She was so excited. And I was curious. We settled in to watch the shows. What kind of life would I be in for as a modern-day duchess? The reality as explained by the living earls and dukes was very different from the pampered past when servants attended to the lord's every need. As they explained it, economies must be made and the estates run as businesses. One of the duchesses occasionally even groomed her own horse and mucked her own stall.
I jealously checked my phone every five minutes, which Sid, surprisingly, seemed to approve of. Just after eleven, a picture of Riggins pulling into the long, gated driveway of his lakefront mansion with Rose in the passenger seat popped up on my feed.
"He took her home!" My voice broke. I both saw red and was on the verge of hysterical tears.
Sid glanced at her watch. "Eleven? That's good. The evening is ending early." She sniggered.
"No. I meant to his home." I handed her my phone.
"Oh." Her face fell.
Crap. He hadn't taken me home. We both knew what that meant.
Riggins
Rose's eyes were large as she took in my home and the view over the dark water sparkling with the reflection of the city and surroundings. She was impressed. But she studied it with the eye of a woman used to luxury and quality.
"Beautiful." She looked around and up the grand staircase. At the paintings and light fixtures. Appraising them or enjoying them?
"Thank you." I took her coat and showed her to the living room where the view was most spectacular and I almost never closed the curtains and blinds. "You should see the view in the daylight. Can I get you anything?"
"Thank you. A glass of wine? Something dry. I'm still stinging from that rich dessert." She settled into the plush upholstery of my favorite sofa and kicked off her shoes.
"I have just the thing." I poured her a glass of Riesling, handed it to her, and took a seat in the chair at a right angle to her.
"Your tastes are very modern and yet classic. With definite Northwest elements thrown in." She picked up a small black statue of swimming salmon that sat on the end table next to her. "It's refreshing after growing up in a museum like I have."
I smiled at her. "Some would say you've been lucky."
She shrugged and set the statue down. "They haven't lived among antiquity. They're spoiled with modern conveniences like electric wiring that isn't wonky."
She laughed prettily. "I read stories about people here in America renovating 'old' houses. Those built in nineteen hundred, for example. And all the tribulations they have bringing them up to code without destroying the historic character of them.
"Imagine trying to keep a three-hundred-year-old manor house looking essentially the same as it did in 1816, including the furnishings. Yet having Wi-Fi and satellite TV. Computers sitting around. That kind of thing. It would be so nice just to start from new with twenty-first-century style."
"You're a modern girl?" I said.
"I am what I have to be." Her smile was dazzling, but beneath it there was a hint of frustration.
The evening had been a success. I'd had a good time. And she certainly knew how to be mysterious. But the time had come for revelations. She'd been coming on to me all evening. Under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn't have discouraged her. But given what was at stake, I preferred to take things slow. Complicating things, Haley kept popping into my thoughts at the most awkward, inconvenient times.
"You were going to tell me all about the contents of the Dead Duke's will." I wanted to see if she was fishing or if she really knew what she was talking about.
"The Dead Duke?" She laughed. "Is that what you call him? Brilliant! I love it. He was such an old codger. Not that I, or anyone, ever saw much of him. My father, of course, had dealings with him from time to time and paid the odd social call. But I suppose the old duke deserves the name. He is very dead. Probably had been for years, though he breathed on in that ancient, dried-up body of his."
"You're more sentimental about him than I am." I grinned. "I never met him." I raised my glass. "To the Dead Duke. May he rest in peace."
We clinked glasses.
Rose laughed again. "Oh, he won't be resting in peace anytime soon. He'll be turning in his grave if he ever hears about my plans."
She paused and wrapped her hands around the stem of her wine glass. "I know many of the details of the will. I'm not supposed to, obviously, but I have friends in low and medium places. Servants and clerks to the Dead Duke. People who were invisible to him, but who knew what to look for and liked to talk and speculate.
"Although there were rumors the old duke was probably immortal, I realized he couldn't live forever. Eventually there would be a new duke. I've been keeping tabs to see who that would be. To my great satisfaction, that was you." Her eyes danced. Her voice was full of flirt.
"There's a shocking lack of eligible dukes on the market. And a desperate shortage of rich, handsome, young dukes. When a new one pops up, the sharks will circle. A girl needs to be prepared. If she wants to be a duchess, that is. The only way is to marry into the title. So, yes, I have been spying on the Dead Duke, looking for any advantage with his heir." She laughed. "Does that sound terribly conniving and scheming of me?"
"It has a certain Mata Hari ring to it." I leaned back in my chair. "Others might say it was prudent. Wise, even."
She laughed and smiled at me as she took another sip of wine and crossed her legs. "You see? You and I could get on famously."
I nodded. "You were saying?"
"The Dead Duke was a well-known manipulator. That's no secret. He also made it clear his dynasty was the most important thing to him. Everyone in his social circles and in our little community was aware of his aspirations. He wanted an heir and an heir for his heir.
"If I don't miss my guess—and judging from your expression, I don't—he's implemented a plan for ensuring your compliance with his wishes. The late duke was very clever. Practically diabolical." Her eyes sparkled.
She leaned on the arm of the sofa so that her cleavage showed to full advantage and smiled into my eyes seductively. "Imagine my great pleasure when the new duke was everything I'd been hoping for."
I raised an eyebrow and smiled, encouraging her with my silence to continue.
"An opportunity like this only comes around once in a lifetime. Coincidentally—it must have been fate—I was on the show Britain's Got Roots and discovered my connection to his late first wife." She took another sip of wine. "He's reputed to have had an exceptional love for her. As evidenced by leaving her only living female relative something in his will. That wasn't like him at all."
I wondered just how coincidental that revelation was. Or if it had been manufactured. Could she have faked her ancestry? Her good fortune seemed a little too convenient. And just how much did she really know?
"The Dead Duke is most likely blackmailing you into taking the dukedom somehow. You don't seem the kind to be eager to take it over. You're smart enough to realize what an albatross it could be. Without some incentive to marry and take it over, you're rich enough to refuse.
"And, from what I've observed, I'm willing to wager that he wants you to marry a descendant of his first wife. He believed only Haley Hamilton remained of the late duchess' line. But he was wrong, the old fool. I'm one, too. Thank you, Britain's Got Roots." She paused, studying me.
"I have no scruples about marrying you. For your money. For fun. So we both get what we want." She leaned toward me. "You're a bit of all right. Life with you could be loads of fun. Especially if we go into this honestly with no false expectations." She took a sip of wine.
I masked my expression. "You're fully aware of all the requirements of a duchess?"
"You're referring to having to produce an heir?" She laughed. "Yes. Oh, yes. I'm perfectly willing to populate your dukedom with a lovely, handsome son. And maybe a spare. If your Dead Duke's will is like many contracts in wealthy old families, there's a bonus for that, too. He was a traditionalist, so I don't believe my guess
is far off." She took my hand and made bedroom eyes at me. "That's the fun bit of this whole arrangement, isn't it?"
My mouth went dry. She was enticing.
"I would suggest we up our odds of conceiving a boy the first time out and you pay for a tummy tuck after we've had our beautiful little heir and spare. I don't believe either of us want to have six or eight girls trying for a boy. That's way too much stress."
I laughed, not sure whether I was horrified or impressed with her honesty and forthrightness. "Hardly."
"I'm fertile. I've been checked out. I can give you my medical records."
"I—"
She waved her hand. "Oh, don't worry about it or be embarrassed. It's only sensible. Were I in your shoes, I'd do the same.
"One of my spies claims she heard whispers that the will calls for a pregnancy test before the marriage. The bride must not be pregnant before, even with your child. The Dead Duke"—she laughed—"didn't want any usurpers to his genetic line taking the dukedom. I don't disbelieve it. It would be completely in character.
"I'm happy to take the test on our wedding day. And after the children are born, if we decide to part, I'll give you custody and only ask for visitation rights. I promise to show the proper amount of affection and attention as their mum. And raise the eldest son to be a good little duke. As long as I'm guaranteed my bonus for producing the heir.
"I'll play your loving wife in public. Your passionate wife in the bedroom. We could have so much fun. And the divorce, should we decide to divorce at the conclusion of our contract, will be amicable.
"During our marriage, I won't embarrass you. I'll introduce you to society. And teach you how to be an aristocrat. All in all, we could have a lovely life together, you and I. For as long as it lasts.
"We'll spell everything out in writing beforehand so we both know what we're getting into and what our legal rights are."
I remained silent. She was logical and organized. Astute and conniving. Passionate, but a little calculatingly cold at the same time. On the surface, she was exactly everything I needed. But was she what I wanted?
We certainly didn't need this leak. I needed to call Thorne and let him know we had a problem.
"You must think I'm very cold and calculating. That I love money above all else." She smiled sadly. "The truth is, I'm more like the Dead Duke than I like to admit. You no doubt know my father is on the brink of losing our ancestral home? I know I'm only adopted, but I have strong family ties. I couldn't bear for him to lose it and for our family to lose its prestige.
"Part of the reason I'm doing this is for my family. To save everything."
Chapter 5
Haley
Sunday was clear and warm for January—fifty degrees. Riggins invited me to his house for our date and sent a car to pick me up. He told me to dress casually, but bring a warm jacket.
His house sat on the beach down a long, gated driveway from the road. If the definition of luxury is privacy and plenty of space, he was definitely living the life. The car had to be buzzed in through security.
As I watched the wrought-iron gate swing open, my heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. There was an instant where I wondered if I could stand a life where living behind a gate was necessary. Where security was a prime concern and you didn't just walk out to the mailbox and chat with your neighbors. There was freedom in being an ordinary person with an ordinary income. How much of that was I willing to give up for love of my sister, and maybe just love period?
Despite all my misgivings, I couldn't help smiling at the thought of seeing Riggins. There was no denying I was attracted to him and falling in love with him. But that was such dangerous ground, loving a man who might never love me. Trying to get him to marry me to save Sid and save him from Lady Rose's diabolical clutches. Yes, I was often melodramatic. But there you had it. Thinking of him with Lady Rose broke my heart. Thinking of him with anyone but me did.
I texted Riggins that I had arrived. He was waiting for me in front of his home as we pulled up. Waterfront property on Lake Washington was at a premium and exceptionally pricey. The sheer number of lakefront footage he had was almost dizzying when I considered what it must have cost. The non-lakeside of his house was attractive, but not ostentatious.
Dressed in jeans and a casual jacket, Riggins, however, was nothing short of hot. His face lit up when he saw my car pull up. I couldn't help beaming.
He opened the car door for me. I had to resist flying into his arms as if he were mine and this fairytale courtship was something more than a plot to throw Thorne off. Riggins smelled delicious, as always, of virility mixed with amber, mint, cedarwood, and citrus, and wore a day's growth of beard that highlighted the impression of natural, sexy masculinity. But it was the delight in his eyes at seeing me that took my breath away. I could live in that look for the rest of my life. If only he'd let me.
"Haley!" He pulled me into a tight hug, clasping me to his hard chest in a natural embrace.
When our eyes met, a spark leaped between us. The intimacy of a night of dancing hadn't faded.
He took my hand. "Come on. Let me show you the house. After the tour, I have something special planned. I hope you like the water?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You aren't planning to throw me in, are you?"
He laughed. "Hardly."
"In that case, I love the water."
He pulled me into the entryway of the house. I resisted gaping only with supreme effort. The house was as breathtaking as the man who owned it.
"It's beautiful!" I was in true awe.
His tastes were a mix of classic and modern. Very elegant. The house even smelled expensive. It was not your typical bachelor place. Every surface sparkled as if it was polished and dusted regularly. There were definitely no dirty socks lying around.
"Not too masculine?" he asked.
"Not for you," I said truthfully.
The focus of the house was the lakeside. A wall of windows so clean it almost felt open-air ran the length of the living room. Which had a view of the lake and the Olympic Mountains that could only be described as killer. "Look at that view." I took a step forward, tugging him with me. "I feel like I could see forever to the mountains and beyond."
He looked at me with a strange expression. "That's exactly how I feel. It's what sold me on the house. But you're the first person who's ever said it to me."
I smiled at him. See? Soulmates, I wanted to say. Priceless.
He had an expanse of lush green lawn that led to the lake.
I ran with my thoughts, not filtering them. "Do you ever run barefoot through that lush lawn to the lake in the evening when the shadows are long? And get that ache from the cold. I love running through cold grass at dusk. Yours looks so thick I just want to curl my toes in it."
"Not this time of year." He was looking at me like I had once again voiced his thoughts. "You have to watch out for banana slugs."
I laughed.
He had a boathouse and a dock that appeared as large as one at the public park in Renton. And moored at it was a sleek white yacht that looked like something from a Bond movie.
"Well?" He squeezed my hand. "First impressions?"
"Wow." I took a deep breath. "That's all I have—just wow! I feel like I've stepped into an episode from HGTV. One where they showcase the homes of the rich and famous."
"I am rich." He winked.
I laughed. "Don't forget famous, now that you're the duke."
He grimaced. "Don't remind me. Let me show you the rest of the main floor."
He could have released my hand, but he didn't. I tried not to read too much meaning into it. My hand in his felt so natural, maybe he simply forgot. Maybe he held every girl's hand. Maybe he didn't want to take a chance I'd go running wild through the house pulling open doors and marveling at the wonders inside.
He took me around, showing me one spectacular room after another. Introducing me to his staff, including his housekeeper, who lived in a "cottage"—whi
ch was nicer than my house—on the property.
At one point, I stopped short to admire a piece of art and looked him in the eye. "You live like this. And yet you're afraid you don't know how to be a duke? How is this different? I bet you live better than most modern-day dukes.
"Sid and I have been watching specials about the great estates of England and Scotland on Netflix. As far as luxury? You have them beat. Most of the earls and dukes on those shows run tourist shops on their properties, wield chainsaws to clear trees that fall over their private roads, and use backhoes to store biofuel to save on energy costs.
"The Duke of Argyll even tends shop and wears an apron that says 'Duke' on it. And he's the head of the entire Campbell clan worldwide!" I squeezed Riggins' hand. "When was the last time you clerked at a store?"
"I manned the cash register at one of our charity sample sales." His smile was breathtaking. "And I wore a bright blue volunteer apron during my stint."
"But did it say 'duke' on it?" I teased.
"I wasn't the duke yet."
"Technicality. How about 'boss'?"
He laughed. "No. But back to your original question—do you see any five-hundred-year-old paintings of my ancestors painted by famous masters hanging on the walls?" He shuddered, playfully. "The thought of all those eyes following me gives me nightmares. And stuffed deer heads in the drawing room? Dusty old books in the library? I hate dust and the smell of old." He shook his head.
"Elizabethan isn't your style?" I teased.
"No, not even the much more recent Victorian. Come. Let me show you my theater."
The theater room was also marvelous and seated about thirty in ultra-comfy seats. I tried every one while he laughed.
"Not a bad seat in the house," I finally pronounced.
He also had an office, a private gym, an indoor pool, an outdoor pool, a spa room, a game room, a man cave, and a bar. He had basically everything.
The Duchess Contest: A Jet City Billionaire Serial Romance Page 5