Only You: Duke of Rutland Series III

by Elizabeth St. Michel

  “We can discuss the Indians in the Colonies. I have a fascination for some of their customs.” Duke Cornelius stared at her lips, his head hovering near her face, and for one moment she thought he meant to kiss her. “You are an intoxicating combination of beauty and grace.”

  She blinked not only from the rapid and bizarre change in subject manner but by the fact he had finessed her to an outer courtyard. No one was about. Inside the shell of calm, she’d closed around her was a chaos so loud, she couldn’t think. “Duke Cornelius, I tire from so much dancing and wish refreshment,” she whispered in warning and stepped back from him.

  The duke held her fast. “I am utterly captivated with you, Lucretia.”

  “I am not Lucretia.” She flung his arms from her. Took two steps back. He had called her Lucretia at the opera, and it was the second time he had mistaken her for Nicholas’s mother.

  He stood there for a moment, his imperturbable black eye studying her. The glass eye, unmovable and just as black, haunting her, and in sharp contrast to his snowy white wig. Perhaps he was one of those unfortunate souls whose mind weaved in and out of two worlds. For a long time, he was so silent, she thought he’d turned to wood.

  “My apologies, Lady Alexandra. I will fetch your champagne.” He turned and strode off toward the house.

  The moment he walked through the archway, Alexandra’s breath came out in a long rush of relief. Whirling around, she hurried to the far end of the courtyard, entering the ballroom on the opposite side.

  From that point on, she was tense and jumpy, half expecting the Duke of Westbrook to accost her in the ballroom. While dancing with another swain, she spied him twice more, standing alone next to a pillar. When he vanished, she was thoroughly relieved.

  She danced several more sets and allowed her last partner to escort her to Aunt Margaret and Rachel. Surrounded by a bevy of admirers plying for her attention, Alexandra laughed and allowed them to flirt outrageously, anything to divert the tension coiling in her stomach. Even Aunt Margaret and Rachel laughed from their antics.

  There was no mistaking the rigid line of Nicholas’s shoulders or the taut line of his jaw as he headed straight to her. Jealous? This was a side of Nicholas she had not seen before and a new experience for her.

  “Knowing my nephew, suppressing his Neanderthal roots, watching you dance with other men is an exercise for him,” said Aunt Margaret. “I’m surprised he doesn’t wield a club.”

  When he was near, he flicked a level, impassive glance over the men standing around Alexandra, and they parted to make a place for him as if he had ordered them aside. He glanced over his shoulder at the manservant hovering near the wall, and drinks were produced without a word being spoken.

  He offered his arm and maneuvered her away to the privacy of the next two columns, yet within decorum. She was happy to be alone with him.

  Grinning wolfishly, he surveyed her gown.

  Alexandra lifted her chin and offered, “The underskirts are soft and full as angels’ wings so that when I glide past, you can hear the material sighing across the floor, or so claims the dressmaker.”

  His mouth quirked in a smile and his gaze dipped to touch the rounded fullness of her breasts where they pushed up against her décolletage.

  Self-consciously, she ran her fingers over the clinging silk folds of her dress, her muscles, belly-low, tightened. “Your manners are outrageous, Lord Rutland. You make me feel undressed and how you manage not to choke on fumes of sulfur is a marvel.”

  “I hate this charade. I’m beginning to think Aunt Margaret has a twisted sense of humor and enjoys seeing me chomp at the bit with her proprietary rules. You belong to me. Not those infantile swains mooning about you.”

  Alexandra laughed. “I cannot be seen overly long with you. My reputation will be ruined.”

  “Reputation be damned. With that gown you are wearing, I’m ready for a fight…allowing these juveniles to ogle you. I have half a mind to carry you off—”

  She sipped her champagne, her gaze roving over his body inch by inch, from head to foot, deliberately repaying him for the lingering glance he’d subjected her to. His nostrils flared. Her feminine side basked in the power she had over him.

  His voice dipped deep and husky. “Rather bold, my lady. When we were on the island, I would have thrown you on the sand and made wicked love to you for such activity, our bodies sticking and sucking in the tropical heat.”

  Her nipples hardened as if he had lightly scraped his thumbs over them.

  “Hell, when we are alone tonight, I will touch and taste every part of you until your body hums.”

  “A pulsing, throbbing desire pulsed from her center core. Damn him. He was just as adept at this game as she was. “Nicholas, you must stop. Your father approaches.”

  Duke Richard Rutland joined them while Alexandra tamped down the flames Nicholas had wrought. The gentleman accompanying his father was richly dressed in a green embroidered frockcoat, satin vest and matching breeches, yet his face, like a pumice stone, flaunted dissonance with his white wig. She was so glad Nicholas did not adopt the style of headdress and wore his dark hair, fashionably pulled back in a queue.

  “Lady Sutherland, may I introduce you to Lord Drummond. We serve together in Parliament,” said Nicholas’s father.

  Alexandra blinked. Was this the man responsible for what had happened to the Rutland’s? What scheming had Nicholas and his father devised? Was this the product of their conspiring and what had required their attention all afternoon?

  No. Nicholas and his father were trying to figure out who the Rutland enemies were and wanted her opinion.

  “Lord Nicholas, always a pleasure. How was your trip on the island? Your shipboard journey with the Portuguese? I understand you were to sail onto Brazil. How horrible your fate would have been enslaved in the jungle,” said Lord Drummond.

  Nicholas placed his glass on a servant’s passing tray, and then narrowed his eyes on the English lord. “You are well informed of my travels, Lord Drummond.”

  Lord Drummond’s lip curled back. “It is my business to know the goings on in London.”

  Alexandra looked from Nicholas to Duke Richard to Lord Drummond. Hostility brewed and roiled as thick as a suffocating cloud.

  “Your journey, Lady Sutherland,” Lord Drummond addressed her, “must have an interesting twist as does your mysterious reappearance.”

  Nicholas took a step into Lord Drummond. “She is Lady Alexandra Sutherland. There is no doubt.”

  Her heart panged. Nicholas protected her. He did not leave room for suspicion about her heritage.

  Lord Drummond put up his hands. “I bow to your greater knowledge. No need for an altercation and I certainly do not desire a calling out.” He turned to Alexandra. “My apologies, if there is any offense, Lady Sutherland.”

  “None whatsoever.” Alexandra placed her hand on Nicholas’s arm, his muscles flexed beneath his coat. She angled her head to the gathering stares. “A spectacle would be momentous.”

  “You have profited well with the warfare in the Colonies,” Duke Richard accused.

  Alexandra raised an eyebrow to Nicholas’s father’s baiting of Lord Drummond.

  “Keeps me heavy in the pockets,” Lord Drummond said.

  Deep, rough-edged with deadly calm, Lord Richard Rutland said, “You care nothing for your country, but wish only to suck her inmost vitals, to feast on her entrails, and finally glut your devouring maws on her lifeless corpse. Your kind are a scourge to England.”

  When Drummond smiled, he reminded Alexandra of a vulgar caricature she had seen of a corpulent man, his lips drawn back, his broad teeth displayed like the white keys of a pianoforte and gorging on a whole ox.

  “It would be healthier for you, Lord Rutland to oblige the current policies.”

  “Is that a threat?” said Duke Richard. “I hope not.”

  A muscle ticked in Nicholas’s jaw. “You will save yourself pain and trouble by admitting your mistakes
.”

  “Mistakes? I never make the same mistake twice.” Lord Drummond was cryptic.

  Nicholas and Duke Richard’s provocation was deliberate. Alexandra widened her eyes. The Duke of Westbrook joined them.

  Nicholas curved his hands into fists. “Be aware, I’ll not be a fool nor will I allow lenience to stand in my way, to exercise what is proper revenge.”

  “How dare you threaten me,” said Drummond.

  “Perhaps you would indulge me and make a scene…or…we can go outside.”

  “Now see here.” And then a sudden realization dawned on Lord Drummond as he interpreted the real bone of contention. His face grew mottled with rage. “How dare you accuse me of misdeeds done to you and your family. I claim nothing about it, nor will I continue this conversation.” He pivoted and left.

  “He is lying,” said Cornelius. “There should be serious consequences for what he has done to your family.”

  Nicholas lips were pressed together in a thin line as he watched Lord Drummond cross the ballroom, and then he glared at the Duke of Westbrook. Alexandra let out a breath. Nicholas, all powerful and lean grace, hauled her onto the dance floor.

  She stepped on Nicholas’s foot, apologized. “I believe Lord Drummond is telling the truth. Greed is his only master, not conspiracy.”

  “Stop being nervous. Didn’t I tell you everything is going to work out perfectly?”

  “You have told me nothing. I have just witnessed an altercation with Lord Drummond and your family and wasn’t told beforehand. I’m upset because you have left me in the dark all day.”

  “The exchange with Lord Drummond was a calculated provocation and he passed with flying colors. Yet, what you should be feeling is embarrassment for me.”

  She choked. “How is that?”

  “You left me impotent by knocking out the wretch with the scar with an ink bottle. If word got around—”

  Alexandra laughed. “By the way, I’ve invited a surprise guest tomorrow for tea.”

  “Who?”

  “Lady Jane Dabney Winthrop.” Alexandra summarized the confrontation in the dressing room. A swift revelation occurred to her. Eyes widening, she said, “Leave it to you, Nicholas to make me laugh and distract me.”

  “I’d like to distract you other ways, but we have other more important issues to address.” Nicholas angled his head to the top of the stairs. “Your stepmother and Willean have arrived.”

  On cue, Duke Richard Rutland bowed to Lady Ursula Sutherland. He guided her and her son, Willean to the far corner of the ballroom where a drape covered an exit. A footman held back the drape and opened the door so they could enter Lord and Lady Somer’s private quarters. Nicholas’s father was solicitous and flattering. Ursula could not refuse, and enamored with the Duke of Rutland’s sole attention.

  Patting Alexandra’s hand, Nicholas steered her into the room and toward the trio. To finally face Ursula and Willean. So many years, so many emotions. She stopped.

  Nicholas whispered in her ear. “You never told me about the enormous black mole on your stepmother’s cheek. Looks like a hairy spider sunk its fangs into her skin permanently, planting itself there.”

  “I know what you are doing, Nicholas.”

  “You can do it, Alexandra. I’m behind you. My father has arrangements in play. Trust me. She cannot hurt you anymore.” He propelled her forward.

  When Alexandra entered, Lady Ursula’s face went through a myriad of changes from shock, to hatred, to glaring. “So here is the thief who broke into my home. I will have you arrested for robbing me.”

  “Really?” said Alexandra, reassured by Nicholas’s strong presence as he moved beside her.

  “What about your kidnapping of Alexandra Sutherland?” said Nicholas.

  Lady Ursula’s voice held a rasp of acidity. “Lord Rutland. What would ever give you such thoughts?”

  Willean cursed. “This woman is a liar and an imposter.”

  “An imposter? What motivated you to put me on a Portuguese slaver, Lady Ursula?” said Alexandra.

  “I do not know anything about what you speak of, whoever you claim to be,” said Ursula.

  “To reinforce any skepticism, I am Lady Alexandra Sutherland as proven by documents taken from my own home, and true heiress to the Sutherland holdings that you stole from me as a child.”

  Ursula snorted, looked rabidly about. “You are an imposter, parading around, impersonating a child who died years ago. Those documents are worthless. You’d never be able to prove it.”

  “You killed Molly and you poisoned my father,” Alexandra said through angry tears.

  Ursula’s laugher trilled across the room. “Stephen’s bones have been cold for seventeen years. All you have is the ramblings of a madwoman. No one in their right mind would ever listen to a beggared fortune hunter and her tales.”

  A disturbance came from the opposite side of the room. Doors opened. Soldiers filed in, and then the King appeared, followed by her father’s butler, Andrew Baines. Lady Ursula’s face flashed horror. Shocked, Alexandra fell into a deep curtsy as well as everyone else. “Your Majesty.”

  Willean bowed, and started shaking.

  “You are an evil woman, Lady Ursula, and the whole world will know it,” said Alexandra emboldened by the presence of the King. “There was one eye witness to your crime, Andrew Baines. He also heard you bragging about what you did to Molly. He even produced the bottle of poison that you used to kill my father.”

  “Take them to the magistrate,” ordered the King.

  Willean stepped backward, threw off his guards and ran to the door. Nicholas stuck out his leg, tripping him and he sprawled on the floor. “I’ve done nothing—” He pounded his fists on the parquet, screaming until the guards lifted him.

  “You were an accessory, and it was your idea to sell me into slavery,” said Alexandra.

  Lady Ursula attempted to shake off her guards, her voice dripping with venom. “I should have had you killed, Alexandra, but foolish Willean had a soft heart.”

  “Enough,” snapped the King. “I’ve heard evidence from Andrew Baines and Lord Rutland, and I don’t want my evening spoiled more than it has already.”

  The King turned to Alexandra. “Lady Sutherland, your father was a good friend of mine. I was saddened at the time of his passing and enraged when I learned of the machinations of Lady Ursula and her son.

  “Now to the matter of the Sutherland lands. Lord Richard petitioned me in your favor and as it is known that some titles are distinctive and pass onto female heirs. My secretary has read your papers as dictated by your father’s hand, and it is my pleasure to inform, that you will be bequeathed the Sutherland lands and do not need to go any further with officialdom. I waive all constraints as to what is duly yours.”

  “Thank you, your Majesty.” Alexandra pressed a hand to her chest. The presence of the King and his support left her dazed. So, this was the big secret Nicholas and his father and conspired all afternoon.

  All the sacrifice, struggle and suffering triumphed in justice. With certainty, her father and Molly were smiling down on her. Just then the room began to move. Dizzy, sweat beaded on her forehead. Oh dear, was she going to swoon?

  “I look forward to your upcoming nuptials,” said the King, winking at Nicholas. “I assume I’ll be invited.”

  Nicholas bowed and Alexandra saw a pleased sparkle in his eyes as she curtseyed again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The King clapped his hand on Duke Richard’s shoulder. “Cousin, I’d like a good game of chess and lack for decent competitors. It has been too long.”

  Duke Richard laughed as he walked away with King George and his retinue. “In the future, I will produce an opponent, in fact, my new daughter-in-law to be who has surprising aptitude.”

  Chapter 28

  In the south salon of the Duke of Rutland’s townhouse, Sebastian, the butler announced Lady Jane Winthrop Dabney. Alexandra smiled and motioned Lady Jane to a brocade settee. Nicholas had
volunteered to take her son, John for a tour of the gardens.

  Alexandra poured tea, having dismissed all the servants for the privacy of the occasion. Lady Jane looked at the grandeur, clasped and unclasped her hands. “I’m overwhelmed by your attention, Lady Sutherland, and for Lord Rutland to take an interest in my son, giving him a tour of the gardens, but I am unable for the life of me to understand why?”

  Alexandra placed her hand on the older woman to quell her shaking. “You are in good company, Lady Jane. You do not need to be worried.”

  “May I ask how you made the acquaintance of Captain Sharp? Is he alive?”

  Alexandra shook her head sadly, allowing the truth to sink in.

  Lady Jane began to cry.

  “I want you to know, your Captain Sharp, in a way, saved our lives.”

  She frowned. “Saved your lives?”

  Alexandra nodded and gave her a summary of events, how they found the cottage and supplies that helped them survive. Finally, she presented the locket and well-thumbed book. “This is Captain Sharp’s diary. He died with the locket you gave him over his heart. He never stopped loving you.”

  Lady Jane took the locket, clenching the gold heart-shaped piece in her fist. “This is my locket. I remember giving it to him before he left. When he didn’t return—”

  “—You thought he had died. But he lived.” Alexandra tapped the book. “In his diary, you will learn that he had returned to England, discovered you were married and expecting your first child. In no way did he desire to upset your life. Heartbroken, he quietly moved away to a deserted island and lived out his days alone.”

  Lady Dabney placed her palm on her chest. “If I only knew, I would have sailed away with him. I loved John more than life itself.”

  She started crying, full drenching sobs. “I waited and waited for him. I found myself with John’s child. My father was a strict man and would have thrown me out on the streets. My only recourse was to accept Sir Dabney’s proposal. I never loved him.”

  “Sir Dabney,” Alexandra said.