A Duke's Dilemma

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Margaret could refuse to answer. She might very well decide that she wouldn’t meet with him. The thought made his insides turn on themselves. He would never know if her refusal was that she felt that there was no need, or that she wanted to meet but felt the danger was too great.

  Grumbling to himself he turned to retrace his steps when the opening of the house’s front door caught his ear. He froze as he stared at his study door. Holding his breath, he waited.

  His study door opened and Stephan stepped inside, smiling.

  Ian’s shoulders slumped with relief, his man had been successful.

  “Thursday, Your Grace, the Hamilton’s ball.”

  “Yes,” Ian exclaimed like a little boy who had scored the winning point. When he saw the knowing smile on Stephan’s face, he forced himself to once again return to the blasé Duke he was thought to be.

  “I must say, Your Grace, you didn’t tell me she was so pretty.”

  Ian frowned. “Why would Lady Duval’s beauty be of any significance to the delivering of a message.”

  Stephan smiled. “Not her Ladyship, Your Grace. Her maid. If I had known, I would have worn my better suit.

  Smiling, Ian shook his head as he sat behind his desk and motioned for Stephan to take a chair. “Tell me everything.”

  Stephan frowned as he sat. “Sir, I am surprised you did not select Susan for your painting. There is something …”

  “Not about your infatuation with a lady’s maid. Tell me how you got the message through without anyone discovering you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Stephan explained how he accomplished his mission, the boy, meeting Susan at the garden gate, everything.

  “And that was all she, Lady Duval, passed along. Thursday, at the Hamilton’s.”

  “Susan asked me to tell you that Lady Duval said she would be wearing a blue ribbon.”

  Ian relaxed as a smile crossed his lips. It was her way of telling him that she was looking forward to meeting. That she didn’t hate him. The smile grew as he remembered the blue ribbon he had draped through her fingers. The ribbon in the painting hidden in his room.

  “Thank you Stephan. I must say, excellent work.”

  Stephan nodded then frowned. “I would be remiss in my duties, Your Grace, if I didn’t mention the danger of meeting a Lady in the garden, alone. More than one man has been trapped that way.”

  Ian scoffed. “I could only be so lucky. No, Lady Duval is betrothed, remember.”

  Stephan continued to frown. “Perhaps making it even more dangerous, Your Grace.”

  Ian waved a hand dismissing his secretary’s concerns. She had agreed to meet him. That was all that was important.

  Seeing that his employer was lost in thought, Stephan stood to leave him alone when he said, “Your Grace, there is one more thing.”

  “Yes,” Ian said bringing his attention back to the man.

  Stephan swallowed hard. “I’ve agreed to meet Miss Parkinson … Susan … in the park, Wednesday. It is her afternoon off, Your Grace. In case you wanted to pass along another message of course.”

  Ian laughed, yes, that was the reason, not the beauty of the maid. And while Stephan might have set up such an arrangement regardless of what the maid looked like. Something in his embarrassed expression told Ian that his secretary was going to enjoy the meeting immensely.

  “No message,” he said, “But it will be an excellent opportunity to learn if there are any last-minute changes. And an opportunity to thank Miss Parkinson. There is a chocolatier’s near that park, I believe. You must take her, on me, of course.”

  Stephan smiled as he shook his head. “There is no need, Sir. If I am so lucky that Miss Parkinson agrees to join me in a chocolate, I will be paying.”

  Ian paused for a moment, then nodded, he understood perfectly. The light in his secretary’s eyes made him feel good inside until he realized he would never experience that same happiness. No, Meg, his one and only chance, was marrying another man.

  .o0o.

  Margaret’s stomach had churned all week with worry. But now, it raged like a winter storm. She was to meet Ian, here, tonight. The thought made her shiver with anticipation and fear.

  So many things could go wrong. She could be prevented from slipping away without being observed. He could still be furious with her. Wanting to tell her how disappointed he was and that he hoped to never see her again. That they would never be friends.

  The shiver of anticipation turned over to a shudder.

  “Are you alright my dear,” her mother asked with a concerned look.

  Margaret nodded with a weak smile. If she talked, her voice would surely give her away.

  The Hamilton’s London home was large, and filled with too many people. Margaret knew she should be paying attention to the decorations. Who was invited and who had been left off the list. She should be listening for gossip or better yet, providing gossip. But her heart wasn’t in it. All she could think about was Ian.

  Was he in the garden waiting for her? The hope inside of her threatened to explode. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm. It was her only hope of making it through the night.

  As the family entered the main ballroom, Margaret immediately located the large French doors that led out to the garden. Could she escape through those very doors? No, she realized as a sadness hit her. Too many people. If they didn’t comment on her going into the garden alone, they would surely follow her travels through the glass. People would comment. Word would get back to her father, or Lord Evens.

  A frustration began to build inside of her. Why couldn’t things be easy? Why must they always become convoluted and troublesome? Her true life was so different than when she was with Ian. With him it seemed everything became smooth and natural.

  A life she would never live, she reminded herself.

  “Here is Evens,” Aunt Vera said as she gave the arriving Viscount a welcoming smile. Margaret’s insides clenched into a tight ball as she put on a brave face and curtseyed.

  “You look nice,” Lord Evens said to her. “Although, I do believe I prefer you in pink.”

  Margaret looked down at her cream gown with the blue belt and almost smiled. If the man only knew how little she cared for his opinion.

  “Of course, My Lord,” she said smiled. “I will endeavor to remember that in the future.”

  “So, Duval …” Lord Evens said to her father as he pulled him away for a conversation. Margaret let out a long breath then turned and examined the doors to the garden. No, that way was still impossible.

  “If you will excuse me,” Margaret said to her mother and her aunt.

  “Really, Margaret,” her mother said with a shake of her head. “You should have gone before we left home.”

  She shrugged, then began to make her way through the crowd and out of the ballroom. Surely, there were other doors, other ways to escape.

  Once in the main hall, she examined the guests and servants. Most of them were focusing on the ballroom. The band was preparing for the first dance. Women were looking at their dance cards or with hopeful glances at their escorts. No one saw her open a door and peek inside.

  A parlor with no exit to the garden. Sighing, she closed the door and continued on. If someone did see her, hopefully they would think she was looking for the facilities.

  It took two more attempts before she discovered what she was looking for. A study with a large glass door to the garden. Designed to let in light, it was perfect. Biting back a squeal of delight, she looked around to make sure no one was watching then slipped in and closed the door behind her.

  There was just enough moonlight leaking into the room to make her way without tripping over furniture. A nervous fear washed through her. If she was discovered in the Duke of Hamilton’s study, half the ton would assume she was there to meet someone. Waiting for a lover.

  Not far from the truth, she thought as she reached the tall door and looked out into the garden. Was he there? What if he didn’
t come? He might very well change his mind. Worried about the danger to his reputation. Or actually that he no longer cared enough.

  Or was he there, still angry? Her heart ached thinking the thought.

  Taking a deep breath, she swallowed before slowly opening the door. The night air was warm with the scent of roses and freshly turned earth. The gardener must have made last-minute changes in preparation for the party.

  A large holly bush screened her from the veranda running along the outside of the ballroom. Sighing with relief she slipped through the door only to pause when she heard someone open the doors to the ballroom.

  Freezing, she was sure they would hear the pounding of her heart. Someone called from inside the ballroom and the doors were closed. Margaret glanced up at the sky and gave a quick thank you before she began to work her way along the house until she could reach the shadows.

  Only as she stepped behind a large oak tree did she glance down and shudder. Cream? What had she been thinking? She would stick out like a lighthouse on the Cornish coast. She should have worn a darker color.

  But then, the blue ribbon wouldn’t have worked as well. She shook her head at her silliness as her heart bubbled inside of her. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that Ian show up.

  Please, she begged as she searched the dark. Her heart raced and her mouth was dryer than the worst desert.

  “Lady Duval?” a voice said from behind her making her jump. Spinning, her heart exploded. Ian, her Ian. No, the Duke of Suffolk she reminded herself. His face was hidden in the shadows, disguising his mood.

  “Your Grace,” she answered as she stared at him, too afraid to learn the truth.

  “Meg,” he whispered before he stepped out of the dark and into her life again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Her heart melted. The man was so handsome, so tall and commanding. Shoulders that went on forever. Immediately, her cheeks flashed with warmth as she remembered their night together. The feel of his skin next to hers. The way he filled her, making the world seem so right.

  She swallowed hard as she studied him. What was he thinking? Even now, it was impossible to tell. Was he still upset with her? Had he come to tell her goodbye forever. A thousand fears flashed through her as he stepped forward and looked down at her.

  His brow furrowed. “Lady Duval?” he asked again, but this time, she could tell he was asking for an explanation.

  “Your Grace?” she answered.

  He laughed slightly. “You first, what is your excuse?”

  She smiled up at him, it was so Ian, no beating about the bush. How could she explain? It all seemed so silly.

  “I never planned on deceiving you, Your Grace.”

  His frown deepened as he took her hand. “Stop calling me Your Grace. It is Ian. It will always be Ian to you.”

  Her insides relaxed. He wasn’t furious at her. Suddenly, all that she had lost became too real. Her heart broke with the realization she would never have what she so dearly wished for.

  “Go on,” he said encouragingly.

  Margaret sighed heavily as she looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t planned. It started out as a whim. A way to escape for a day. I swore Susan to secrecy, borrowed one of her dresses. I just wanted … I don’t know. To be someone else. Does that make any sense?”

  He laughed. “Too much sense, it was the same for me. I was hiding in that village. Putting away my title and all its responsibilities. Just so I could paint unfettered by attention and interruptions.”

  “Until I arrived and interrupted you.” She said as her cheeks grew warm.

  “Inspired me,” he corrected.

  She looked up and saw that he meant it. She hadn’t been a burden. She hadn’t become a regret. Something inside of her shifted as she felt her world become more stable. No matter what happened, he didn’t regret their time together. The realization was so important.

  Smiling, she tilted her head and studied him for a moment. “But why didn’t you tell me? I should be rather cross at you I believe. Misleading a girl.”

  He cringed and had the good grace to look contrite. “Like yourself, I didn’t plan on it. The time, it never seemed right and I feared … I worried that you would look at me differently.”

  “What? A Duke? One step below royalty. Yes, of course I would have thought of you differently.”

  “Exactly,” he said with exasperation. “You would have seen my title, not me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said as she squeezed his hand. “I know too many men with titles that are not impressive.”

  “But how was I to know that? I believed you were a Lady’s maid, remember. I worried that if you knew the truth you would run away and I’d never find you.”

  Her heart relaxed as she forgave him. Of course, he had worried how she would react. What is more, she wouldn’t doubt that he feared a fortune hunter. A woman who would trap him into matrimony just because of that title and the wealth that came with it.

  She looked up into his eyes, then away quickly before he could see the love she felt for him. No, he mustn’t learn the truth. Another deception, but necessary if she was to maintain any sanity.

  A silent awkwardness fell over them. Their hands joined. Two people standing before each other in the dark, hidden in an English garden.

  “Lord Evens?” he asked with a deep scowl. “I must know, where you already betrothed?”

  “No,” she gasped. “Of course not. How could you think I would …”

  He sighed, “I thought not. But had to ask.”

  Pulling her hand from his she turned her back to him. How could he think such a thing? That she was the type of woman who would betray her betrothed. Really, didn’t he know her at all?

  “Meg,” he said as he gently turned her to face him. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. It was … wrong.”

  Her insides relaxed. She could never stay mad at this man. How could she explain? “My father, our family … it is the only solution.”

  He frowned. “So, this not a love match I take it.”

  Margaret snorted before she could stop herself. “Most definitely not. But it is done. The contract has been signed. My father has already spent half the money.”

  Biting the inside of her lip she looked up into his eyes and melted. He seemed so caring. As if her problems were his problems.

  “Oh, Meg,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.

  Yes, she thought as she sank into him. Her head on his broad chest, her arms instinctively wrapping themselves around him, too terrified to ever let go.

  “It is you I love,” she whispered. The words had to be spoken. At least once. He needed to know the truth. She couldn’t hide any longer. Her life might be ruined, but there would be no more secrets between them.

  “And I love you,” he said as he lifted her chin and leaned down to take her lips with his.

  A moan escaped from deep inside of her as her heart filled with happiness. He loved her. No matter what. They could never take that away from her. A man such as this. Ian Temple the Duke of Suffolk loved her.

  Her lips demanded more as her arms pulled him closer. He growled deep in his throat. An animalistic sound of need and want that made her heart soar.

  “God, Ian,” she mumbled through there kiss.

  His hands dropped to cup her bottom as he pulled her against his hardness. Yes, she thought, she wanted this so much.

  “Margaret,” a voice yelled from behind her. “How could you?”

  A cold fear washed through her. No, not now. Not here.

  The cold fear and soul rotting sensation grew as she turned to find her father and Lord Evens staring at them as if they were both traitors.

  “I say, Suffolk,” Lord Evens said as he stepped forward. “That is my betrothed you are fondling.”

  The haughty look in his eyes made Margaret’s stomach drop. The man wasn’t jealous. Not angry at the thought she might care for another. No, he was upset bec
ause something he owned and possessed was being touched by someone else. Nothing more.

  “My apologies,” Ian said as he stepped back away from her. A new sense of loss filled her. Ian’s arms were no longer around her. She had lost him. And perhaps her family's salvation at the same time.

  Lord Evens scowled as he shook his head. “Your apology cannot be accepted, I am afraid. She is ruined. And no longer worth the price I paid.”

  Ian raised an eyebrow. She saw him clench his jaw and his hands turn into fists. A new fear filled her as she saw where this was going.

  “Dawn, on the dueling fields,” Lord Even said. “I is the only way. My honor demands to be upheld.”

  Margaret gasped.

  Lord Evens turned to her, his expression becoming cold, almost evil. “Don’t worry, Lady Duval. We will still be married. I won’t have my name drug through the mud over this.” Her heart squeezed shut as she realized that he would make her pay for this for the rest of her life.

  “No,” he continued. “No one need know. As long as honor can be met. Right, Suffolk?”

  “Dawn it is,” Ian said with his jaw becoming even tighter.

  “Come Margaret,” her father commanded. His scowl looked as if he wanted to beat her with a switch.

  Her mind fought to understand as a thousand thoughts flashed through her. How had this happened? A moment ago, she had been in the arms of the man she loved. And now, he was to face her betrothed in a duel. How? Why? No, this couldn’t be happening.

  “Margaret,” her father growled. “Now.”

  “Go with them,” Ian said as he placed a hand on the small of her back.

  She looked up at him and realized he was trying to save the situation from becoming worse. If they could keep it quiet then reputations wouldn’t be ruined.

  But … but she loved him. He had said that he loved her. No, she realized, that wouldn’t be enough. It would be all they ever had, that one sweet moment. But that slice of time was gone. Gone, to never be repeated.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and joined her father. As they left him, she glanced over her shoulder to find Ian looking both angry and deeply concerned. His eyes tried to tell her to not worry. But how couldn’t she but worry herself half to death. Ian was to face her betrothed over pistols.