Winning The Heart 0f The Mischievous Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Ella Edon

  He took a stool from behind her and sat beside her. He offered her a smile. "It is, but I want to read to the children."

  "I can do that."

  "As I can, so why don't we read to them together?"

  Esther stared at the book, as she knew she would lose any argument they were to have. He moved close to her, lay his hands on his thighs, and looked into the book. Esther cleared her throat. "Are you ready, Your Grace?"

  "Certainly, Lady Esther."

  Together, they read to the children.

  "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?" they began. Esther swallowed hard, slowing down and letting the Duke take the lead.

  "Thou art more lovely and more temperate:"

  "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date..."

  She joined him then, her small voice blending finely with his deep one. Her heart beat faster each time he read the words from the book. His deep voice made her feel warm, as though she could wrap herself in it and never escape.

  "Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines," he carried along, but glanced at her briefly with a raised brow. She shook her head and stared down at the book. For the rest of the reading, while basking in the loveliness of his voice, she kept her eyes solely on the tome.

  Lady Kinross came in minutes later. "It's time for your afternoon meal." She clapped her hands and gestured for the children to rise and leave the room.

  They did as she asked, but while they did, they grumbled all the way. "No, we want another poem."

  "One more..."

  "Read to me at night, Lady Esther."

  As they filed out of the room, she smiled at them. They waved, some bowed or curtsied, and some kept pleading for another poem. Esther maintained her smile. "Goodbye, Lady Esther."

  "Goodbye, my lovelies."

  "Thank you, Lady Esther. Your Grace." Lady Kinross smiled. With one last nod, she headed out.

  "The children love you." The Duke rose from where he was seated and walked over to lean against the window. "Your emotions are theirs. You seem happier today, and so they are. When you had been in tears days ago, they were affected as well. Such power."

  Esther ignored his words and rose with the book.

  "Are you heading home now?"

  "I'm not quite sure," she replied. "I thought I'd see the river on my way. I may take a while there before finally heading home, Your Grace."

  It was a little lie. She was heading home, and she was in a hurry, but Esther didn't want Stefan saying he would take her home instead. But saying she was headed to the river seemed like a suggestive idea.

  Stefan creased his brows. After much thought, he pushed himself away from the window. He wore a heart-winning smile and sauntered towards her. Esther held her breath as he stood close.

  "Stefan," he said in a throaty whisper.

  "What?" she asked, not understanding.

  He kept his smile on as he swept her hair from behind her ears, letting it tumble down her shoulders and the sides of her face. "My name is Stefan. I figured, My Lady, that if we are to make this look as real as possible, then we must play the part. Stefan is what everyone close to me calls me. And if I'm to court you, I suppose you'd do the same."

  "I have not agreed to let you court me." Esther moved back, away from his touch because it made her feel small, funny, uncomfortable.

  "Is that so? And pray tell, why?"

  "Because I will do no such thing as to lie about courtship. Tis not right."

  "You didn't think this through, did you?"

  "I did. And I'm afraid this..." She gazed at the floor. "Is my reply, Your Grace —"

  "Stefan."

  "I can't call you that. Goodbye, Your Grace. I have to head home.” She needed to flee his presence as she felt as though she were suffocating, having him so close made it seem difficult to breathe.

  "I do hope you have an umbrella as a heavy downpour is before us."

  "If that is the case, then I must head home right away," she gasped. Pulling the door open, she walked out. She ran down the stairs and headed outside immediately. On walking over the threshold, the sky rumbled. She gazed up. The sky was dimmer, but the rain was yet to fall. Sighing in relief, she stepped further out. Staring around, she sighted her horse, tied to a tree at the right side of the building. She ran there hastily, untied her horse, and climbed upon its back. With one huff, the horse headed out. She needed to be at home, for she had invited Anne and Katherine for afternoon tea. It would be wrong to stand them up.

  "Lady Esther!" she heard a voice from behind. But her horse had run a long mile from the orphanage. She was out, headed towards the market. The Kendal Manor was situated at the center of Somerset.

  She was still a little mile away from the market when large drops of rain descended from the heavens. Her hair went damp in a snap, her dress was soaked in a second, and her vision was affected by water continually dropping around her eyes.

  She gasped heavily but her horse neighed but kept running.

  "Lady Esther!" her name came again, closer this time.

  She didn't want to turn to look for him, for she knew that the moment she lost her attention, the horse would lose itself.

  But as it ran along, she realized that the horse led her rather than the other way around. The rain was rapidly drenching her. She pulled at the reins of the horse, sending it to a halt. The horse neighed and stopped abruptly. Esther alighted the horse, still gripping its reins and pulling it behind her as she tried to look around despite the rain.

  "Lady Esther!"

  She saw him then, approaching from the falling water, emerging, riding towards her. The Duke sat on a dark horse, drenched by the rain. He alighted the horse hastily when he was near.

  "It's a heavy downpour!" he shouted over the pattering noise. "You'll catch a cold! Come with me."

  Esther shook her head, the rain hammered on her and she knew she was going to fall ill from staying under the rain for too long.

  "There's a shed not far from here, come!"

  With both of them gripping their horses’ reins, they walked under the heavy rain to a shed nearby. It looked like an abandoned house, with a fallen roof, but still enough to protect them from the rain. The Duke urged Esther to head inside while he kept the horses well-tended beside the house, where the roof was able to protect them from the torrential downpour.

  Esther walked inside, her clothes dripping wet. She shivered and took a seat on a dusty stool. The Duke entered not long after, all wet as well. He cursed, hurrying to prepare a fire to warm her, and headed towards an opening on the far end of the room. He bent over it and began to toss something around. Esther looked away, her eyes settling on the rain outside.

  "You should come over here. The hearth will keep you warm."

  Esther snapped her gaze to where he stood, in the opening, where there was now a small flame. The house was in such disrepair, that she hadn't been able to tell it was a hearth. She stood up, took her stool with her, and headed over there. She sat down beside the Duke who took to sitting on a partly burnt quilt. The fire did help a little, but her dress was far to drenched.

  "I told you the rain was upon us, yet you went out in such a hurry." The Duke shook his head. "You never listen."

  Esther looked down, she rubbed her hands against each other and kept her gaze there.

  "You never look people in the eye," he muttered.

  Esther once again said nothing.

  "Am I to speak while you listen? I propose we talk while we spend the time waiting for the rain to subside."

  Blinking, she wondered how she'd ended up here, alone with the Duke of York, who had quite a salacious reputation. The moment the rain stopped, she would flee because if she were seen alone, in an abandoned house with the Duke, then she would surely be ruined.

  She traced the tip of her fingernail on her palm, praying that the rain would stop. Staying close to him made her uncomfortable.

  "Do you believe in s
oothsaying?" he asked.

  She snapped her gaze to him. "What?"

  "Soothsaying. When one predicts your future."

  She frowned. "I have never dwelled on such before."

  The Duke cocked his head to the side, and then he nodded at her hand. "Come, lay your palm before me, so I may tell you your fate."

  Esther creased her brows and simply stared at him. He flashed her a smile and nodded. "Come on."

  Deciding to indulge him, she offered her hand to him. A brisk wind blew past her as his fingertip traced her palm, the lines on them. She felt a chill when his fingers grazed her skin. She swallowed hard as he kept on. Her heart hammered when he stopped and looked up at her with creased brows. "I see something."

  "What do you see?"

  "You." As their eyes locked, he traced her palm once again. "I see you happy."

  Esther's heart settled. And slowly, she smiled. He let go of her hand, and she felt cold once again.

  Sitting up, he cleared his throat. "What do you think of my proposal?"

  "It's outrageous, Your Grace." She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "No one would ever believe that I...would let myself be a victim of your womanizing ways."

  She watched as a smirk graced his lips. "You think too highly of what people say. You live for people, you have no stand of your own, no will. You simply do as others please. How then do you intend to be happy?"

  She was genuinely hurt by his words. Angered even. Pressing her lips in a thin line, her response was silence. But he was not having it. "Is there anything that you have wanted for yourself and that you have taken for yourself? Without having to look back and wonder what everyone says, Esther? Is there anything?"

  Esther bit her lip and looked away. He was mocking her. "Lord Milway didn't just call off the engagement. There must have been a reason. Do you sometimes wonder what that was? Wonder why he left you? Perhaps because you would never take your stand, do you not think so?"

  Her eyes welled up. Now he was calling her weak. No one had ever been able to drive her to such anger. He annoyed her. And she was never one to raise her voice to anyone, for any reason, so she simply looked at her hands and fumed. She wasn't going to let him rile her up. She wasn't going to snap at him. She was simply going to ignore him.

  "Do you want Lord Milway back?"

  Esther swallowed hard and kept looking down.

  "If you want him back, then accept my proposal, and I promise that you will get him back."

  She looked up then, still angered by his words. "What gain do you have in all of this? Why are you so insistent on this?" Her voice shook as she spoke. She swiped her hands across her eyes to wipe her tears. “Since I was a babe, I have lived in accordance with what I want. What I know is right, not according to anyone else, Your Grace."

  "No, you have lived according to what is expected of you. Not what you want. There is a difference."

  "You don't know me!" she snapped. "You know nothing about who I am. You know not what I think!"

  "No, Esther, you are very predictable." He snorted. He turned his face away from her, looking deep into the fire. "Everything you have done since we met is exactly what I knew you would do."

  She balled her fists. Her anger bubbling, boiling over like hot water. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. When she felt that she was stable enough to speak, she did.

  "You want to court me? Do you not?" she demanded.

  She watched him crease his brows. "No, I want to help you win back Lord Milway."

  "Since...since…" Her voice seemed small even to her, and she paused a bit to harden it. "You’re so interested in helping me get Lord Milway back, you'd be pleased to know that I would consider it and give you a response a fortnight from now."

  The look on his face was priceless, and when she spoke again, his confusion turned sour. "While you await my response, you will act like a gentleman who wants to court me. Do away with all of your mistresses and keep yourself above reproach till then, and you will get my response."

  The Duke sat up, shaking his head. "Now, what are you on about? I simply want to help you, so you have no right to make such ludicrous demands of me. I find it most absurd."

  "Absurd, you say?" She clasped her hands together to keep her resolve firm. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her; she had never spoken to anyone in such a manner. Her heartbeat was frantic, and her hands were shaking. But the Duke had infuriated her, and perhaps it wouldn't hurt that she gave him a dose of his own poison. If he really wanted to help her, then he would do as she said.

  When he was silent for a moment, simply watching her, she cleared her throat and spoke on. She wanted to prove him wrong. She was not weak. She did not live for anybody but herself. "Didn't you say that you could predict me? Then surely you saw this coming, did you not?"

  He relaxed, his shoulders eased, and he simply stared at her. "No, I actually did not. I'm impressed. "

  "Do you agree to my terms?"

  "Seven days, not a fortnight."

  "A fortnight or nothing." There was no way she was backing down. "Do...do you agree?"

  "No."

  "Then the proposal is off." She exhaled roughly and swallowed hard. Forcing herself to sound so hard was difficult for her as she was quite unused to it.

  "Esther..."

  She puffed a breath, gripped her arms, and stared into his eyes. "A fortnight or nothing, Your Grace."

  "Alright then, a fortnight."

  Esther looked down and grinned triumphantly, but her grin faltered when she saw the devious smirk on the Duke's face as she stole a glance at him.

  Chapter Eight

  Black moved a bit further, but Stefan gripped the reins firmly. William was seated on the beast, and his eyes darted around, watching the earth as though he may fall off. The day was bright, the sun was out and the cool breeze that graced the air along with the sun, made it an enjoyable time to ride in the field. The stable boy had just run off to have his meal, Alfred stood by watching carefully, and Stefan sat behind William on the horse, keeping the beast at the spot.

  "Don't look down, William, stare straight ahead," Stefan spoke, his hands were securely around William, to protect him from being unbalanced. "Look ahead."

  William reluctantly lifted his gaze. His brown hair blew with the wind, and the mischievous smile he wore was a sign that he was enjoying sitting on Stefan's beast.

  "Black is so huge Stefan. I may never be able to control him," William said sadly after a while.

  Stefan smiled down at the boy. "You will, lad."

  Alfred stood a little away from them, his handlebar mustache moving as well as his lips in fright. He gripped his chest and stepped back a little. "Your Grace, Black is so huge. Mayhap the lad should use a pony. "

  "No, its high time William began knowing how to wield horses, stallions..."

  "He will, in time."

  "The time is now," Stefan stated firmly. Black neighed and moved slightly.

  Since Stefan had cut down his extracurricular activities, he had taken it upon himself to train William into becoming a proper gentleman. He had, over the past few days, realized that he had not been a good older brother to William as he should have been. And knowing that he may never find the right woman to be duchess, he needed to teach William certain things as next in line.

  "Ha!" William screamed in glee as Stefan raised the reins and pulled them back, so Black reared up his hind legs. They were in an open field behind Sands Castle, the land was green and clear, a large mass of land running down to the border between York and the neighboring town. With the surrounding land empty and still undeveloped, Stefan thought it to be a good place to train William.

  "Hold still," he told his brother.

  As Stefan moved his right hand, the horse headed right. The rein strained, but his grip became tighter. "Do you see this, Will?"

  The boy nodded. Stefan rode on and after a few rounds and a few more instructions regarding handling skills, he decided to halt. "W
hen you want the horse to stop, you don’t just pull on the reins. You sit back. The reins are for guidance."

  He demonstrated his words, and Black came to an instant halt.

  "Tis just like handling a pony. Not so hard, ey?" William grinned.

  Stefan smiled proudly. "Not so hard, William, but you must be careful. A stallion is bigger, stronger, and far more obstinate."

  As they both alighted, Stefan held firmly on to the horse's reins until William was well away from it.