Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval

by Wendy Soliman

  “Thank you, Lord Amos. That is most obliging of you.”

  “Von Hessel is now in custody,” Clarence explained. “He will be released without charge, eventually. We cannot risk dragging Annalise’s good name through the mud by having him stand trial for her abduction.”

  “Thank you for that,” Mama said.

  “He will be held for a while, until we have destroyed his cousin’s reputation and made Brandenburg understand Britain would not look kindly upon von Hessel becoming his heir. Once we are satisfied that will not happen, we will let von Hessel go back to Prussia and face his uncle’s wrath.” Clarence chuckled. “I fancy he would prefer to remain here and try to mend fences with Miss Outwood, but I am equally sure her family will not permit her to give him the time of day once it becomes known he has acted against this country’s interests.”

  “He hasn’t,” Vince pointed out. “Well, not directly.”

  “Oh, I think you can leave it to my friends at the Foreign Office to start enough rumours to make him persona non grata in the best circles.” Clarence executed an elegant shrug. “You know how these things are done.”

  “Not precisely,” Nate said grinning. “But you obviously do, which is all that signifies.”

  Dinner was announced, and Clarence escorted Anna in. She tried to be her usual lively self and join in the conversation as she always would, but her heart wasn’t in it, and she suspected it showed. She was conscious of Clarence sending her frequent concerned glances, but there was no opportunity for him to speak with her alone, which in her present unsettled state of mind, she considered to be just as well.

  He left her at the end of the evening, promising to call the following afternoon. Anna trailed up the stairs, knowing that would be the time when they must settle matters between them once and for all.

  ***

  It snowed heavily again overnight, but that was insufficient to deter Clarence from keeping his engagement to call upon Annalise. Her preoccupation the previous evening had concerned him almost as much as her continued determination not to marry him. He walked through the snow-covered streets to Berkeley Square, rehearsing in his head all the things he planned to say to her, nervous in a way he never was in even the most delicate of diplomatic situations.

  The weather had kept the entire family at home, but Anna made no objection when he suggested a walk in the park. A hint of a smile graced her lips, presumably because she recalled their last venture into that open space and the havoc it had wrought. She returned quickly wearing the same velvet pelisse as previously, and they set off together with Annalise’s hand firmly grasping his arm.

  “Be careful,” he cautioned, just as he had once before. “It is very slippery.”

  “But you will not allow me to fall.”

  He regarded her with absorption. “Never,” he replied softly.

  “Where are we going?” she asked a few minutes later. “This is not the way to the park.”

  “No, it is not.”

  By that point, they had reached Moon Street, and she didn’t protest when they walked into the lobby of his apartment building. Clarence nodded to the porter and led her straight out again through the back door. They were now in the large garden. Annalise blinked as though she was seeing things, and it took her a moment to react to the surprise he had prepared for her. Chimes of her spontaneous laughter echoed around the open space when she eventually did so.

  “Your work?” she asked, pointing to the rather lumpy snowman sitting in solitary splendour in the centre of the lawn.

  “My reckless side that you have awakened,” he said softly. “I apologise if he is not very lifelike, but it is my first attempt at a snow sculpture.”

  “You never made one as a child?” Annalise shook her head. “No, of course you did not. That was a foolish question.” She stared at his creation, and then at Clarence for a prolonged moment, a smile flirting with her lips. “And yet you did this for me?”

  He nodded. “I thought you would approve.”

  “Oh, I do, but the question is, did you enjoy yourself, or did you consider it a waste of time because you were not doing something more worthwhile?”

  “Please don’t insult my snowman’s feelings. He’s a very sensitive chap and considers himself to be very worthwhile.”

  “Certainly he is. I know that, but I was unsure if you did.”

  “Come on, it’s freezing out here, and there is more.”

  “More surprises?” She sent him an inquisitive look. “Goodness, you spoil me.”

  Without responding, he took her hand and led her back inside, up the stairs to his apartment. He used his key to let her in, locking the door carefully behind him, and adding the precaution of shooting the bolt across, even though he did not envisage any uninvited callers on this occasion.

  “Pierce is at the Foreign Office,” he told her in answer to her unasked question. “And I have given Sampson the afternoon off. We are quite alone.”

  “I see.”

  She seemed nervous as she removed her pelisse and handed it to him without looking at him. She wandered into the drawing room, from which all signs of the altercation with von Hessel had been removed, and took a seat beside the fire.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  They were being assiduously polite, yet distant with one another, like strangers meeting for the first time. An unspecified something hovered in the atmosphere, keeping them apart. Clarence was ill qualified to put a name to its interfering presence.

  “I appreciate the snowman, Clarence,” she said at last, “but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “I know.”

  Finally, she looked up at him, her expression reflecting surprise. “You know?”

  “Certainly. I am not a complete numbskull. My duties at the Foreign Office will prevent me from devoting as much time to you and your interests as you would like. As you deserve to expect.”

  Far from seeming relieved, Annalise appeared aggrieved.

  “Then we are agreed we would not suit.” She returned her gaze to the flames dancing up the chimney. “There is no more to be said on the subject.”

  Clarence leaned forward, took one of her hands in his, and caressed her palm with the pad of his thumb. “There is a very great deal to be said. You see, I am no longer in the employ of the Foreign Office.”

  “Don’t joke about such things,” she replied, snatching her hand from his grasp.

  “I am not joking.”

  Her head shot up again. “You’re not?”

  “I had too many responsibilities before I contemplated matrimony. I am now determined to make you my wife, and so something must go.”

  “But you like what you do, and are very good at it.” She blinked, her eyes suspiciously moist. “You would give it up for my sake?”

  “Absolutely. I have grown tired of it all anyway.”

  “But what would you do instead?”

  “I have an estate I have neglected for too long. Your brother and I have plans afoot to recruit constables to keep law in order in the stretch of Hampshire between Southampton and Winchester.” His lips twitched. “I will also have a wife who will lead me a merry dance.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Clarence considered that unusual enough not to make a joke of it. “As for you, Romsey House requires a complete overhaul. It has been shamelessly neglected also. And, of course, you will have duties as my wife to undertake.”

  “I understand all of that.” She shot him an apologetic glance. “You must excuse me. I am in shock. Never, not for one moment, did I expect you to resign your position. I would never have asked it of you.”

  “You are not asking. It is already done. I shall have to be on hand to see the von Hessel business through, but after that, I shall have nothing more to do with diplomacy. Now that I think about it, it was never my chosen career. My father chose it for me, and it never occurred to me
to mind. I had just always assumed it was what I would do, I suppose.”

  “Your father sounds like a tyrant.”

  Clarence flashed a mirthless smile. “A very apt description.” He shook off the melancholy, the feelings of inadequacy that always gripped him when his father’s name was mentioned and sent her another, more genuine, smile. “But I have not yet told you the best part of my plans for us.”

  She widened her remarkable eyes. “There is more?”

  He stood up, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. “Come and look at this.” He led her to his desk where plans for a building had been laid out for her inspection. “This is to be the Lady Annalise Romsey Academy for Orphans.”

  “The what?”

  “You said you wanted to help the disadvantaged.”

  “And so I do, but I did not imagine anything on this scale.”

  “The house is a derelict one on the edge of the Romsey estate. I plan to extend and renovate it. Then we, or rather you, will set up a school for the most deserving orphans from Southampton and Winchester. But not just that.” Clarence felt himself growing more enthusiastic by the moment as a kaleidoscope of other emotions filter across her lovely face. “We will apprentice them to appropriate trades, find positions for them, and…oh, so much more.”

  “Clarence, this will cost a fortune.”

  “I am not paying for it.” He grinned at her. “You are?”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “You are not making any sense.”

  “Your dowry, my sweet. I have no need of it, but I can hardly give it back, so we might as well put it too good use. Now, what do you say?”

  ***

  What indeed? Anna was momentarily too stunned to speak. His generosity, the sacrifices he was prepared to make for her sake said so much more about him than he probably realised.

  “I am overwhelmed,” she said simply, opting for the truth.

  “But you approve of my ideas?”

  He looked so anxious, so keen for her approbation, she burst out laughing and threw herself into his arms.

  “How could I not? You are so thoughtful. I don’t deserve you.”

  His arms closed around her waist, and he held her in a tight embrace. “It is I who is the fortunate one. But, in all fairness, I should warn you the idea of matrimony petrifies me. What if I turn out to be like my father? What if, when we have children, I am as strict with them as he was with me?” He shook his head, looking so lost, so unsure of himself that Anna’s tender heart melted. “I could not bear it. That is why I vowed never to marry, until I met you and you turned my well-organised life on its head.”

  “Shush, that will not happen.” She stroked his hair, treating him as though he was one of the children he anticipated siring. “You are nothing like your father, and if you showed the slightest tendency to be so, I would have something to say on the subject.”

  “Good.” He kissed the end of her nose, almost chastely, but the expression in his eyes as he looked down at her was anything but innocent.

  “For my part, I ought to warn you, I shall not be an easy wife.”

  Clarence rolled his eyes. “There, at least, we are in agreement.”

  “I am so very opinionated, you see, and I never would have made a good diplomat’s wife. That was what concerned me.”

  “I adore your forthright nature.”

  “I hope you still feel that way after we are married,” Anna replied, unable to stop smiling.

  “Then there is nothing left to be said or done. I should like to arrange for the wedding to take place sooner rather than later.”

  “There is one thing left to do,” she said, biting her lower lip to prevent a devilish grin from giving her away.

  “What, my love? What have I overlooked?”

  She dragged him by the hand, back into the hallway and picked up her pelisse.

  “We need to be outside.”

  “We do? Why? It’s freezing out there.”

  “Precisely! We need to be out there for no other reason than the joy of being alive.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  A short time later, they were back in the garden, hurling snowballs at one another. Anna rejoiced at the sound of Clarence’s uninhibited laughter, a rare and precious sound she had never heard before. She managed a brief wave for the astonished porter whom she noticed watching them from a window, probably thinking the world had run completely mad. Clarence sneaked up on her from behind and circled an arm around her waist. She screamed with laughter as they tumbled to the snowy ground together. Then he was kissing her with enough heat and passion to ward off the cold.

  Clarence had not actually admitted to loving her. It was obvious he did not know how to say the words, but he had shown her in so many different ways through his actions that it hardly seemed to matter anymore. Besides, Anna had a lifetime ahead of her in which to teach him how to express his feeling.

  The End

  About the Author

  Wendy Soliman is a British author, brought up on the Isle of Wight, who now divides her time between Andorra and the west coast of Florida. She shares her life with her long-suffering husband and a rescued dog of indeterminate pedigree, named Jake Bentley after the hero in one of her books. Both Jakes are handsome mongrels with independent spirits and wild streaks.

  Wendy has over fifty published books to her credit, ranging from Regency romance, (her first love), to contemporary women’s fiction and marine crime mysteries. She also writes erotica for SirenBookStrand under a pen name.

  When not writing, Wendy enjoys walking miles with her dog, reading other people’s tomes…oh, and she’s on a one woman mission to save the wine trade from the world recession. She figures someone has to do it!

  Check out all of Wendy’s books, and learn more about her from her website: www.wendysoliman.com

  Also available from Bookbaby To Defy a Duke

  The Duke’s Legacy A Duke by Default Saving Grace

  Mrs. Darcy Entertains Series Miss Bingley’s Revenge Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Dilemma Ducal Encounters At the Duke’s Discretion

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  About the Author