband no longer was an earl.

  Missing: One tall and handsome duke.

  The Bachelor Duke has not been seen out in society since the Earl of H’s ball. I’m sure Lady O hasn’t noticed his absence as she has had a line of suitors from here to the Americas.

  It had only been a sennight since he’d laid eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure to behold. Because of that one simple fact, Remington found himself avoiding all events and outings where the fairer sex would be in attendance. He tried indulging himself in one of his usual activities, but nothing kept his mind off of Lady Olivia St. John. Fencing turned dangerous for him, even when wearing protective gear. His mind was not on the task at hand, but a pair of stormy gray eyes.

  Hiding out at O’Brien’s Gentlemen’s Club became a normal occurrence if he wasn’t at home in his study, diligently going over his estate ledgers. He found the club rather enjoyable in the evenings when other gentlemen were attending social functions. He took comfort in the easy conversation of the establishment owner Flynn O’Brien, a man old enough to be his father.