Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2)

by Tiffany Green

  The bird reappeared in the distance, happily circling the crow’s nest of one of the merchant ships. Daniel drew in a slow, deep breath, reaffirming that vow once more.

  As the ship eased into the mouth of the sea a few hours later, Daniel glanced out to the endless stretch of gray ocean. Above him, the sails spread out wide, bending to the wind, and the ship picked up speed. Icy air whipped through his hair, and a woman’s voice carried on the breeze.

  “Look, Silver, it looks as though we have surpassed the odious dock.”

  He turned and took in a swift breath. Good God. Silver had removed the ugly bonnet and those eye glasses. Her wavy hair, the color of melted copper over lava, was tied back with a leather strap. A tendril had come loose and danced back and forth upon her creamy cheek. Her deep blue eyes glanced warily at him.

  “Oh, I forgot my book,” the elderly lady said, tapping Silver on the shoulder. “Wait here, child, while I go and retrieve it. I won’t be a minute.”

  As the woman scurried away, Daniel pushed away from the rail. The ton wouldn’t deem Silver beautiful since petite blondes were the thing right now, but she wasn’t the homely street vendor he’d first believed, either. She was…radiant.

  “My lady.” He gave the customary nod, refusing to feel disappointed by how tightly she held her shawl together before her.

  She dipped a stiff curtsey. “My lord.” She turned to study the water, practically dismissing him.

  He frowned, expecting a different reaction. Simpering, tittering, perhaps some compliments. Not a turned back and a rather frosty silence. This would not do, he thought. He stepped to her side, the faint smell of roses teasing his senses. “So, why are you traveling to Scotland?”

  She ceased from studying the ocean and narrowed her eyes. “Why do you wish to know?”

  Her sudden defensiveness aroused his curiosity all the more. “I’m attempting to establish polite conversation, and that is all.” He actually couldn’t tell if he were amused or mad as hell. People never showed their animosity in his presence. Especially a lady’s. His lips twitched. He wondered how she would react when she learned he was a duke. Would she grovel? Beg for forgiveness? Swoon?

  She sighed and looped an errant curl behind her ear. “I am going to Scotland to visit my brothers.”

  “You’re a Scot? I never would have guessed. Your speech is not like their….” The storm gathering in her eyes forced him to stop. He would swear they had changed from blue to gray. The urge to grin grew strong, but he refrained, certain it would only make the storm intensify.

  “And what manner of speech do Scots have?”

  His mind floundered for something to say that wouldn’t offend her. “They have a distinct brogue, unlike you. Your voice is quite nice.”

  They stared at each other across a sudden, ringing silence. Was there anything he could say that wouldn’t irritate her, wouldn’t make those auburn brows snap together or those lips purse into a rather enticing frown? A lurch of excitement coursed through him. Perhaps this trip wouldn’t be so boring, after all.

  “Ahem.”

  Daniel turned, startled that he hadn’t heard anyone approach.

  The captain bowed. “Your tea is prepared, Your Grace.”

  “Yes, thank you,” he stated absently then faced Silver.

  One of her auburn brows shot up, and she crossed her arms. “You’re a duke? I never would have guessed. You don’t speak like one,” she mimicked his perplexed tone then spun on her heel and marched away.

  “Touché,” he told the rose-scented breeze. And then he grinned, a spark of his old self returning to life.

  ****

  How in the hell had she managed to slip through his fingers so easily? That red-haired bitch. He helped himself to some wine and took a long pull, grimacing when he found it disgustingly inferior to what he was used to. Why was it so difficult to get decent port?

  The light tap at the door stayed his hand from launching the glass across the room. He glanced around, careful to keep his belongings hidden from view. Satisfied nothing was out of place, he stormed to the door and pulled it open.

  A young maid with round pink cheeks and wide blue eyes stared up at him as though he were Satan himself. He supposed he was and smiled a slow, evil smile to prove it. The girl swallowed hard, the towels in her hands trembling, and she scrambled back a step.

  He was about to tell her to dash off, when a curl slipped out of her mobcap. The silky ruby tress made him suck in a breath. She squeaked out something and started to back away. Blood pounded through his veins, hot and thick. His fingertips tingled, itching to touch her, to run his hands over her hair, her skin. To sink the long, sharp blade hidden in his mattress into her heart and rip it out. Just as his had been ripped out four years ago.

  He opened his door wide and motioned her forward. “Ahh, good, please do come in. You may set the towels just there.” He glanced over his shoulder, frowning slightly when he noticed she hadn’t moved an inch. Just stood there with her mouth open, quaking in her scarred little half-boots. “I would hate to complain to the inn’s owner, my dear. Now do come here. Yes, that’s it. May I call you Fran?” he asked, closing the door softly behind her.

  Chapter Two

  Silver tried to focus on the words that usually gave her pleasure in deciphering, but her mind wandered. She blamed it on that exasperating duke. She thought no man could be more handsome than the baron’s son back home. She thought wrong. The Duke of Huntington certainly was. His thick, dark brown hair and mischievous, emerald-green eyes melted her insides. Even thinking of him evoked an odd mixture of excitement and queasiness.

  Remembering how the duke had arrived at her rescue when she slipped made her lips curve up. Just like one of those knights in shining armor she read about recently. She sighed. Realizing she acted a moon-struck simpleton, Silver shook her head.

  “You aren’t ill, are you?”

  Startled, she upset the book and notes in her lap. Rot! She had forgotten Aunt Prudence sat in the room with her. After retrieving the items from the floor, buying some time to calm her nerves, she slowly looked up. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Her aunt’s gray brows rose. “I asked if you were ill.”

  She did feel ill, but not for reasons having to do with the ship’s motion. “I am perfectly fit, thank you.” She forced a smile.

  Aunt Prudence’s dark eyes narrowed, but she returned to her sewing. Silver released her breath and opened the thick Greek volume in her lap.

  “I knew his grandfather.”

  She snapped her gaze up and watched her aunt repair a ripped seam as those words sank in. “The duke’s grandfather? You knew him?”

  “I did.”

  Silver opened her mouth to ask the thousand questions popping into her head, then pressed her lips back together. She did not want to know. Nothing good would come out of learning anything about the duke.

  “He has much the same look as his grandfather, Thomas Claiborne. Sinfully handsome,” her aunt continued, pushing the needle through the fabric.

  Quelling the urge to roll her eyes, she shuffled through several pages of her book, unable to recall where she had stopped earlier. “I hadn’t noticed,” she lied, pretending to read a passage, feeling Aunt Prudence watching her.

  “Do you really intend to marry Victor Merrick?”

  Silver blinked twice at her aunt’s rapid change in topic. Her stomach tightened, and her breathing grew shallow as Victor’s face appeared in her mind. Ice-blue eyes. Cold. Calculating. She had heard whispers about the cruelty he inflicted upon his servants, and for once she believed the gossip without question. Something told her the man was dangerous.

  She gradually lifted her head. “What other choice do I have? Uncle Edward has already signed the betrothal contract, and Aunt Caroline has begun the preparations.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

  Prudence pursed her lips. “Surely your brothers would intervene if they knew how much you detested th
e man?”

  Oh, how she wished that were possible. She shook her head. “Uncle Edward has made it clear that he is my guardian, not my brothers. And should they keep me from returning to England for the wedding, he will have them hunted down and ‘taken care of,’ as he put it. I cannot allow that,” she finished in a harsh whisper.

  “Your father, God rest his soul, should not have sent you to Edward. Indeed, I think he went daft after your mother died.”

  Silver closed her book, trying not to groan. “Aunt Prudence, you recall my mental state when I arrived at Pennington Manor. Father had no idea how to help me.” She paused. “But you knew.”

  “Oh, bosh, I didn’t do a thing.” A smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. Then her expression turned serious. “There is always an alternative, child.” Prudence stood and gathered her sewing. “We need only to think of it,” she added before leaving the cabin.

  Silver frowned at the closed door. Her uncle’s torments over the past eight years overwhelmed her, especially when she upset him. Refusing her food, locking her in her room for days, even smacking her about with his riding crop. She knew he would become enraged if she refused to marry that man, and he would hold true to his threats. Uncle Edward was determined to get his hands on some of Merrick’s fortune and rid his home of her at the same time. She’d already given hours upon hours of thought in the matter. And she always arrived at the same conclusion. She could not avoid marriage to Victor Merrick.

  Hot bile rose up her throat, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to think of something else. Anything else.

  After a few minutes, Silver wiped the dampness from her forehead and took a deep breath to calm her rolling stomach. She would do anything to keep from marrying that man. Well, anything that didn’t involve her brothers’ demise.

  Unable to stand another second of being closed up in such a tiny room, she hoped some fresh air would make her feel better.

  Silver stepped up on deck and shaded her eyes. She glanced at the cloudless sky, grateful to find the storm that threatened earlier had dissipated. Sun rays glinted off the ocean waves, and she breathed in the air’s salty brine. She turned around and took in all the activity. The captain barked orders while the crew scurried about in uniform efficiency, adjusting sails and scrubbing the deck. The duke stood twenty feet away, conversing with another man. Why hadn’t she noticed him before?

  The duke turned to her, and their gazes locked. Her insides trembled as he ambled forward. His rakish smile made her mouth go dry.

  “As you can see, my lady,” he spread his arms wide, “your tongue left no mortal wounds.” He paused and cocked a brow. “Disappointed?”

  The mocking glint in his eyes was much too much. “Perhaps, my lord duke,” she lifted her chin, “my aim will prove more accurate next time. Either that or your hide is simply too tough to pierce.” Silver cursed her sharp tongue as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Such free speech was ever getting her into trouble.

  The duke’s eyes widened. “Do you often speak your mind?”

  She expelled a sigh. “I’m afraid so. It’s one of my many faults.”

  “Faults?” He drew his brows. “What faults?”

  Silver turned and scanned the gray-green water, keenly aware of her drab, ill-fitting dress. Her clothes contrasted starkly with the duke’s burgundy superfine coat and polished black hessians. The grape-size ruby glinting in the center of his cravat probably cost more money than she would ever see in her lifetime. They were from two different worlds, and she had better not forget it. “There isn’t enough time on this voyage to list them all.”

  When the duke didn’t respond, she glanced over her shoulder. He had his arms crossed and wore a puzzled frown. He started to say something, then halted and cleared his throat. “You are headed home?”

  Home. Scotland, the place of her birth. The place of her mother’s death. She shook her head. She really had no home. “Just visiting. I live in England now.”

  He stepped up to her side at the rail. “Are you unhappy about visiting Scotland or living in England?”

  “Both,” she whispered, “and I would rather not discuss the matter at any length.” She gripped the side of her dress, about to move around the duke, when she noticed his companion standing there.

  “I should very much like an introduction, Your Grace,” the man insisted.

  “This is Garrett Somersby. Garrett, please meet Sylvia…”

  At his pause, she turned to the attractive man, noting his deep-brown eyes and infectious grin. “MacLaren,” she said with a smile. The duke must have forgotten.

  Garrett gave a small bow. “It is my pleasure to…” He stopped and his eyes widened. “MacLaren, is it?”

  “Yes, Mr. Somersby.”

  “Is MacLaren your married name?”

  Her chest went tight. No, she would not think of him. “I am not married, Mr. Somersby.”

  “You must call me Garrett,” he said, his grin returning.

  Now this fellow, she quite liked. Using his given name at this point would be improper, but what could be the harm? They were miles from the nearest drawing room. “Then I insist you call me Silver.”

  He stepped closer. “Permit me to ask another question, Silver.” At her nod, he continued. “Do you have kin in Scotland, one named Duncan?”

  “Yes, my eldest brother. I’m traveling to his home with my aunt to tell him my news.”

  “Good news, I presume?” His mouth curled into a smile.

  She tried not to shudder. “Some would say that.” But I wouldn’t.

  Silver was about to ask how he knew her brother when a forceful sigh sounded, causing her and Garrett to turn. The duke glowered at them. He probably considered her unfit company for his friend, and anger shot through her. She should have known the Duke of Huntington would react in such a way.

  “Silver?”

  Aunt Prudence’s voice drifted to her just in time. She had been about to step up to the duke and give him what for.

  “Did you hear what she said?” Daniel asked.

  “That she’s related to the man who is selling you a horse?” Garrett answered.

  “Yes. I wonder why I didn’t notice the connection earlier.”

  “Probably too busy noticing other things about her.”

  Daniel turned from Silver’s retreating form to frown at his friend. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Sure you do.”

  He crossed his arms, refusing to agree with Garrett. “Why is it every time I asked Silver about going to Scotland, she refused to answer a word.” He gritted his teeth. “But she answered every one of your ruddy questions.”

  Garrett smiled wide. “Perhaps she finds me irresistible.” He wagged his brows.

  “Don’t be an ass,” Daniel said and listened to his friend’s unsuccessful attempt to smother a chuckle.

  “I suppose we must be extra kind to her now.”

  He got the distinct feeling the “we” in that statement really meant him. “And why should we do that?”

  “You want to purchase a horse that belongs to her brother, remember? Being nice to his sister would make the sale go a lot easier, if you know what I mean.”

  Daniel knew exactly what his friend meant. He also wondered why it was so easy for Silver to speak to Garrett and not to him. Any reason that came to mind only made him angry. And stung his pride. He slipped his hand into his pocket and traced the miniature with his finger. Would he forever be attracted to women who were attracted to someone else? He tensed. Christ, no, not like his father!

  Running a hand through his hair, Daniel sighed. He wished like hell he were racing Zeus over the flat field near the lake back home instead of stuck here on this bloody boat. Too long in a cramped space made him restless. And being restless always fouled his mood.

  “I’m going to the cabin to steal a glass of that fine Madeira you brought,” Garrett said with a grin as he walked away.


  Daniel shook his head and leaned his shoulder against the mizzenmast. A light rose fragrance drifted to him and he turned to the rail across the way. His heart skidded to a halt. Silver had draped herself over the wood, studying something in the water. And the way she kept edging forward, balancing on the tips of her shoes, it wouldn’t be long before she was food for the fish.

  Without thought, he raced to her and put his hands around her waist.

  She yelped and flailed her arms. Daniel had the deuce of a time keeping them both from toppling over.

  “You little fool.” He set her up right, his heart knocking about in his chest, and turned her to face him. “Have you a death wish?”

  “No, but you do, if you do not remove your hands.” Her eyes sparkled with anger.

  He lowered his arms, wondering how she could be so upset with him for saving her ruddy life. “What were you doing?”

  She took a deep breath and relaxed in small degrees. “I was watching the fish swim beside the boat.”

  A sudden heave of the ship caused her to slip backwards. Daniel gritted his teeth and reached for her, yanking her hard against him so she wouldn’t fall into the water.

  Her eyes grew round with surprise and her cheeks bloomed red. His gaze traveled over her face, wanting to know every detail. Her soft, rosy lips parted, and a shuddering breath escaped. Before he could think straight, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted like peaches.

  Daniel jerked away. What was he doing? Lady Megan had just broken their engagement— The light slowly dawned and he took a step back, furious. Silver stirred something inside him he damn well shouldn’t be feeling.

  Spinning around, he stormed to his cabin without a backwards glance. Opening the door, he barely refrained from slamming the thing loose of its hinges.

  “Blasted woman.” He paced the room. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him? He had absolutely no reason to look at Silver or to kiss her…or to want her. Damnation, why couldn’t she have stayed hidden behind those spectacles and that ugly bonnet?