Dismissing the Duke

by Jerrica Knight-Catania

  “Impressed by my dancing, are you?” Basildon said as they came together to promenade.

  Esther’s immediate thought was that he was even more pompous than she’d at first imagined, but when she looked up at him, it was clear he was teasing her. It disarmed her in a way she’d not been expecting.

  “Come now, who is that smile for?” he prodded.

  “What has led you to believe it is for anyone at all?” she quipped back. “Perhaps I just like dancing.”

  The earl gave a little snort as they parted ways, but when they came back together, he said, “Forgive my frankness, but I’ve been studying women my whole life. I may not know who you’re thinking about, but I most certainly know you’re thinking about someone.”

  “You are rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged as they turned away from one another, and when they turned back, his eyes bore into hers, like daggers piercing her straight through. He was handsome, she supposed. But clearly a wolf in…well, in wolf’s clothing, actually. Wasn’t that safer than him pretending to be humble and kind? With Basildon, it seemed one knew exactly what they were getting.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” he finally replied.

  Esther opened her mouth to counsel him on the topic of humility, but then clamped it shut again. What did it matter if this man was a pompous ass or a meek little lamb? Her heart belonged to another, and she’d not be dissuaded by a smooth-talking gentleman with a lofty title and a perfect blond coif.

  Blessedly, their dance came to an end and she was saved from having to answer him, which was most certainly for the best. Esther could list a slew of reasons why he should be humble, but saying so would only get her a reputation here in London. Not that she cared what the ton thought of her, but if Great-uncle Danby heard she was not minding her tongue or her manners, surely she’d never hear the end of it.

  “Many thanks, my lord,” she said, dipping into a curtsey. “I must go and find my mother now.”

  He bowed in return, a gleam in his eye that made her want to put a fist squarely in his jaw. “Until we meet again,” he murmured, and then, as quickly as she could, Esther took her leave.

  If she ever had the chance to get the duchess alone again, she’d have to deliver the unfortunate news that she was, perhaps, the worst matchmaker that had ever lived. Maybe it was only luck that had been on her side with the other matches she’d made, for it certainly wasn’t taste or perceptiveness.

  “He was handsome,” Mother said as Esther reached her side.

  “Yes, well, I’m afraid he’s not going to work out.”

  Mother raised her dark brows. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Handsomeness is not always accompanied by politeness. Or intellect. Or—”

  “You’re too picky by half, my child.” Mother waved her peacock blue fan in front of her face. It matched the feathers in her hair to a tee. “Which is why you’re still on the marriage mart at this advanced age.”

  Esther wished people would stop referring to her age as “advanced.” She didn’t feel advanced at all. She felt quite young and healthy, and, God willing, had most of her life ahead of her.

  “I’ll not marry a pompous ass, Mother.”

  Mother gasped, and Esther realized her faux pas. She never cursed. Ever. It was so unlike her, and yet, she’d been thinking what a pompous ass Basildon was for the better part of an hour now, and it simply popped out.

  “I’m sorry for my language, but he is,” she said, trying to save face without completely going back on her word.

  “Enough of this, Esther.” Mother snapped her fan shut with a loud snap and looked her firmly in the eyes. “Danby is sponsoring your season and you’ll not disappoint him by turning your nose up at eligible gentlemen and cursing like a sailor in public. You will, at the very least, try to make an effort. Why, look at your sister…” She pointed across the room with her fan to where Leah stood in a small cluster of gentlemen, giggling and batting her eyelashes like ninny. “It seems as though she is finally rising to the occasion.”

  Blast it all, she was. All of a sudden, she didn’t look like the gangly, green girl she’d always been. She seemed poised and…popular. Good heavens, had Leah grown up without Esther even realizing it? It seemed impossible and yet, there she stood, surrounded by gentlemen who hung on her every word.

  Esther turned away from her sister and focused her attention on Mother once again. Reluctantly, she said, “Very well, Mother. I shall endeavor to…” To what? Hunt for a husband? Pretend she wasn’t in love with someone beneath her station? “Make you and Great-Uncle Danby proud,” she finally said, for it seemed less committal than something more specific.

  “That’s all we ask, my dear.” Mother gave her a smile and a little wink. “Now, go on. Join your sister so she may introduce you to those young men.”

  Well, that sounded almost as fun as having a tooth pulled. But what was she to say? They’d only have the same conversation over again if she resisted. So she squared her shoulders and put on a smile, and did her mother’s bidding.

  Chapter 10

  The last thing Timothy expected was to find Esther standing at his door at four o’clock in the morning. But there she was, still dressed in the clothes she’d been wearing when she left for the ball at Ashbury Manor. She ought to have been exhausted after days of travel and spending half the night dancing—or whatever it was they did at those things—but instead her eyes were round as saucers, and she looked as if she might jump out a window and run to Westminster and back, if given the chance.

  “Esther?” he murmured, his mind in a state of shock. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t mean to sound displeased with her presence, but he couldn’t quite grasp what was happening, and he needed an explanation.

  “I’m sorry,” she began. “I just…I had to see you.”

  He stepped aside to allow her into the room. “Hurry. Before someone sees you.” And then, once the door was firmly shut behind her and his lantern safely on the nightstand, he gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. The explanation could wait.

  She mewled and melted into him, her body as pliant as it could be with stiff stays beneath her gown. What he wouldn’t give to peel off her layers and lay her down in his bed. If he didn’t stop soon, that’s exactly what was going to happen, so he grabbed her upper arms and pushed her slightly away from him.

  Her ruby lips parted in shock and her bosom heaved up and down with every breath. God above, she was beautiful.

  “Why are you not tucked away in your bed, my darling?”

  A small smile broke out on her lips as her expression softened. “Am I truly your darling?” she asked, sounding so vulnerable all of a sudden. It made Timothy want to take her in his arms again and never, ever let her go.

  He gave one short nod. “If you want to be.”

  “Oh, Timothy, I do!” She pressed her delicate hands to his chest. A dangerous move, indeed, for he’d not be able to control himself much longer. Not with her hands on him; not with the memory of their rendezvous in the mews so fresh in his mind. “But I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do. Mother and Father will never approve. And even if they did, Danby would surely put a stop to it.”

  Timothy grabbed her hands, led her to the bed and they both eased down to sit on its edge. “Then what do you propose?”

  Esther took a deep breath, and said, “We could be halfway to Gretna before anyone even noticed.”

  Timothy stared at her—this woman whom he’d thought to be so proper, so staunch in her ways. Had she always been hiding this side of her, or was she truly so in love with him that she’d gone completely mad? To be truthful, he didn’t really care. He loved her. He wanted to marry her just as she clearly wanted to marry him. Whatever had happened that evening, it had rattled her enough to send her to his door talking of eloping at four in the morning.

  His brain struggled to find another, more reasonable solution to their predicament. In truth, there
wasn’t one. Her parents would never approve, like she said. Danby would surely never approve. It wouldn’t be an easy road once the deed was done. She’d be ostracized, an outcome that didn’t frighten him at all, since he’d never been part of society anyway.

  He hated to leave Gabriel in the lurch, though. His sense of duty was what was truly holding him back from jumping at this opportunity. But was he really going to deny himself a lifetime of happiness in exchange for making certain his master’s cravat was properly starched?

  Timothy’s blood raced through his veins, his heart beat loudly in his ears, and before he could think what he was doing, he pulled Esther to him again, kissed her for all she was worth, and then said, “Gather your things, and meet me outside in fifteen minutes.”

  Her brows shot up. “Fifteen minutes?”

  “Any longer, and we’ll encounter the servants.” She nodded, her beautiful brown eyes wide and sparkling in the dim light. “Are you certain you want to do this?” He had to make sure. This was too big a step not to make certain.

  She squeezed his hands. “I’ve never been so certain of anything in my entire life.” Then she leaned in and kissed him before leaping from the bed and running from the room.

  She’d gone mad. Completely and certifiably mad. She almost felt as if she should send herself to Bedlam! But she didn’t really have time to dwell on it. Not if the servants would begin their duties soon. Goodness, that was an early start, wasn’t it? Here she thought she was making herself useful by waking before nine and seeing to her correspondence and piano practice before nuncheon. Did Timothy wake that early? Would she be expected to enter into servitude once she married him?

  Blast it all, perhaps she should have thought of these questions before she suggested they elope to Gretna.

  But did it matter? Was she going to deny herself her one, true love simply so she didn’t have to wake before sunrise? She’d do anything to be with him, and not even Danby could stop her now.

  Thirteen minutes later, after quietly gathering her things in the dark room where her sister enjoyed the easy sleep of a virtuous girl, Esther crept down the servant’s staircase to the basement floor where she emerged into the garden. It was too dark to see anything, so she had no idea if Timothy was even out here yet. She glanced around, trying to make out the shapes in the blackness.

  “Looking for someone?”

  Timothy’s hands snaked around her belly, sending a frisson straight down her spine, and she knew right then that she was doing the right thing. Life would be everything she’d ever dreamed about if she could live it with this man. It was the stuff fairytales were made of. Romeo and Juliet, but hopefully without the poison and daggers and all that.

  She turned in his arms and smiled up at him, even though she couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. “You,” she said. “Always you.”

  He kissed her, awakening all her senses, bringing her body to life, and suddenly it seemed too long to wait to be his wife. Gretna was several days’ drive, at least. But she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather be trapped in a carriage with for days on end.

  He pulled away and ran his hand down the length of her arm until he reached her hand. “Come,” he said, pulling her confidently through the darkness. “We will find a hackney and from there, a mailcoach to take us to Gretna.”

  Esther resisted the impulse to ask why they weren’t taking a carriage. This was how the rest of the world lived. It would take some getting used to, but she’d gladly leave this life behind to be with him. If they were to ride in a crowded mailcoach to Gretna, she’d not complain.

  She followed him to the main road where the lamplighters were just beginning to illuminate the streets, making it easier to find their way. Although, now it would be easier for someone to recognize them, too, so there was that. At least it was quiet at this time of morning. Only a pair of young gentlemen, high on spirits, singing loudly as they stumbled down the street, and a few passing carriages. Though Esther’s nerves were on end, she knew, logically, it was unlikely they’d be spotted by someone they knew. So, they trudged on through the streets, until they reached a main road. A road that was far busier than it ought to have been at this time of morning, but there was nothing for it. Goodness, there was a whole world out there that Esther knew nothing about. Excitement darted through her at the idea of learning all there was to know about being a regular person. Not one of the privileged Upper Ten Thousand. But simply Mrs. Timothy Hargood.

  “Ah, here we are!” Timothy exclaimed as a carriage came straight for them, slowing to a stop for them to climb aboard.

  Timothy gave the man instructions on where to take them, and then helped Esther into the hack. He climbed in behind her, and the conveyance lurched into motion.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her at long last. She hadn’t even realized they’d been sitting there in silence, for the voices in her head were rather noisy. Some of them excited for the adventure ahead, some of them warning her that she was making a big mistake. But all of them reminding her of how much she loved the man who sat across from her.

  She nodded and patted the seat beside her. He obliged by sidling up to her and gathering her in his arms. Esther relaxed against him, the voices in her head quieting now that he was near.

  “Are you tired?” He gently eased her head onto his shoulder and stroked the hair at her temples. She hadn’t given it much thought, but all of a sudden, her eyelids felt rather heavy.

  “I suppose I am,” she said with a yawn.

  “Rest, my darling. It won’t be as comfortable once we board the mailcoach.”

  That was the last thing she heard him say before she drifted off, but it felt as if no time had passed at all when she was lurched awake by the sudden stop of the hackney.

  “What the devil?” Timothy swore as he leaned over to look out the window.

  Esther sat up, alarm fluttering in her breast. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. But it’s too soon to be at the coach yard. Perhaps we… Oh, dear.”

  “What is it?” Esther asked, but she didn’t have to wait for Timothy to answer, for Danby himself appeared at the window, his stern expression far more frightening in the semi-darkness than it was in the daylight. And that was saying a lot.

  The door flung open a moment later, and Danby motioned for Esther to exit the hackney.

  “Your Grace,” she began, but he held up a hand.

  “Hargood, I’ve instructed the driver to return you to the townhouse. Esther, you are to come with me. Immediately.”

  A sob rose to Esther’s throat, but she tried her best to swallow it down. It wouldn’t do to show such a weakness of emotion to the duke. He wouldn’t care, and he’d only think her a frivolous woman prone to hysterics. She had to keep her wits about her. Perhaps then he might see her side and take pity on her. It wasn’t likely, but it was worth a try.

  Her eyes met with Timothy’s in the semi-darkness of the coach. He looked sad, but resigned. Then he nodded, indicating that she should go. And he was right. They’d been caught, and there was no escaping Danby now.

  It took all her strength to rise up off the seat, to turn away from Timothy, the man she thought she’d be married to in a few short days, and accept that they were over. She trembled as Danby took her hand and helped her down from the hack, and she fought the urge to look back as her great-uncle led her away from her one true love.

  Chapter 11

  Timothy’s stomach hadn’t stopped churning since the moment Esther had been ripped away from him in the middle of the night. In the middle of their grand elopement. How pathetic they’d not even made it out of Town before Danby had tracked them down. Did the man have eyes everywhere? That was a silly question. Of course he did. He might as well be omniscient.

  “Everything all right, Hargood?” Gabriel asked, yanking Timothy from his distressing thoughts.

  “Of course, sir. I do apologize.” He cleared his throat, searching for an excuse for his odd behavior and
trembling hands that morning. “Didn’t sleep well,” was what he settled on.

  “I’d think you were coming down with barrel fever the way you’re shaking and all.”

  “I assure you, sir, I’m not prone to excessive drinking. Just tired. That’s all.”

  “Well, I’ll be out most of the day. Once you’ve finished with your duties, I order you to take a nap.”

  That wasn’t likely to happen. Not with all his nerves on edge and his heart longing for a woman he was never, ever going to have, especially now that Danby knew their secret. The duke would probably lock her in the tower of Danby Castle, never to be heard from again. Either that, or Timothy would be reading about her advantageous marriage to some lord or another in the paper soon, which was practically the same as being locked in a tower. Either way, she wouldn’t be free.

  A scratch came at the door and Gabriel called, “Enter!”

  Jeffries, their in-town butler, stood in the doorway. “The Duke of Danby has come calling,” he announced.

  It felt as if someone had delivered a rather forceful blow to Timothy’s gut. What was the Duke of Danby doing here?

  “The duke?” Gabriel said, just as surprised at this news as Timothy was. “What the devil is he doing in Town?”

  “Actually…” Jeffries shifted from one foot to the other. A rare showing of discomfort from the usually unflappable man. “He wishes to see Hargood.”

  Nothing could have prepared Timothy for those words, but he knew immediately that this was it. It was time to say goodbye to Gabriel, to the entire Whitton family. It was a painful realization. He’d loved working for them—being a part of their family in some small way. And what did that mean for his future?

  He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that right now, not with the duke awaiting him downstairs.

  “Well, Hargood, you mustn’t keep my great-uncle waiting,” Gabriel said, his tone jovial in his ignorance of the situation.