The Duke’s Indiscretion

by Adele Ashworth

  “Well?” he prodded, keeping his gaze fixed on the man.

  Sir Thomas relaxed a little and fussed with the tie at his thick neck, then perched his elbows on the wooden armrests, his fingers interlocked in front of his chest. “Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t confront me at home yesterday,” he said casually.

  That blasé reply irritated him, and he stretched one leg out, folding his arms across his chest. “I considered it, but decided I wanted to collect my thoughts first.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  He snorted. “No, you don’t.” After wiping one palm harshly down his face, he added, “Do you have any idea what trouble you’ve caused me?”

  The older man’s brows rose innocently. “Trouble? You wanted to meet Lottie English. I made that possible.”

  Colin shook his head, closing his eyes briefly before gazing back at the man. “You could have told me her identity. As it was, you left me unprepared.”

  “Unprepared for what?”

  “Unprepared for what? For her, for Christ’s sake,” he replied harshly.

  Sir Thomas continued to watch him closely for a moment, then leaned forward, still clutching his hands together as he placed them on the desktop. “What exactly happened that’s got you so riled up, Colin?”

  Although Sir Thomas was technically his employer, the man also remained his inferior by title, and almost never used his Christian name. Doing so now surprised him almost as much as it made his irritation worse.

  No longer able to sit still, he rose abruptly and shoved his hands in the pockets of his rain-dampened topcoat as he walked to the window, peering out to the grayness of early afternoon.

  “She’s cornered me,” he said soberly.

  Sir Thomas chuckled, and he flipped his head around to stare the man down.

  “It isn’t funny. The woman wants to marry me, for God’s sake, and she’s using her…Lottie English persona to entice me into it.”

  “Entice you?”

  “Yes, entice me.”

  Silence reigned for a moment or two and he looked back outside, seeing nothing as the rain picked up once more, splattering the glass and blurring his vision.

  Finally, Sir Thomas said, “You don’t have to marry anyone not of your choosing. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that, your grace. So what’s the real problem?”

  Colin rubbed his eyes. “I’m not ready to encumber myself like that yet.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” Sir Thomas replied. “To everybody, I should think.”

  He ignored the second part of that comment. “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t even know. Especially a plain girl who plays the piano better than I do.”

  “Everybody plays the piano better than you do—”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “—and she’s not all that plain, either.”

  He grunted. “She’s smart.”

  “Yes, she is. But what I really want to know,” the older man continued, “is what happened to make you think you need to marry the girl?”

  He’d assumed Sir Thomas was part of the whole blasted plan, but by the sound of the man’s perplexed questioning, he was beginning to suspect the idea of a “convenient” marriage had manifested itself in Charlotte’s mind alone.

  He turned around to face his superior again, noting how Sir Thomas’s features had changed into hard lines, his lips had thinned. He didn’t look mad, exactly, just…irritated, as if he still had trouble grasping the gravity of the situation Colin was undoubtedly explaining badly.

  Suddenly he felt drained. Pulling his arms from his topcoat, he removed it, then returned to the chair he’d sat in momentarily, tossing his coat over the wooden back before lowering his body into the seat, slumping into it this time.

  “I did as you asked and paid a visit to the Earl of Brixham Friday last,” he began, “and offered quite a decent sum for his pianoforte. The man agreed and sold it to me. While I was there, I had the good fortune of meeting the wily Lady Charlotte, who, as I later came to realize, recognized me as the man who met her the previous weekend when she sang upon the stage as Lottie English. Of course I had no idea they were one and the same person.”

  His voice had risen during his diatribe, and he forced himself to control his annoyance. Sir Thomas just watched him, nodding, and so he continued.

  “The following day, she had the temerity to come and visit me with a proposition of marriage. Marriage, for God’s sake.” He shook his head. “The woman certainly has nerve.”

  “I think you mean, the lady?”

  Of course he knew she was a lady. “What’s your point?”

  Sir Thomas sat up a little, adjusting his stout frame in the chair that looked scarcely able to support his weight. “It sounds like a very good match to me,” he said with a shrug.

  “That is certainly irrelevant,” he growled.

  The older man leaned back again, eyeing him speculatively. “Why did you come here, your grace, if not to get my thoughts on the matter?”

  Colin stared the man down. “I want to know if her brother is indeed in debt, and a problem for which you truly need my skills.” He paused, then lowered his voice to add, “Was the job you assigned me a complete fabrication, Thomas?”

  It took a long moment for the man to answer, he mused, and Colin hoped he wasn’t using the time to contrive a reasonable response. He needed honesty now.

  Sir Thomas drew in a long breath at last, then blew it out slowly through puffed lips. “He is in debt; that part is quite true.” He waited, then thoughtfully conceded, “But I admit I sent you there, primarily, to give you an opportunity to meet the Lady Charlotte.”

  “Because you knew she was Lottie English,” he stated blandly, though feeling his muscles tensing uncomfortably beneath his clothes.

  Sir Thomas nodded. “Yes.”

  He supposed he expected more than a simple acknowledgment, and yet despite this, he’d gotten the honesty he wanted. Exasperated, he asked, “Why didn’t you just tell me who she was? At least I could have been prepared for her impudent intrusion into my home.”

  Sir Thomas scoffed. “Nonsense. Besides, it wasn’t my place, Colin. She didn’t—doesn’t—want anyone to know.”

  “And how did you find out?” he asked a bit sarcastically.

  The man shrugged. “I’m employed by the Crown to know these things.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  Sir Thomas patted his oiled hair down atop his head. “Let’s just say I guessed.”

  Colin stood abruptly. “You know the family.”

  “Yes, and I knew her father quite well. I don’t, however, trust her brother. He’s the one who’s kept her secluded and tightly under his thumb for the last three years, and he’s very upset at her choice of…career, shall we say.”

  “So you thought perhaps I’d like to get her out of her unfortunate situation at home by marrying her?” he asked, aghast.

  The older man’s eyes narrowed. “Not in the least. But you did want to meet Lottie English. I arranged that for you.”

  “And now I look the fool,” he remarked in muted embarrassment.

  “I’m sure the Lady Charlotte thinks no such thing or she wouldn’t have come to your home to offer herself in marriage.”

  Colin rubbed his eyes, his nerves on edge. “As ridiculous as that sounds, you have no idea what transpired between us the night of the opera.”

  After a very long pause, Sir Thomas sighed. “On the contrary, Colin. I’m quite certain I do.”

  The wind picked up as the rain grew heavier, now splattering the window in sheets that matched the tumultuous rush of blood through his veins.

  Of course he knew. Everybody knew of his reputation with the ladies, and it irked him a little that he could be so transparent to the nobility at large, especially when he didn’t exactly try to be blatant about his sexual escapades. Truthfully, he’d only wanted to have a little fun, to thoroughly enjoy a full bachelor life for as long
as he could before duty tied him down to a sniveling wife and a house of brats. Was that so wrong?

  Groaning aloud, he started pacing the little room, his hands on his hips, head down.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he said rather weakly, words he’d likely never repeat to anyone else in the world.

  Sir Thomas chuckled again. “That’s the easy part. It’s a perfect match socially, and you can have Miss English. My advice is to marry the girl.”

  “I don’t want to get married,” he fairly blurted. Then deciding he sounded like a child, he added formally, “I should say, I don’t want to marry now. I’m not ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  Colin couldn’t think of a response to that, and Sir Thomas evidently understood the confusion playing out in his mind.

  “Your grace, if I may be so bold?”

  Colin stopped pacing and stood erect, facing the man again.

  “Please,” he said with a casual wave of his hand.

  Sir Thomas eyed him directly, his lids narrowed in assessment. “Marriage is something nobody is prepared for. Not entirely. But it’s a step that must be taken eventually, especially by someone of your class. You need an heir, and it’s beyond time you produced one now that your father is gone. It’s your duty as a man of your station, which I’m sure has at the very least crossed your mind. Lady Charlotte can provide that—”

  “Now you sound like her, ever practical.”

  The older man smiled in understanding. “As you said, she’s smart. Frankly, I think she’s considered this more clearly than you seem to be doing at the moment, and that’s unusual considering how women can sometimes be so irrational.”

  “I’m not being irrational,” he said defensively. “I’m trying to be logical. I don’t even know her.”

  Candidly, his hands folded in front of him, Sir Thomas replied, “I don’t care how long the courting process takes, one never knows his spouse until one is actually married. You could court the Lady Charlotte for months, even bed her as Lottie English, and it still wouldn’t prepare you for marriage.” Dropping his voice to just above a whisper, he concluded, “You’re obviously attracted to each other. That’s the first step. Now do your duty and accept her…proposal. Get yourself a wife and heir. The rest will come as it does.”

  “The rest? The trouble, you mean,” he said sullenly.

  Sir Thomas lifted one shoulder in shrug. “Perhaps. But there are many beneficial things that come with marriage as well. You simply have to plunge in, head first.”

  Colin almost smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this whole mess.”

  The man’s brows rose in innocence. “Me? It’s not my place to plan your future, your grace.”

  He snorted, reaching for his coat. “Well said, my friend.”

  “But Lottie English is every man’s fantasy,” Sir Thomas added through an exaggerated sigh, relaxing again in his chair. “I envy you.”

  Colin drew a long, deep breath, realizing at last that his future had altered the moment he set eyes on those luscious curves all those years ago.

  He wanted her. He’d wanted her then and he could have her now—legally, willingly, and forevermore. Everything Sir Thomas said, every persuasion he offered, concluded that for him.

  Jerking his coat on, he turned for the door. “So help me, you’ll pay for this, Thomas,” he warned, hiding a smile.

  “You’ll invite me to the wedding, won’t you?”

  Colin suppressed a sarcastic retort as he closed the door to the inner office behind him, letting that question linger as he nodded once to Blaine and headed straight for the hallway.

  God, but his friends would have a good laugh over this one. The magnificent gala that had been his life was all but over, soon to be replaced by drudgery in the hands of a cunning female who wanted him for her own selfish pursuits. For everything but him.

  Not that it mattered, he decided as he stepped out through the Yard’s main doors and into the gray and gloomy afternoon, shaking off a curious wave of sadness that passed through him as a chill in the air.

  Nobody really knew him anyway.

  Chapter 6

  Colin stood in Earl Brixham’s sparsely decorated parlor, brushing his fingers through his damp hair while he awaited the arrival of the cunning Lady Charlotte. He’d come directly here after leaving Sir Thomas, to get the offer done, he supposed, before he thought better of the lifelong consequences and changed his mind. After giving his topcoat to the butler and requesting an audience with the earl, he paced the chilly room, finally stopping to stare at the ugly bright peaches-and cherries-dotted wallpaper, hoping the lady’s taste in home decor contained a bit more of a sophisticated edge. This room, though free of superfluous furnishings and useless trinkets, still fairly shrieked of bad taste within a cacophony of loud color—bright red apple, lemon yellow, and tangerine. It wasn’t a parlor, it was a fruit stand display. Perhaps his soon-to-be wife had chosen this look herself, though he could hardly imagine Lottie English being gauche in anything she did.

  God, what a mess. He’d already accepted her as his and he had yet to ask for her hand. Not that the question itself would matter at this point. He couldn’t decide if he were elated or annoyed that she’d taken all the bluster out of the only proposal of marriage he’d likely ever offer. But then nothing in his life had run very smoothly, nor along standard expectations.

  “Your grace, what a pleasant surprise.”

  Colin straightened his shoulders to present a regal bearing, his hands clasped behind him as the Earl of Brixham strode into the parlor in haste, his tone a combination of impatience and false humor, his gaze fixed into a hard stare. From the look of it, a call on the man today wasn’t a pleasant surprise at all.

  “This isn’t a bad time, is it Brixham?” he asked, fighting the urge to rub his scratchy eyes and drop his weary body into the threadbare settee behind him in defeat.

  “No, no, of course not,” the earl blustered, waving a palm through the air before closing the parlor doors for privacy. A sudden thought gave him pause. “I hope you’re not here to discuss our deal regarding the pianoforte.”

  “No, not at all,” Colin replied without embellishment.

  The earl’s thick brows furrowed as he gestured toward the settee in an invitation to sit. “Then what can I do for you today, sir?”

  As with their first meeting, something about the man’s demeanor irritated him. Dressed in casual attire, obviously not expecting visitors for tea, he wore plain, tan trousers and an equally unobtrusive matching shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He hadn’t donned any jewelry, and yet it seemed to Colin as if he were just the type of man to do so, for any occasion. He looked and acted ordinary enough, an Englishman at ease, at home in his surroundings, though beneath his smooth disposition there seemed to lurk a certain raw tension, perhaps a general frustration caused by concern for his future if his financial situation were indeed questionable. Still, the Earl of Brixham hadn’t done or said anything inappropriate or rude to him, surely nothing to garner such wariness on his part, and yet the man would soon become his brother-in-law, and Colin couldn’t put his finger on one agreeable thing about him.

  Doing his best to relax against the worn settee cushion, he crossed a leg over the opposite knee and interlaced his fingers in his lap. Getting right to the point, he stated, “I’ve come with an offer for Charlotte.”

  The earl didn’t even respond with a glance as he neared him. “Another offer? Surely you don’t think she possesses any antiques for your collection.”

  If he wasn’t so annoyed at the entire situation, Colin might be amused by the earl’s unsympathetic ignorance. “Doesn’t she, as a lady, possess some worth?” he asked wryly.

  Brixham paused beside a wingback chair, his thigh balanced against the armrest. “I beg your pardon?”

  Colin shrugged lightly. “You said she needed a husband, and after careful thought, I’ve decided a match between the Lady Charlotte a
nd myself would be…optimal. So, I’m here to offer for her hand.”

  It was a groundbreaking moment to be sure as Earl Brixham seemed to pale before his eyes, his mouth parting a fraction in bewilderment.

  Colin waited, expression flat, actually enjoying the man’s shock.

  Finally Brixham swallowed, and without looking at it, grabbed the opposite armrest of the chair at his side and more or less plopped down hard on the seat. “Why Charlotte?”

  “Why not?” Colin gave him a half smile. “Does it matter?”

  Seconds passed in silence. Then the earl abruptly recovered from his initial daze, shaking himself and pulling down on his cuffs as he straightened in his seat and resumed a formal posture.

  “I apologize, your grace. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting an offer of marriage, especially when you seemed so…unaffected by my sister at your first meeting. You clearly weren’t interested in taking a wife only a week or two ago, and now…well…here you are.” He chuckled, patting down on the back of his hair. “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  Colin forced himself from squirming in his chair, annoyed that he hadn’t considered the suddenness of the proposal and how it might look to the lady’s brother. On the other hand, he really didn’t need to explain himself, or his actions; the man needed the financial support the union would provide and clearly wanted to free himself from the very real possibility of caring for a spinster sister until his dying breath. Colin could do that for him and they both knew it.

  Tenting his fingers in front of him, he nodded as if he completely understood the earl’s concern. “You’re right, of course, but after considering everything in the last few days, I’ve decided it’s time for me to do the honorable thing and marry. Meeting the Lady Charlotte has presented me with a socially acceptable and logical choice.” He paused for emphasis, then added, “And I do need an heir.”