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

by Deborah Wilson

  Valiant lost her breath and immediately thought of Anthony’s eyes.

  They were like the moon, silver and bright. She could gaze at him forever.

  Her throat closed over hurt and anger. Why hadn’t he written?

  Everly spoke in an effort to change the subject. “How is Lord Ambrose?”

  “Well,” the woman quickly said, but she seemed to still be distracted. She proved she was with her next words. “I wonder who wrote that article about the duke.”

  Valiant stood. “Please excuse me.” She turned and walked away from their table. Everly called for her, but she didn’t stop. “I’m going to the gallery,” she said as she quickened her steps.

  She slipped from the tea shop and started toward the gallery.

  There were fewer people walking the halls there. Many paused in their conversations to greet her before returning to them. Valiant knew they spoke of her as well. The scandal she’d brought on her own head had yet to lift and likely wouldn’t unless she married again.

  Not that she’d ever consider doing so.

  She knew, even a year later, there were those who looked on her with pity. Some women were even secretly hostile, as though her existence offended them.

  How had she managed to ruin a marriage to one of the most wonderful lords in London? She wouldn’t be surprised if there were those who blamed her for Noah’s death. If she’d been seeing to her duties, he’d have been at her brother’s house party in the country and not at their London residence with another woman when the building had caught fire.

  Tired of the gossip and the people, she turned around another hall in the gallery and sighed with relief to find no one else there.

  She moved to a painting and began to study it without any true concentration, while telling herself to think of anyone but Noah.

  That was quite easy, because the person who truly occupied her thoughts these days was—

  “Why the long face, Snow?”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 4

  Valiant stiffened.

  Only one person in the world called her by that ridiculous name. She still wasn’t sure if she liked it. It was slightly an insult, after all. He thought her innocent. Naive.

  And perhaps, she was, where he was concerned.

  Slowly, she turned around.

  And there was her huntsman.

  His silver eyes gleamed with pure wickedness and though she didn’t fear for her life, she couldn’t help but fear for her heart.

  But she was angry with him.

  Though she couldn’t recall why at the moment.

  She was lost in his warm expression and the softness in his features.

  Lady Ambrose was right. His eyes were like the moon. So very open and endless.

  She smiled.

  His eyes fell to her mouth and before she could blink, his head was bent.

  His lips brushed hers, rubbing her upper and lower lip in casual strokes before lifting his head again.

  Her smile fell as she tried to slow the beating of her heart. She was also trembling.

  His silver eyes turned a dark gray. “I’ve been wanting to kiss a smile off your face since the moment I first witnessed it.”

  Her heart roared within her chest. She couldn’t speak.

  Yet he seemed to have no difficulty doing so. “I went by to see your brothers. They told me you’d left with Lady Everly. You can’t imagine how long it has taken me to hunt you down. The weather did not aid my pursuit either, though I suppose I’ve become somewhat an expert at finding whom I seek.”

  It took great effort to take everything he said in.

  He’d been looking for her?

  She noticed his clothes did appear to be rather damp. She allowed the last of his words to register. “You found him? You found Lord Denhallow.”

  “Not Denhallow. Mr. Goody.” He gave a weak smile. “It’s not who we wanted but—”

  “This is good.” She touched his arms, and her smile widened. “You’re amazing.”

  He glanced down the empty hall again and then turned back to her.

  She knew what he was after.

  Leaning forward, this time she met his kiss with such enthusiasm it nearly frightened her.

  His hands went to the nape of her hair. Gently, he held her close while he kissed her mind into an endless spiral.

  Then, suddenly, he lifted his hand and his grip on her face tightened. His eyes filled with more than just desire. “It was terribly hard to concentrate on anything but you while I was away. Every moment I was gone, all I could think about was getting back here, touching you, kissing you as I wish.” He kissed her again and then dragged himself from her with a groan. He held her with strength and great care. His eyes were closed as though he were soaking her in.

  Valiant had never had a man want her like this or touch her as he did.

  Noah’s kisses and touches had always held urgency, as though he’d not been able to control his need. It had reminded Valiant of a young boy who’d desperately needed to relieve himself, and that thought had by no means brought her any desire.

  He’d tried to be gentler the second time they’d made an effort at making their marriage a true one, but Valiant had been too nervous. The first time had hurt too much. She’d been unable to stand his disappointment.

  Or the crippling pain.

  So, she’d urged him to go elsewhere after that. She couldn’t understand why any woman would want to engage in such a bloody and painful act.

  But with Anthony, everything felt different. She felt different.

  Her body felt different.

  There was an emptiness inside of her that had never been before.

  An emptiness she knew he could fill.

  His eyes opened, and she watched his expression become studious. Finally, he grinned and asked, “Did you miss me, Snow?”

  The words triggered the memory of why she’d been angry.

  She gripped his wrist and tried to pull his arms away, but he wouldn’t budge. She took a step back nonetheless. The position was not comfortable, but she didn’t care. “You’ve been gone for an entire fortnight. I worried. Why did you not write?”

  “I wrote your brothers,” he said as he moved closer. “I’m sure they reported to you that I was alive.”

  She yanked at his wrists and again, they didn’t move. Not even an inch. “They did tell me about your wellbeing, but I would have enjoyed reading my own letter.”

  He smiled. “I could not write to you.”

  “Why not?” Her fingers rested against his skin.

  His thumb stroked her throat, and he said the very last words she’d ever expected. “Because, it's improper for a man to write a woman he wishes to court.”

  Her breath left her lungs. Then she sucked in all the air she could manage and whispered a harsh, “What?”

  * * *

  When Anthony had come up with his plan to court Lady Valiant, he’d thought of a hundred ways to inform her of his decision.

  He’d already admitted that she’d never been far from his thoughts while away, but what he’d not said was that every moment away from her had made it impossible to ignore the truth.

  He was falling for her.

  He’d more than missed her.

  His chest had felt like an empty vessel while in Stevenage, and he’d known it to be because he’d left his heart in London.

  With Valiant.

  She’d been right to stop his marriage to Beatrix, because what he felt for Valiant was so much better. He was ready to burst with his emotions and clearly failing horribly to rein them in.

  Valiant stared at him as though he’d grown two heads within the last few minutes.

  Surely, the idea didn’t come as that much a shock to her.

  After all, what else had they been doing but a dance around the real issue?

  He needed a wife.

  She needed to find him one.

  It was the perfect solution to both their problems.

/>   And in the end—which was the best part—he’d still get to ravish her.

  Only now, he’d be able to ravish her every night.

  And day.

  And perhaps a few times in the afternoon if she allowed it.

  And he’d make certain that she allowed it.

  Perhaps, she’d even beg for it.

  “No,” she suddenly said with a tiny shake of her head. “We can’t.” Anxiety reflected in her eyes, but what he also noticed was the lack of complete fear, an emotion he’d seen her display before.

  Her color didn’t suffer, and her lips didn’t pale.

  He also noticed the lack of trembling in her body.

  Good. At least she didn’t fear him anymore, but then again, there was something holding her back.

  Or perhaps many things were holding her back.

  Which meant he’d have to take this slow. “Why can’t we marry?” he asked.

  She blinked, and he knew she was searching for a reason that would not expose her fears to him. “You’re courting Miss Milton.”

  “I’m not,” he said. “I told you I ended that before I left London.”

  She narrowed her gaze, not in anger but thought. “We’d never suit.”

  “Oh, on that, I believe you to be very wrong.” He hadn’t meant to allow his desire to show, but it was there in his voice as it lowered an octave.

  “There is more to marriage than sex.” Her eyes flashed, and she looked around the still-empty hall as if to make sure no one heard her.

  He chuckled. “I know there to be more than sex to marriage.”

  Her eyes rounded, and she glanced around again.

  He laughed. “There’s no reason to fear, Snow. Your reputation is in no danger.”

  Her brows crinkled as she turned back to him. “My reputation is already ruined. I’m the woman who couldn’t manage to keep her husband’s affections.”

  Her words left him with cool anger. “You are not to blame for that.”

  She looked down. “You don’t know that.”

  He moved one of his hands to her chin and lifted her head up. When her eyes returned to him, he said, “I do.”

  She tried to jerk her head away, but he wouldn’t allow it. When her gaze returned again, there was anger. “Let me go.”

  He hesitated but a moment before he obeyed and schooled his features to not show just how much the command had pained him.

  Not touching her skin, he felt like a child deprived of his favorite treat.

  His hands dangled purposelessly at his sides.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 5

  Valiant watched Anthony’s face shift into the mask he frequently used with the public and hated it. She also thought it pointless, since, in the short time they’d known each other, she’d grown very good at reading him.

  Beatrix’s words came back to her, about how few people cared for him.

  She never wanted him to feel that she didn’t care.

  Unable to help herself, she grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

  She watched life bleed back into eyes that had been like stone. Yet before he could say anything to return them talk of courtship, she said, “Where is Mr. Goody?”

  “Home, with his parents. I convinced him to return with me.” He shocked her for what seemed like the hundredth time that day when he displayed pain. “You should have seen the way his mother cried over him. While Mr. Goody didn’t seem pleased by the thought of returning home, he was moved by his mother’s tears. Even the servants were unable to hide their emotions.”

  And Valiant suspected neither had he.

  She touched Anthony’s cheek with her free hand.

  He leaned into her touch. His gaze softened.

  She couldn’t help but compare him to a starving man when it came to affection and wondered how that could be with all his many bed partners.

  Yet another reason she could never marry him, for while she’d not loved Noah properly, she was beginning to feel deep emotions for the duke.

  “Lord and Lady Goody have invited me for dinner,” Anthony said. “I want you to join me.”

  Valiant slowly retracted the hand from his cheek but continued to hold his hand. His fingers, however, tightened around hers as though he feared she’d draw away. “Would it not be strange?”

  He narrowed his gaze. “In what way?”

  She lifted a brow. Would he make her say it? “You and Lady Goody. You’ve… bedded her, haven’t you?”

  His eyes widened. “No, I’ve never bedded Lady Goody.” His eyes began to shift to stone again. His body became as rigid as a statue. “I do not bed every lady of my acquaintance.”

  Her cheeks burned, and she looked down. “I’m sorry. I…”

  He reached out toward her chin, but at the last second, retracted his fingers. “You’ve no need to apologize.” His voice was calm. “I’m ashamed to admit that there have been many. You’ll likely run into many of them, but I would like to be clear.” He moved closer and lowered his voice. “None of those women meant anything to me. None of them have touched me as you have, and I’ve not even had you yet.”

  The words both warmed and frightened her. He thought the other women nothing. He’d think the same of her once he’d had her.

  If they wed, Valiant was sure she’d find herself yet again in a failed marriage and it would be entirely her fault.

  “What are you thinking?” he whispered close to her ear. “I’ll be unable to help if I don’t know what’s happening in your head.”

  She lifted her gaze to him. “You won’t be able to help, Anthony.”

  He shifted on his feet and then said, “You believe in me in other ways. Believe in me now. Believe in me with this.”

  It was as though his words took the floor right from underneath her every thought.

  “Valiant?” Everly called from another hall.

  Anthony moved just as Everly came around the corner.

  The woman paused at the sight of them and then smiled as she approached Anthony. “You’ve returned. Was your time away fruitful?”

  “It was,” he said. “I’ve returned with Mr. Goody. He is currently with his family.”

  Everly’s smile widened. “Excellent. We’ll have to celebrate your achievement, of course.” Everly enjoyed hosting parties. She rarely needed a reason to do so, thus Valiant wasn’t surprised at all that her friend wished to do give for Anthony.

  “A marvelous idea.” Anthony glanced at Valiant before returning his attention to Everly. “Your husband thought the same.”

  Valiant paused just as sharply as Everly did.

  “He did?” Everly asked in surprise.

  He nodded once and then took another step back before turning to Valiant. “I shall call on you tomorrow.” He wasn’t asking.

  And she couldn't say no without stroking Everly’s curiosity further. For all her friend knew, Anthony was simply coming to see Valiant about Miss Milton and the search for a suitable wife.

  She smiled. “I look forward to meeting with you.”

  His lips twitched, but he departed without another word.

  Everly stepped closer once he was out of sight. An anxious light lit her green eyes. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Valiant started down the hall, but her footsteps barely registered.

  In fact, everything around her and about her felt strange and unusual. Dreamlike.

  Anthony wished to court her. Valiant hadn’t been courted in years.

  She knew she could not allow it, but that said nothing about how she felt.

  Anxiety and even a little fear filled her, but there was also something else.

  She was slightly charmed. Glad that he would choose her over so many others. With Mr. Goody’s return to London, those who had criticized him all these years were bound to forgive him.

  And he was a duke.

  Eventually, the lords would once again be throwing their daughters i
nto his path.

  He had to know that.

  But perhaps he didn’t. It was yet another reason to avoid any talk about courting before it could truly begin.

  Everly was at her side. “What happened before I found you in the hall?”

  “We spoke of Mr. Goody,” Valiant replied as they came to a portion of the gallery that was filled with others. Suddenly, she felt brighter, and she smiled and said hello to those around her.

  How could a lady not feel reborn with a man such as Anthony on her heels?

  “Something clearly happened.” Everly watched her closely. “You looked ready to either cry or throttle someone when we were having tea. Now you look how I do after I’ve been alone with Asher for some time.”

  The words wiped the smile from Valiant’s lips. “Please. Never speak of my brother in that way to me.”

  Everly laughed and took her arm. “But admit it. Lord Cartelle clearly said something that pleased you.”

  She shook her head. She’d not share Anthony’s words, since there would be no point in the end. They’d never marry. Valiant would never marry again.

  She put that aside for the moment… and then decided to put it aside for the day.

  She was feeling quite happy. There was no reason to dwell on anything that would ruin that.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 6

  “Miss Milton will not do,” Anthony said from his position on the couch the next day.

  Everly, Beatrix, and Brinley had all joined Valiant in the drawing room at her request.

  Just as she’d done the day she’d taken Hero and Beatrix to Anthony’s home, she’d believed having company would cool Anthony’s ambitions for marriage.

  She’d been wrong.

  They’d barely spoken about how he’d found Mr. Goody before Everly asked about his search for a wife.

  Anthony grinned at Beatrix as he said, “She should have fair hair with blue eyes.”

  Beatrix shook her head, but she smiled.

  Valiant’s stomach rolled. How he managed to tease her sister-in-law while speaking about Valiant at the same time she’d never know.

  Anthony looked at Brinley. “She should be a strong woman. Not a child.”