It's Hard Out Here for a Duke

by Maya Rodale

  “You were going to run away?”

  “I was. But this girl made me a man. She was the only reason I stepped out of that carriage in London. My love for her is the only thing that has made it possible for me to do my duty. And she does it all just by being herself.”

  There was a hint of tears in Meredith’s eyes when she asked, “What happened to the girl?”

  “She got away. Almost. Maybe.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “You see, Meredith, I’ve been sent to fetch you and bring you back.”

  “Fetch me?”

  “I have three sisters. They all possess, shall we say, strong opinions and forceful personalities. They have insisted that I cannot live without the woman I love. And so I have been told, in no uncertain terms, that I am to find her and declare my intentions and hopefully persuade her to marry me so that we can be happy. Once you meet my sisters, you’ll see that they are quite forceful and impossible to disregard.”

  “You’re here on orders from your sisters?”

  “In truth, Mer, it’s more like their blessing. I’m given to understand that I might cause a scandal by wedding a woman who doesn’t appear in Debrett’s or other rubbish like that. My sisters have wholeheartedly encouraged me to risk scandal for love. They told me they have found their happiness, and it’s time for me. And, I hope, you. I love you, Meredith. I want to be with you as man and wife, duke and duchess, and I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it.”

  “James . . . Just James.” She sighed his name, and it felt like she forgot how to breathe. This man had seen her—and that was enough for her to lose her head for him. Now this man loved her—and she was ready to give him her heart. But where to begin when one’s heart was beating like mad and breath was stolen? “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you love me, too. Say you’ll marry me. Say you’ll be my duchess.”

  A short while later . . .

  The soft click of a door closing in the latch, shutting out the rest of the world, because the rest of the world didn’t matter in a moment like this.

  The scratch and spark of a match coming to light, and the soft glow from a candle illuminating just enough: him and her, together, alone. Eyes dark with desire, an expression full of love.

  The quiet sounds of whispers, promising things like tonight and forever, love and happy ever after. Promises they both knew they would keep.

  The quiet rustle of fabric as dresses and coats and jackets and all such things were removed and cast aside so that there was nothing between his bare skin and hers. There was nothing to hide and nothing more would keep them apart.

  The soft and silky sound of sighs and sharp intakes of breaths and slow exhales as they kissed. Mouths colliding, touching, tasting, knowing.

  The feeling of bare fingertips along heated skin, of nerves tingling with wanting, doing nothing, nothing to diminish desire but only stoking it further.

  The feeling of becoming one, so connected and tangled up in each other there was no knowing where one ended and one began.

  The sound of crying out in pleasure, his a low possessive groan, hers breathless. And then, underneath the silence, the sound of beating hearts and promises whispered.

  But this, this was not the end.

  Chapter 20

  A duke is not above love.

  —The Rules for Dukes

  The following day

  The next morning, James and Meredith woke up in each other’s arms. The moment was all the sweeter for having longed for it and worked for it.

  But not everything was sunshine, roses, and happily ever after. They would marry, and they would be happy. But it would be all the more joyful if they had the blessing of the duchess.

  By unspoken agreement, they set off for London as soon as possible.

  The carriage rolled away from the Queen’s Head, pulled by a matching set of white horses—as if in a fairy tale, Meredith noted wryly. For a while she watched the scenery pass by, but then she took James’s hand in hers.

  “I never told you my story,” she said, turning to face him.

  “Tell me. Start with once upon a time and then let’s ensure that it concludes with and they lived happily ever after.” He pressed a kiss upon her cheek, and she gave a quick smile.

  “There are a lot of blank pages in my story, though. There are things I will have to ask the duchess.”

  “Such as . . .”

  “Who my father really is,” Meredith said, saying the words aloud for the first time.

  “My mother and her caretaker, Mrs. Bates, said some things that raised questions in my mind as to whether or not the man she had married was also the man who had fathered me,” Meredith explained. “Mr. Green, may he rest in peace, never showed much interest in me as a child, and as I matured he wasn’t very interested in protecting me from the boys in the village. He said the sooner I was married off the better—didn’t matter to whom.”

  “Oh, Mer . . .”

  “That was when the duchess swept in and took me under her wing. She saved me, James. Just think of where I would be without her attentions.”

  One did not want to think of such things. James gave a squeeze of her hand, which was more than words could say.

  “Sprock and Simons said something about the duchess’s lady’s maid having a quick wedding. Maybe it signifies. Maybe it doesn’t.” James shrugged.

  “Who are Sprock and Simons?”

  “Tenants at Durham Park. We were digging a drainage ditch in the north field. Did you know that digging drainage ditches is a better remedy for a broken heart than sitting in the dark with decanters of brandy?”

  Meredith laughed. “I did not. I shall keep that in mind.”

  “But hopefully you’ll never have a broken heart,” James murmured, pressing another kiss on her lips. “Apologies. You were saying something and I distracted you with a kiss.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, smiling.

  “Tell me what other questions you have for the duchess.”

  “I want to know why she took me in, the daughter of her lady’s maid, and raised me as her companion. I thought all these years it was because she was lonely, and because she felt obligated after my mother fell ill. But now I wonder if it’s more than that. I wonder, James, if I might have noble blood after all.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me one way or another,” he said, and she knew it. To be honest, it didn’t matter much to her, either, though she did want to know the truth and she did want to understand if perhaps she and the duchess shared a deeper connection than she had realized.

  “I know.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I want to be with you, James, with or without her blessing, but I would rather have it. She has made me into the woman I am.”

  “And the woman I love,” he murmured.

  If he does nothing else, a duke must fight for those he loves.

  —The Rules for Dukes

  Durham House

  This time when the carriage pulled up in front of Durham House, James leapt out first and extended his hand to help Meredith alight.

  It seemed like only yesterday that she had stood with the rest of the household staff to greet him. She clearly remembered the feeling of her heart leaping and sinking when she set eyes on the New Duke and saw that it was none other than the man she’d made love to at the inn. Conflicting emotions crashed through her—joy to see him again, fear that he would reveal her indiscretion, lust and longing and confusion.

  Now he was proudly standing before her, holding out his hand to welcome her. This time when she entered Durham House, things would be different.

  Despite James’s assurances that he would love her forever and wed her immediately, she still felt no small measure of trepidation. She cared greatly for the good opinion and affection of the duchess—especially if Meredith’s suspicions about their connection were true—and she worried about the looming conversation.

  She found the duchess in the south drawing room.

&
nbsp; “Meredith! It is good to have you back. You won’t believe what you have missed.” The duchess smiled, and Meredith couldn’t help but smile back, though hers was a nervous one.

  And then James stepped in after her.

  “I suppose the duke has told you that two of his sisters are betrothed!” The duchess beamed. “Bridget has even landed Lord Darcy. The ton speaks of little else.” And then upon seeing their serious expressions, the duchess said, “What is on your mind? What brings you back to London?”

  James and Meredith took seats on the settee beside each other. If the duchess noticed anything intimate or equal between them, she didn’t say it. But her eyes did narrow, so she must have seen.

  “Your Grace, while I was visiting with my mother she said some things that have raised questions in my mind. While in one of her states, she spoke of your brother, the Earl of Cambria. I am wondering if you might tell me what transpired between them.”

  The duchess visibly stiffened. Meredith plunged ahead. Her heart was racing but if this was true . . .

  “I know it may be nothing more than the rantings of a madwoman, but it did make me wonder. Because, Your Grace, if it wasn’t the rantings of a madwoman but her real memories . . .” Meredith paused. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Best ring for tea. This is a story that requires some fortification.”

  “Who is the Earl of Cambria?” James asked.

  There was a long pause before Her Grace answered.

  “My brother, may he rest in peace. My reckless, devil-may-care, rakehell brother who never met a scandal he didn’t want to tangle with. My brother, who knew no limits, knew only privilege and entitlement and no sense of duty.”

  James seemed confused. But Meredith wasn’t.

  Was it true? Her heart raced, her mind raced with the implications.

  “An earl’s dalliance with a lady’s maid is hardly a scandal,” Meredith said softly. “It is, alas, so often the way of things.”

  “But she was my lady’s maid,” the duchess said in a tight voice. “My trusted confidante, my one source of constancy as I left a tumultuous home to become the wife of a man I hardly knew. I was expected to find my way in the ton with little guidance and to manage all the duke’s households. She was good and loyal to me. But my brother . . . distracted her.”

  The duchess paused and so much started to make sense now. Why she worried so much about scandal, why she relied so much on Meredith’s constancy by her side, why she fretted about James assuming his duty.

  The duchess had more to say: “And the result of his dalliance with her, my niece, was destined to be born a bastard or a commoner. I made arrangements for your mother to quickly wed the late duke’s valet, so at least you weren’t born a bastard. Marrying Cambria was out of the question, of course.”

  “I am your niece,” Meredith whispered. “I am your niece.”

  “You are my niece,” she confirmed.

  And like that, so many pieces clicked together and fell into place. This explained why the duchess plucked her from her surroundings and brought her to live in the grand ducal residence, why she instructed her in all the proper ladylike arts, from pouring tea to addressing the third son of an earl and his wife in both speech and writing, to managing a household. But these things were not just items on a Perfect Lady checklist, they were the hard-earned knowledge of how to survive that the duchess had learned and passed along to her flesh and blood, and the closest she’d had to a daughter of her own.

  Meredith understood her now, in a way she never had before.

  But one question remained unanswered. If she had noble blood . . . if she was as polished as any gently bred young lady . . . if she was the one who made James want to stand up and be Durham . . . and if they were in love . . .

  “Why am I not suitable for James then?”

  “As far as anyone knows, you are merely a commoner,” the duchess explained, sounding very sorry about it. But still. “We all know that dukes do not marry commoners. Durham has weathered enough scandals, we cannot have more. And the ton will talk—oh, will they talk. They will be vicious and cruel. And I don’t wish to see you hurt.”

  “You’re trying to protect me.” The duchess nodded yes. “But I don’t want to be protected. I want to marry the man I love, who loves me.”

  “If it weren’t for the dukedom needing James . . .” the duchess mused. “If you could just get away . . .”

  “Like my father. And mother,” James added. “He ran away to be with her, and the horse-thieving story was just to serve as a distraction from the real potential scandal: that love mattered more than duty to the dukedom.”

  “You have seen how much people depend upon you, James, or the person in your position. You have seen how there is too much at stake to entrust it to someone like Mr. Collins. I do not wish to stand in the way of love and happiness, but we cannot lose you now, Duke. It would be far more devastating if you ran away now than when your father did.”

  “I won’t run away,” James said firmly. “As long as I have Meredith as my duchess.”

  “I know that the ton will talk and people will turn their noses up at us. Between the commoner and the American duke, we shall certainly struggle for acceptance that would have come easily otherwise,” Meredith said. “But I have your blood in my veins, and you have taught me well. Josie.”

  “Hmmph,” the duchess said at being addressed as Josie by Meredith for the first time. “That’s right. You have my blood in your veins. When I have said that you are like a daughter to me, I have meant it in ways that you didn’t know. I couldn’t let my own niece grow up impoverished with few opportunities to advance and none to succeed. But the world is cruel and quick to judge. I don’t want to see you hurt—not from society, and certainly not from a marriage that cannot withstand the pressures of society.”

  “The love I have for Meredith won’t be swayed by what people think or say or whether we are invited to parties or not. The love we share is the kind of love you throw a dukedom away for,” James said evenly. “But I would like to stay. Duchess, you and Meredith have shown me that duty and love needn’t be at odds. It is my love for Meredith that has made me want to stay and become the Duke of Durham and the man I am destined to be.”

  Was that, perhaps, a glimmer of a tear in the corner of the duchess’s eye? For that matter, was that a glimmer of a tear in Meredith’s eye? At least one tear wouldn’t be amiss. She had found love, family, and home, more than she had ever imagined. She had, luckily enough, found her place and purpose in the world. This was a gift she would treasure always.

  “Besides,” James continued. “What’s a little scandal when it comes to true love?”

  A moment later

  When Meredith, James, and the duchess opened the doors from the drawing room to the foyer, a not altogether unexpected sight greeted them: three Cavendish sisters leaning close to the door, making a valiant attempt to eavesdrop.

  Claire, Bridget, and Amelia all jumped back, wearing vaguely guilty expressions. A smile tugged at Meredith’s mouth. Sisters.

  “Did you know that these doors are remarkably thick?” Bridget mused.

  “They are not very good at transmitting sound,” Claire said.

  “I do believe that is the point of them,” James said. “Ensuring privacy, whether visual or auditory.”

  “They are the bane of eavesdroppers everywhere,” Bridget said.

  “Or just us,” Amelia added with a grin. “Your beloved sisters.”

  “Please, tell me that long private discussion was about you two getting married,” Bridget said, getting right to the point. “And that I have not sent Pendleton for a bottle of champagne for no good reason.”

  James and Meredith glanced quickly at each other, and then at Pendleton, who stood nearby with a bottle of champagne, and then at the duchess. They would have a wedding soon—their love would not be denied. The only question was whether they would have the approval from the one person w
hose good opinion mattered most.

  “There will be a wedding,” the duchess said, then a pause, and a smile. “With my blessing.”

  Epilogue

  A duke is often the most important and highest-ranking person in a room—unless the duchess is present. Any man of sense defers to her.

  —The Rules for Dukes

  Twelve years later

  Durham Park

  Her Grace, Josephine Marie Elizabeth Cavendish, the dowager Duchess of Durham, had one job in life: to assure the succession of the dukedom for the next generation.

  In this, she succeeded.

  Spectacularly.

  The evidence was all around her.

  Oh, there was the house and grounds at Durham Park—as grand as ever, and just one of the well-run estates in the family. But the best evidence of success was all the happy couples and children frolicking all about her. There was no special occasion for this picnic, other than that it was a beautiful summer day, there was not even a hint of rain in the blue, sunshine-filled sky, and they were all together.

  Each of the Cavendish siblings had wed and multiplied. For this, she breathed a prayer of thanks because, for a few moments there, it seemed highly unlikely that they should make any match. But love had prevailed.

  There had been a scandal when the duke wed his common-born duchess, Meredith. But the family had weathered the social storm admirably, due to the unbreakable love between them. And it didn’t hurt that the sisters had landed some very well-connected and powerful husbands. Their acceptance of the new duchess helped smooth her way in society.

  Lady Bridget had captivated Lord Darcy, a pillar of the ton.

  Lady Amelia had wed the heir to Baron Wrotham.

  Lady Claire had snared the charming Lord Fox.