Cinderella and the Duke

by Janice Preston

‘Capper?’

  ‘Cheriton’s secretary... Former secretary, I should say, as he is clearly no longer employed by my illustrious cousin.’

  The sarcastic note in his voice as he spoke of Leo stirred a warning deep within Rosalind—within just a few short minutes she had again been in danger of forgetting this man’s true nature. How had his superficial charm so readily overridden her former caution?

  ‘I am afraid I have no idea,’ she said, as repressively as she could.

  ‘Nor I. One can only hope Cheriton did not dismiss Capper merely to provide an opening for your brother. You will miss him, I make no doubt. I trust you will not be too lonely. I know my cousin and he will expect his secretary to be at his beck and call at all times. Has he moved to Beauchamp House yet?’

  ‘He left earlier, before we came shopping,’ Nell said. ‘And Rosalind will not be lonely. She still has me, sir.’

  ‘But you no doubt hope to wed, Lady Helena. Who, then, will keep your sister company?’

  ‘I still have Susie,’ Rosalind said.

  ‘Ah, Susie. Poor, unwanted child. I had forgotten all about her. You have brought her with you to town, Miss Allen?’

  ‘I have. And she is not unwanted. She has me. The circumstances of her birth are hardly her fault.’

  ‘Indeed not and I am delighted to hear such sentiments fall from your lips. She is a fortunate child.’

  Nell had once more stopped to examine the contents of a shop window and Rosalind and Lascelles paused, waiting for her to catch them up.

  ‘I do hope my cousin approves of your plan.’

  ‘Susie is no longer the Duke’s concern,’ Rosalind said.

  Lascelles leaned towards Rosalind, bending so his lips were close to her ear, the smell of bay rum filling her nostrils. ‘Do I detect a touch of resentment when you speak of my cousin?’

  A shiver of warning tracked across her skin.

  ‘Resentment? Why should I resent your cousin, sir?’

  ‘Why, he has enticed your brother away, has he not? That cannot be an insignificant occurrence.’

  ‘Insignificant, no, but I dare say I shall become accustomed to it. There is no need for resentment.’

  The lie slid readily from her tongue, but his words revived her angst over Freddie leaving and, at Lascelles’s knowing smile, Rosalind knew she had failed to conceal her distress. She marvelled at the man’s ability to manipulate others’ feelings.

  He inclined his head. ‘My mistake, ma’am.’

  Nell joined them at that moment and Lascelles continued, ‘I fear I have monopolised you enough, dear ladies—I know from experience that shopping is one activity at which the male of the species is distinctly de trop.’ In one smooth movement, he captured Rosalind’s hand and she braced herself against the impulse to snatch it away. ‘Might I beg your leave to call upon you tomorrow, Miss Allen?’

  His eyes were hard, even though his lips curved in a smile, reminding Rosalind of the danger of antagonising him. But she could not bring herself to give him encouragement.

  ‘I am sorry, but I must decline, sir.’ Rosalind tugged experimentally at her hand, but Lascelles did not relinquish his hold. ‘My sole reason for being in town is to chaperon my sister, not to pursue my own social agenda.’

  He bowed over her hand, then released it.

  ‘But you shall not deny me, Mrs P—I mean, Miss Allen.’ Those few softly spoken words sent apprehension rippling through her. ‘I bid you both good afternoon.’

  He walked away, disappearing around a nearby corner into a side street. Rosalind’s shoulders sagged as the breath left her lungs.

  ‘Well, I am pleased he has gone,’ Nell said. A frown creased her brow. ‘I am sorry, Ros, and I cannot say why, for he seemed polite, but there is something about that man that makes me feel...uncomfortable.’

  The habit of protecting her sister was so ingrained, Rosalind shrugged off Lascelles’s threat.

  ‘Oh, he means no harm, Nell, but if he does make you uncomfortable we shall try to avoid him in the future.’

  Chapter Twenty

  After Lascelles left them, Rosalind and Nell returned to South Audley Street. The delights of shopping could no longer distract her—Rosalind’s head was bursting with the accusations she longed to throw at Leo. As soon as they were home, Rosalind sent for Penny to accompany her to Beauchamp House.

  ‘I wish you would not go, Ros,’ Nell whispered as they waited for Penny. ‘I recognise that expression. You will only say something you will later regret. Besides, you promised we would go to the park.’

  ‘I shall be back in time to go to the park. I merely wish to speak to the Duke about—’

  ‘About Freddie. Yes, I know. But Freddie is excited and happy, Ros. If you upset the Duke, he might change his mind and Freddie would never forgive you.’

  ‘I shall be on my best behaviour, I promise.’

  * * *

  It was a short walk to Grosvenor Square, situated at the opposite end of South Audley Street from Lady Glenlochrie’s town house.

  ‘Good afternoon. My name is Miss Allen. I should like to speak to the Duke, if you please.’

  The superior butler from the previous evening puffed out his chest as he peered down his nose at Rosalind. ‘His Grace did warn me you may call, Miss Allen.’

  His tone left Rosalind in no doubt as to his disapproval and she felt Penny, standing close behind her, bristle. Really, the effrontery of the man! Although, of course, he could no doubt sniff out a commoner at a hundred paces. The thought amused her, banishing her irritation.

  ‘Please inform him I am here.’

  The butler stood aside and allowed Rosalind and Penny—who sniffed audibly as she passed—to enter. He crossed the hall with a measured tread and disappeared through a door to their left.

  ‘A body might think he was the Duke,’ Penny hissed.

  ‘Shh. Someone might hear.’

  But there was no one around to hear. The great house was still and silent: an oasis of calm in contrast to the busy square outside. Without volition Rosalind’s hand rose to tuck and tidy any stray wisps of hair into her bonnet then, recalling the reason for her visit, she stopped. She would not primp and preen in deference to a man who had stolen her brother, even if he were a duke.

  The butler reappeared.

  ‘His Grace will see you in his study.’

  As Rosalind and Penny began to follow the butler, he halted. ‘His Grace asked that your maid wait here. He said you will not be here for long.’

  Rosalind stiffened, but then a bubble of reluctant laughter formed in her chest. Leo was a step ahead of her and not for the first time. She had silently rehearsed her verbal attack during the short walk to Beauchamp House but now, if she followed her plan to ring a peal over his head and then walk straight out, she would merely prove him right. Or she could prove him wrong by lingering—and that, no doubt, was his intention.

  As she approached Leo’s study, she wished she had heeded Nell’s plea not to come here whilst her temper was still frayed. Scolding him would doubtless only serve to amuse him, but he had still stolen her brother from her without a word of warning. She would treat him with cool civility at the same time as leaving him in no doubt as to what she thought of his underhandedness.

  The butler announced her and she entered a surprisingly light and airy study. She had expected a dark and masculine room, with heavy furniture, stacks of papers and an oppressive air. Instead, the walls were papered in pleasing light green and fawn stripes above light oak wainscoting. Sunlight streamed through the two tall windows.

  Leo rose from his chair behind his mahogany desk, every inch the nobleman, self-assured in his domain as he came to greet her. Rosalind’s heart, annoyingly, skipped a beat whilst nerves coiled in the pit of her stomach. Much as
she wanted to discount his status and still treat him as Mr Boyton, she could not entirely dismiss his status and she found herself intimidated and attracted in equal measures.

  ‘Miss Allen. Good afternoon. Please, take a seat—’ he manoeuvred a chair into place so it faced his across the desk ‘—and tell me how I may be of assistance.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Your Grace.’ She sat. ‘I wish to discuss my brother. I understand you are now his employer?’

  ‘Ah.’

  Leo returned to his own chair in a leisurely fashion. She gritted her teeth. How very provoking! She folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to speak.

  ‘Not quite,’ he said, eventually, once he had settled.

  Her eyes flew to his. ‘Not quite? I do not understand.’

  He tipped his head to the side and gave her a benign smile that set her teeth on edge. ‘Have you forgotten your question already? You said you understand I am now your brother’s employer, and I replied, “Not quite”.’

  ‘So—’ her brows squeezed into a frown ‘—Freddie is not to be your secretary after all?’

  ‘I did not say that.’

  ‘You are speaking in riddles, sir.’

  ‘Your Grace,’ he said softly. ‘I am a duke. Had you forgotten that as well, Rosalind?’

  ‘Your Grace.’ She forced it out through her still-clenched teeth. ‘And my name is Miss Allen.’

  His lips compressed—he was trying not to laugh, the wretch.

  ‘Is Freddie, or is he not, employed by you as your secretary?’

  ‘Today, the answer is no. Tomorrow, it will be yes. He is settling into his quarters today and he will start tomorrow.’

  ‘Why?’ The question burst from her lips.

  One dark brow rose. ‘Why? Well, you must ask your brother why, but I presume he wishes to familiarise himself with the house and its occupants before he begins his duties.’

  He scraped his chair back and stood up. He rounded the desk: tall, dark and imposing, radiating confidence and natural authority. He had always been thus, she realised. It had been his uncompromising attitude when he had given Lascelles short shrift that had first attracted her. And now, to discover he was a duke...the highest rank of peerage in the land...utter confusion boiled inside her.

  Leo perched one hip on the desk, so near to Rosalind that his boot brushed her skirts as he swung it to and fro. She swallowed, her gaze riveted to his breeches-clad thigh. His cologne and, beneath that, his own unique scent pervaded her senses. Her breath grew short. He was so...so...

  He was Leo. The man she had given herself to because she had fallen in love with him. Her heart twitched as the past...their past...invaded her mind. In her memory, Leo rose above her, silvery eyes dark with passion. Her skin tingled with the memory of his tender touch and her fingers tangled again amongst the coarse dark hair that covered his chest. Her lips throbbed with the remembered onslaught of those sensual lips. She felt again the safe and solid weight of his body...of Leo...as he loved her.

  Her throat thickened and she tore her gaze from him. She plaited her fingers together in her lap to prevent the fidgets and concentrated on steadying her breathing.

  ‘I wish to understand,’ she said, ‘why you did not deem it necessary to inform me of your intention to offer Freddie a job?’

  Leo folded his arms across his chest, his gaze unwavering. Silence reigned.

  ‘Well?’

  Leo quirked a brow. ‘Why I did not deem it necessary to inform you of my intention to offer your twenty-five-year-old brother a job? Hmm.’

  ‘You know what I mean!’ Rosalind leapt from her chair and stalked across the room to stand by a window. ‘We were speaking only minutes earlier, but you did not breathe a word of it.’

  ‘Frederick is not a boy. He is a grown man. I do not have to explain, but I shall as you appear unable, or unwilling, to understand. The reason I did not tell you...the reason I told no one before I made Frederick that offer is because it is no one’s business but his, and—to be honest—I wished to see his reaction without any outside influence. He does not need his sister’s permission to receive an offer of employment. I thought you would be pleased that he is so happy.’

  Rosalind moved to stand at the opposite end of the desk from where Leo still perched. She pondered his words. Is that what angered her: the fact he had taken away any chance of persuading Freddie to refuse? If Leo had forewarned her, would she have tried to convince him not to make the offer and, if she failed, would she then have interfered and encouraged Freddie to refuse? Was she really that overbearing?

  ‘It is only because I care about him,’ she said.

  * * *

  Leo’s heart went out to Rosalind, she looked so forlorn. He slid from the desk and in two strides he was by her side, her hands in his as he ran his thumbs across her knuckles.

  ‘I know, sweetheart.’ Her sweet jasmine scent enveloped him, making his blood sing and his head spin with memories. He had expected her to rip up at him and so she had begun. But her readiness to listen and to try to understand only increased his love for her. ‘You will see this is for the best. Frederick needs a purpose and he needs some independence.’

  ‘Independence from me.’

  ‘Yes. It would be wrong of me to pretend otherwise.’

  She hung her head. Leo popped a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face to his.

  ‘There is no need for shame. You have always cared for Frederick and he knows that. Your only failure is to discount the passing of the years and the effect of that upon your brother. He is a man and is ready to make his own way in the world.’

  She met his gaze, her beautiful golden-brown eyes shiny with unshed tears. One trembled on her lower lashes and Leo dipped his head, catching the salty drop on his tongue. Her gasp, innately feminine, set his pulse thundering and, helpless to resist her, he enfolded her in his arms and placed his lips on hers, kissing her, moulding her warm curves to him as his hands roamed her back and bottom. She fitted perfectly against him. She belonged in his arms. She was here, in his house, and he felt at peace. All too soon, though, the clamour of his body for more rang a cautious bell and, reluctantly, he caressed her lips one more time before ending their kiss. She gazed up at him, bonnet askew, moist lips parted, eyes dark with passion, and he fought to cling to his control. He untied her bonnet and flipped it on to his desk, then took her hand.

  ‘You know...’ He led her, unresisting, to his chair, sat down and tugged her on to his lap. She squirmed a little, then snuggled against him as Olivia used to when she was a child needing comfort. He put his arms around her, resting his cheek on her hair. ‘If you would only accept me, this upset about Frederick would be immaterial. He would still be a part of your daily life.’

  Her breath hitched. ‘Is that why you have given him a job? To persuade me to accept?’

  ‘No. I offered him the job because I have need of a secretary, I like your brother and he impressed me with his knowledge of Parliamentary affairs, despite never having been to London in his life.’

  ‘What happened to your former secretary?’

  ‘We agreed to part company.’

  She leaned back against his arm and searched his face. ‘Your brother told me there was trouble between him and your son Alexander.’

  ‘There was, but it is all resolved now. You have not met Alex, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I tasked him with showing Frederick around the house earlier,’ Leo said. ‘I assume you would like to see your brother before you leave? They should be finished now. Shall we go and meet them?’

  He clasped her waist and lifted her from his lap, then took her hand as they walked to the door. Leo gestured to Penny to remain seated and led Rosalind through to the staircase hall. They were halfway to the foot of the stairs—and in full
view of Freddie and Alex, as they descended—before Rosalind realised what he was doing. She snatched her hand from his with an impatient click of her tongue, and Leo bit back his grin.

  There was more than one way to help Rosalind reach her decision and where better to begin than raising expectations within their own families? Sitting passively and waiting for a decision—from anyone—was not his way.

  In an unexpected bonus, Cecily and Olivia followed Alex and Freddie down the stairs. If Olivia suspected an attachment between Leo and Rosalind, she would tell Helena and Rosalind would very soon find herself affianced to Leo, whether or not she had actually said yes.

  ‘You did that deliberately,’ Rosalind hissed.

  Leo spread his hands as he shrugged. ‘How could I possibly have known half my household would be coming down the stairs at that precise moment, sweetheart?’

  She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Do not call me sweetheart.’

  ‘But I like to call you sweetheart. Come, allow me to introduce you to Alex.’

  He ushered her towards Freddie and Alex, who reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time as Cecily and Olivia.

  ‘I see you have all met Mr Allen,’ he said. ‘Alex, this is Mr Allen’s sister, Miss Rosalind Allen. Rosalind, please meet my younger son, Alexander.’

  Cecily caught his eye, her own eyes wide and questioning, and Olivia smiled knowingly, but Rosalind herself appeared oblivious to his casual use of her Christian name.

  ‘I am delighted to meet you, Lord Alexander,’ she said.

  Alex bowed. ‘Likewise, I’m sure. I’m givin’ your brother the guided tour.’ He winked at Freddie. ‘Saved the best till last—the kitchen and so forth. You won’t need to go there much, but at least you’ll know where the larder and the wine cellar are, for midnight raids.’

  Leo watched, bemused, as his normally taciturn son grinned, and nudged Freddie, who laughed.

  ‘I suspect I might not last long in your father’s employ if I indulge in schoolboy pranks,’ Freddie said, ‘but I should like to see them, nevertheless. And meet the rest of the staff. You go on ahead, Alex, and I shall join you in a minute. I’d like a private word with your father first, if I may, Your Grace?’