The Last Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  He wanted to ask Lore if he knew his sister had visited him two mornings ago of or if he was aware of the agreement he and Valiant had made years ago. But Anthony already knew the answer and that saying the words would definitely lead to fisticuffs.

  And maybe the brothers would work to keep him and Valiant separate. She was a widow and free do what she wished, but Anthony knew the family to be close. If all her brothers told her to stay away, she might feel inclined to listen.

  Dinner was called a moment later and Lore preceded Anthony to the dining room.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  0 9

  “I recall the time you broke your leg,” Benedict said to Anthony—all evening he’d been referring to the duke in informal terms—as he began yet another tale from the duke’s childhood.

  Valiant, like the others, listened as Benedict spun one intriguing story after another. During the last hour, Valiant and her family had learned how much Anthony didn’t like vegetables and had even gone as far as to hide them in his shoes as a child. Benedict had also shared a few of the games Anthony’s mother had created for the children to play, which had proved to be very adventurous.

  She was surprised when Anthony didn’t object to anything Benedict said, though he did make a comment every once in a while. He’d also hesitated when Benedict shared that Anthony usually spent his winters close to Scotland, because that was where his mother resided. He was apparently very protective of her.

  She’d witnessed the duke stiffen and then relax before giving Benedict a pointed look.

  And naturally, his friend had changed the subject.

  She’d begun to understand even more why Anthony wanted a wife who was astute. His mother was clearly a wise woman, and Valiant admired him further for approving of his mother’s intelligence.

  It seemed like Beatrix and Everly were inclined to do the same. They gave Anthony a few smiles before turning back to Benedict.

  Anthony did nothing more than lower his head. A few times, his silver gaze caught Valiant’s and she’d smile brilliantly at him.

  He sat across from her and always held her gaze before turning away.

  She was happy. Everything she was learning would help her find him a wife, she was sure of it.

  What woman didn’t want a man who esteemed his mother’s wisdom?

  “We were on horseback,” Benedict said as he continued a story about how Anthony had broken his leg. “I believe we were eleven.”

  “I believe that’s enough,” Anthony said quietly.

  Benedict looked surprised.

  As did everyone else.

  “You were eleven,” Everly told him. “Surely, you do not believe we would judge you for it.” Then, before Anthony could answer, she turned to Benedict. “Do go on. I’m enjoying myself, learning about the mysterious Duke of Cartelle.”

  Benedict turned to Anthony.

  A muscle jumped in Anthony’s jaw, but he gave a simple nod.

  The earl cleared his throat before he went on. “We were… racing. Yes.” He straightened in his chair. “It was to be between Anthony and me, but naturally, Anthony would have won.”

  “Only because he had better horses,” Beatrix said, coming to her brother’s defense.

  Benedict looked mildly sheepish. “Yes, well, you’ll never guess who joined us.”

  “Oh, I remember this,” Beatrix said. “It was the Duke of Cartelle. Anthony’s father.”

  “Yes.”

  Again, Anthony went rigid. Though she didn’t watch him head-on, Valiant saw the sudden movement.

  “Anthony was a very good rider,” Benedict said. “I’d even overheard other gentlemen say he was faster than his father.” Benedict grinned. “So, that evening, the duke wished to prove himself.”

  Valiant looked at Anthony. He’d relaxed and was sporting one of his bland expressions, though she wondered now if he did so in order to hide his true feelings.

  “The race was close,” Benedict said. “At least, the duke and Anthony were neck and neck and riding within reach of each other. They raced around a pond to the east of their house. Then, suddenly, Anthony was in the air.”

  “Oh, no!” Brinley covered her cheeks as she paled. True fear rested in her gaze.

  Valiant’s own heart was racing, as though she didn’t already know how this tale ended. As though Anthony were not sitting across from her whole and well.

  Lore touched his wife’s shoulder. “Perhaps, this story is not suited for women.”

  As if the words had slapped every woman at the table, each of them began to demand its conclusion—even an irritated Arabella.

  Benedict chuckled. “I later asked Anthony what happened. He said he’d stopped in order to spare a swan that had thought to venture from the water as his horse rounded the bend.”

  There were soft ahs.

  Valiant smiled at Anthony once again, but he refused to meet her gaze this time. Instead, his eyes seemed vacant.

  When the meal ended, Valiant and the women went to the drawing room.

  Arabella decided upon showing everyone the other gift her husband had given her, but Valiant was too far in her own thoughts to listen. She sat on the couch a little distance away and pretended to be clinging to her hostess’ every word, while in reality, she was thinking about Anthony.

  Why had he feared such a story being told? Surely, he wasn’t embarrassed about losing a race to his father. She knew of men who might be, those who were competitive about everything, yet Anthony did not seem that sort of man. If anything, he didn’t seem particularly inclined toward anything.

  Except for bedding her, of course.

  She touched her neck where her pulse had picked up speed and then turned to noticed Beatrix was also quiet. She sat closer to the other women, but Valiant could tell something was amiss.

  Then their gazes met, and Beatrix quickly turned away. Valiant wondered at that as well.

  Finally, the men returned to the room, and Valiant stood to confront Anthony about his strange behavior at dinner.

  Asher approached and grabbed her arm before she’d moved too far. “I do not like this.”

  “What don’t you like?” She was barely paying attention. She tilted her head to look around her brother and found Anthony standing by the fire again.

  “This. I don’t like this,” her brother said. “I don’t like the way you look at him.”

  Valiant blinked and looked up at Asher. “How do I look at him?”

  “Like you look at me or Lore or Hero. Like he’s something broken you wish to fix. Like he’s someone you care for.”

  She parted her lips to tell her brother he was being silly and to say she didn’t care about Anthony at all.

  Yet the words would not leave her mouth. Her tongue rested heavy. She cleared her throat. “I don’t look at you or Lore or Hero as though any of you are broken.”

  “No, but you did.” He loosened his hold but didn’t pull away from her. “Be cautious. I’ll not have you hurt.”

  “Hurt?” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m only trying to help.”

  “Yes,” Asher said. “And you’ve the tendency to go about helping others by whatever means necessary.”

  “That’s not true,” Valiant said.

  He didn’t agree. “You came with me and Everly to London when I know you didn’t wish to be there, yet you knew Everly needed support while being accused of theft and I needed.... her.”

  That had all happened only months ago. It was hard to believe that Everly and Asher had only been married for a fortnight. They fit so beautifully.

  “You asked me to come,” Valiant reminded him. “You nearly forced me.” She’d been quite depressed after Noah’s death, but slowly she’d come out of her grief and entered society again.

  “You could have said no,” he countered. “Also, I know you worked equally as hard to see that Lore and Hero were happily married.” He glanced at Anthony before turning back to her. “I can’t help but recall finding you alone with Car
telle in his carriage two years ago.”

  She’d hoped her brother had forgotten that. She said nothing, refusing to make herself appear guiltier than she felt.

  “I never asked for a full account of what happened,” Asher said.

  “It is wrong that I wish to help people?” she asked.

  “Only if you can’t control yourself.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  He leaned toward her. “Do not give that man your heart. I’ll not see you hurt again.”

  Valiant’s pulse beat with wild fury in her head.

  “Asher.” Everly approached and took his other arm. “You must come see what Arabella has. I want one just like it.”

  He turned to her. “You have your own income. You may procure whatever you wish.” Those were rare words from any husband. Everly still received her own income, and Asher did nothing to take control of it even though, by law, everything that had once belonged to the wealthy heiress was now his.

  Everly seemed to shine with secrets. “Yes, but I want you to buy it for me.”

  Asher’s lips twitched. He turned back to Valiant. “Heed my warning.” Then he let her go and allowed his wife to lead him away.

  Valiant turned to Anthony and found him watching her. Though his expression was muted, she still felt as though he were beckoning her over, even pleading.

  Was Asher right? Did she see him as broken?

  A little.

  What lengths would she go to help him?

  She’d not give him her body. That, she would never do.

  Could never do.

  It would only lead to disappointment for both of them.

  She blushed at the thought.

  Then his gaze slipped down her body, and Valiant gasped at the warmth she felt fill her belly.

  That was new.

  Their eyes locked again.

  His eyes had turned to hardened metal, nearly demanding that she move toward him.

  Hero stepped in front of her. “Valiant, I need your opinion on a matter.”

  She took a deep breath and realized she’d stopped breathing while gazing at Anthony. “What?” She hoped her brother didn’t realize just how airy her voice sounded.

  His lips thinned. “Your opinion. I need it.”

  “On what?”

  “The Waterloo Bridge. Do you think it an appropriate name?” The bridge was to open soon across the Thames.

  Valiant lifted a brow. “I… don’t know. You would know better than I. You’re the soldier.”

  “You’re right.” He grabbed her elbow. “So, allow me to explain all the theories and opinions on this matter for you.”

  She widened her eyes. “What? Now?”

  “Yes,” he insisted.

  She frowned. “How long will this take?”

  “The rest of the evening.” Then he purposefully led her in the opposite direction of Anthony and proceeded to speak without allowing any interjections. Not even Beatrix could pull him away.

  When he finally finished, Valiant turned to note Anthony was gone.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 0

  “A lady for you, Your Grace,” Jefferson said to Anthony before leaving Valiant alone with him the next morning.

  He was surprised to see her. Surprised that she’d once again come to his home alone.

  She wore a dark green muslin that made her skin glow and highlighted just how flushed she became as she took him in.

  He was bare-chested. He stood at his wardrobe holding out a shirt but made no move to put it on.

  Her blue eyes became more brilliant as her cheeks became inflamed. Her labored breaths were visible. Her eyes became arrested at his waist before climbing higher.

  He’d have paid a heavy sum to have but a glimpse of her inner thoughts.

  Was that arousal in her gaze or embarrassment? Or both?

  “Your butler…” Her lips trembled slightly. “He is the worst. I wish to know where you found him so that I know never to go to that hiring agency.” Her eyes were on his now, glued to his face, stuck there as though the rest of him no longer existed.

  Slowly, he closed the wardrobe and turned fully to her.

  Her eyes again fell to his shoulders and then descended.

  Anthony hardened instantly.

  Then her gaze shot back up. “I’ll wait for you in your sitting room.” She turned, and he heard her feet rushing down the hall.

  He threw on his shirt and didn’t bother with the rest as he followed her. He knew his appearance wasn’t appropriate, but this was his domain and he would dress as he wished.

  Besides, he’d been in a further state of undress with other women in the past. The absence of a cravat, waistcoat, and jacket would do little harm.

  His legs were longer and thus he caught up with her in the middle of the hall.

  Grabbing her arm— the skin of which was the softest he’d ever felt— he turned her around and backed her into the wall.

  Her lips parted in wonder.

  She was so beautiful. Never had one woman put him in so many knots.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  He told himself not to think.

  Only act.

  His body would communicate his answer.

  * * *

  One touch of Anthony’s lips and Valiant came alive. Her body caught flame like a spark to tinder. For a man she found hard to describe, it took little work to detail his mouth. Soft and warm. It coaxed hers open with a skill that made her entire form shudder awake.

  She suddenly felt very heavy, drugged, as he kissed every reasonable thought from her mind and left only one.

  It resounded in her head. The loudness of it consumed her with a word she’d never heard before.

  Take.

  An unexpected hunger took over her, and Valiant was astounded to find her hands sliding through his soft hair. When had she reached for his head?

  No matter. His dark locks were like silk, and she found them fun to grab. It made holding him to her easier.

  He groaned. His hands took full possession of her hips and pulled her close.

  The exposed portion of her chest touched his. He’d not buttoned his shirt all the way.

  He was so hot.

  It was a shock and worked like a key to unlock the other part of her mind.

  Stop.

  “Stop,” she whispered against his mouth. Her fingers released his hair. She tried to take a step back but found she couldn’t. She was against the wall.

  Anthony took her bottom lip between his teeth, and she felt the slide of his tongue all the way down to her toes.

  His eyes were open and full of wolf-like intentions. He nearly looked crazed with hunger.

  A second passed and then another.

  He didn’t move.

  Both their breaths were rushed.

  She feared he’d kiss her again.

  She feared he wouldn’t.

  Anthony released her slowly, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Why are you here?”

  She was surprised she could recall why she’d come. “You seemed upset last night.” Her mind was working, but her voice was different. Her words trembled, but she pressed on. “Did Benedict say something you didn’t like?”

  He narrowed his gaze. “No.”

  She blinked and waited for more.

  He took a step back. “Is that all you came for?”

  She allowed herself to lower her gaze to take in his throat and the exposed triangle below. Neither did she allow herself to think about just how sensual his words had sounded. “Yes.”

  He studied her a moment or more and then said. “Your brothers don’t wish you around me.”

  She swallowed. “I’m aware.”

  “Perhaps, they are right to keep us apart.” His eyes turned hot again. “Even now, I can’t think of anything but stripping you, laying you on my bed...”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and gripped her shoulders, trying to control her trembling.<
br />
  He grinned. “You want that, don’t you?”

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t possibly. “This is wrong,” she whispered.

  “Why?” He moved into her space again, but her crossed arms kept him from getting too close. “Neither of us are wed.”

  That hadn’t been what she’d been speaking about.

  But she went with it anyway. “You’re to be getting married soon.”

  He rested his arm on the wall above her. “I’ve not even picked a bride yet. And I won’t. I want you.”

  He’d said that before.

  She lifted her chin. “You’d trade one night of mishaps for a thousand with a woman who loves you?”

  “Mishaps?” he asked with a puzzled expression.

  She immediately regretted using the word.

  He placed a hand underneath her chin. “I assure you, when you and I finally couple, there will be no mishaps.”

  She wanted to believe that, but experience had told her she’d be wrong.

  It would be a mistake and only lead to disappointment.

  “You’ll be happier with a wife,” she whispered.

  His hand began to idly caress her cheek. “Why are you sure matrimony will make me happy? Did it make you happy?”

  She stiffened.

  His hand stopped moving. “I know what the rumors say, but no matter what your husband did, it doesn’t mean that you didn’t love him. Did you love him, Valiant?”

  He’d never used her name before.

  She licked her lips.

  He groaned. His voice was darker. “Don’t do that again.” His eyes were on her lips.

  She came just short of doing it again before she stopped herself. “I did love Noah.”

  “Were you happy?” he asked, returning his eyes to hers.

  She swallowed and then blinked before moving out of his hold and away from him entirely. “That doesn’t matter. I am not here to talk about the earl. I’m here to talk about you.”

  He leaned against the wall with a casualness that annoyed her. Her body was... in need—a strange and horrible sensation—while he seemed unbothered by their kiss. A kiss that had left her with a million questions about herself and her sanity.

  “My feelings last evening will have no bearing on your matchmaking,” he said.