The Temptation of the Duke (Regency Romance)

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The Temptation of the Duke (Regency Romance) Page 2

by Jerrica Knight-Catania


  He wasn’t exactly sure why, though, when it came right down to it. She had never beat him or humiliated him or thrown him in a dungeon for days on end. It was just…her. Her entire demeanor said she could do those things if she felt so inclined, so most everyone held their tongues in her presence, wait out the proverbial storm, and pray she wouldn’t speak ill of them in the aftermath, which she almost always did anyway.

  “Sit down.” Evan did as he was told. She waited a moment, obviously in an attempt to drive him mad, and then said, “Lord Hedley wants you to set a date. Immediately.”

  The fact she said these words with so little emotion as she dropped a cube of sugar into her tea sent a cold chill up Evan’s spine. How could she be so nonchalant about this? It was his wedding day, not an evening at Vauxhall, for God’s sake. A day he’d been avoiding for fifteen years. It sounded like such a very long time, yet here he was, so close to the day he’d been dreading all that time.

  When he said nothing, his mother continued. “Lady Alicia and her father will join us for supper tonight. The decision will be made by the time they leave.”

  A pit formed in Evan’s stomach. He hadn’t seen Lady Alicia since she was a girl—eleven to be exact. She’d been pretty and agreeable enough then, but what was she like as an adult? What had fifteen years of waiting done to her? Would she still be agreeable, or would she take her first opportunity to deliver a swift kick to his manhood?

  Either way, he couldn’t put it off any longer. They were coming to dinner, and short of being struck with an ailment that would put him on his deathbed, Evan wasn’t getting out of it.

  “Fine, Mother,” he finally replied. “I look forward to seeing them both.”

  She eyed him warily. Did she know he was lying? He shrugged. What did it matter? He would do his duty by Lady Alicia, no matter what. He’d spent fifteen years being less-than-honorable, but he was the duke now. It was time to become the man his father always hoped he would be.

  “What were you doing outside before, Evan?” Hannah asked from her seat beside him.

  What was he doing? Hmm. How to answer that. Watching a strikingly beautiful young woman contort herself in awkward positions while eavesdropping on a most inappropriate conversation?

  “Just taking some air,” he said with a tight half-smile.

  “It is a lovely day, isn’t it?” Hannah smiled back with a pointed look. She knew he was lying, but she would never give him up—at least she was still the same in that regard. They’d always looked out for one another, until he’d left, of course. Then poor Bunny was on her own and had fallen prey to that blasted Beeston. Evan resisted the urge to kick his own leg under the table.

  “Bright sun, a cool breeze—one cannot ask for more in terms of weather.”

  “Perhaps. But one could certainly ask for more in terms of conversation.” Mother heaved a sigh laden with annoyance at her dull children. “Evan, I trust you’ll be taking up your seat in the House of Lords now that you’re back.”

  Evan shifted in his seat, trying to alleviate the squirming in his stomach. Yet another thing he had dreaded in coming back to England—another reason he’d stayed away so long—he had no interest in politics or bumbling around Westminster with his peers. He ought to have been studying diplomacy and government while he was in Paris, but he just couldn’t avail himself of such topics. He much preferred to sit in a coffee shop and listen to poetry or talk about art with his friends. But he couldn’t tell his mother that. His father had been hugely involved in politics, and he’d groomed his son to be as well. Evan just couldn’t muster the passion for it, though.

  “Yes, of course, Mother,” he lied. “Just as soon as this wedding business is settled.”

  “You needn’t wait. Lady Alicia and I will take care of the details. Just make sure you’re at St. George’s on time.” She took a dainty sip of her tea through pursed lips and set the cup down again. “Now, Hannah…”

  His sister shifted in her seat beside him. “Yes, Mother,” she replied, her tone meek and full of dread.

  “Have you any plans to give Beeston an heir? Whatever is taking so long?”

  Uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Evan shifted his gaze from his mother’s hardened features to his sister’s fallen expression. Poor Bunny. She didn’t deserve this. She had the worst husband any woman could ever want, and one would argue the worst mother too.

  Then a small smile came to her lips. Evan narrowed his eyes at her, but she wouldn’t look at him, only at Mother.

  “Actually…” she said softly, “I was going to wait to make the announcement, but…”

  For the first time that afternoon, the duchess broke out into her version of a smile. It was more like a grimace, as if it caused her great pain to contort her lips in an upward fashion, but Evan knew it was a smile nonetheless.

  “Well, it’s about time.” She straightened her spine—as if it could have gotten any straighter—and took another sip of tea. “I’m just glad that’s settled. I was beginning to wonder if you were barren. What a shame that would have been for Beeston.”

  Evan looked to his sister. She still wore the pleasant smile on her lips, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Mother was a harsh, unfeeling woman, and he was sure Hannah was disappointed in her reaction to the joyful news. He grabbed his sister’s hand, which rested on the table, and gave it a squeeze. “Congratulations, Bunny,” he said tenderly, attempting make up for Mother’s cold response. “You’ll make a wonderful mother.”

  “Not that it matters,” Mother put in. “You’ll have nursemaids and governesses to raise the children.”

  “And what will I do?” Hannah wondered.

  The duchess looked at Hannah as if she’d suddenly sprouted three heads. “Do? Why, oversee a smooth household, of course. Didn’t that finishing school teach you anything? I knew I should have sent you to Mrs. Darniere’s, but you were so insistent on that blasted Bloomsbury school. Ladies Eton, indeed. If your father hadn’t been so soft of heart you would have had a much better education.”

  Silence fell over the room again, during which Evan prayed his mother wouldn’t stay in London for the entire Season. Perhaps if he set the wedding date sooner rather than later, she would retreat to Ballyston Court early. One could only hope.

  “Well,” the duchess said, dabbing her mouth and setting her napkin on the table. “I’ve had enough. Kitty—” she gestured to her companion who, Evan only just realized, sat quietly in the far corner of the room— “I shall retire for my nap now.”

  Kitty rushed to her side, and took her arm. Evan could feel the tension easing from his sister as Mother left the room, and they both sighed in relief when Kitty pulled the door closed behind her.

  Evan was about to open his mouth to console his sister in the aftermath of Mother’s harshness, but she spoke first.

  “I think I’m rather exhausted myself,” she said. “I want to make sure I’m well rested before tonight’s supper.”

  “Oh, of course, Bunny. You need your rest.”

  She gave him a half smile and a slight nod before taking her leave. Evan watched her go, and it wasn’t until she was completely out of sight that he realized he’d not had a chance to ask about the neighbor girl.

  Oh, well. It was no matter. Lady Alicia was his betrothed, and she was the only girl he needed worry about.

  Two

  Grace spent the rest of that afternoon locked away in her room. She swore to herself a thousand times over she would never, ever, for as long as she lived, eavesdrop again. God had surely been trying to punish her by sending the most handsome man He’d ever created to see her in such humiliating positions. Well, she had learned her lesson. She only hoped her neighbor—whoever he was—wasn’t prone to gossip. He certainly didn’t seem the sort to spread rumors, but one never knew. He was rather mysterious, and truthfully, she knew nothing about him—he’d not even offered his name.

  Which was why it was so frustrating that he occupied her thoughts so
entirely. Why, she’d thought of little else all afternoon—not even the scandalous things she’d seen or heard from outside the drawing room earlier.

  Suzie tugged a little too tightly on her hair, bringing her back to the present.

  “Sorry, miss,” she said, in her thick Yorkshire accent. “Your hair is more tangled than usual this evening.”

  It was due to all her contorting in the garden, of course, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “At least it’s less so than my sister’s.”

  “Poor Chloe,” Suzie tsked. “All those curls!”

  “She used to wail something dreadful when Mama would try to comb them. I suspect there was less bellowing from the Tower’s torture chambers.”

  They both giggled and then fell silent. Grace wanted to ask about their neighbor. Would Suzie think anything of it? Or could she appear nonchalant about it?

  “So…” she began.

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Ahem.” She shrugged. Nonchalant was not her strong suit. “I see our neighbors are in residence now.”

  “Ya don’t say! The Duchess of Somerset hasn’t been around much the last few years, not that you’d want her around, the old biddy.”

  “Oh.” Grace didn’t know anything about the duchess. “It was actually…a man I saw.”

  Suzie smiled with a certain glimmer in her eyes. “Did Miss Grace see something she liked?”

  “Suzie!” she scolded the maid. “Of course not. I just…wanted to know if you knew anything about him. That’s all.”

  “Oh, of course, miss. Sorry, miss.” Suzie jabbed a hairpin into another pin curl, barely missing the small bump she’d gotten when she banged her head on the wall earlier. “From what I hear, the Prodigal Son has returned.”

  “Prodigal Son?” Grace’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Why is he called that?”

  Suzie shrugged and reached for another pin. “Because he’s been gone so long. Toured the Continent for fifteen years, supposedly. The rumors say he was trying to avoid marriage to his intended.”

  Intended? Grace couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her heart. “And is he still…engaged to be married?”

  “Seems like it. I hear Lady Alicia and her father, Lord Hedley, will be joining them for supper this evening.”

  Lady Alicia? “The name is familiar.”

  “Oh, you’ve probably heard the tragic tale of her mother. Poor woman was a bit mad in the head, so they called in a doctor to let her blood. Seems they took a bit too much. Didn’t last the night, from what I hear.”

  Grace brought a hand to her heart. “How very tragic,” she said, feeling a bit sick to her stomach. She’d been let once, herself. Not that she remembered any of it. She’d been delirious with fever at the time. Thank heaven the doctor knew when to stop. “Was this very long ago?”

  “Yes, miss. I believe Lady Alicia was just a wee thing when it happened.”

  Grace’s overactive imagination conjured images of the woman in her mad state, having her blood let, and her poor little daughter standing by, watching the horrific scene unfold. Of course, Grace had no idea if Lady Alicia was anywhere nearby when it happened. Perhaps she’d been sent to the nursery with her nursemaid and was none the wiser.

  “What’s his name?” she asked, turning the subject back to her mysterious neighbor.

  “Who? The Prodigal Son?”

  Grace nodded.

  “Evan Gilford, the Duke of Somerset.”

  Grace stared at her maid’s reflection in the mirror. “He’s…a duke?” The heat started at her toes and made its way up to her cheeks until her entire body was aflame.

  “Didn’t ya hear me when I said Duchess of Somerset?”

  She had. “I just assumed there was a Duke of Somerset of the older variety.”

  “He passed some years ago. His son’s the duke now.”

  Dear God in heaven. She’d made an absolute cake of herself in the presence of a duke. It was embarrassing enough when she’d thought him just a gentleman, but to know he was a duke? This was humiliation she would never, ever live down.

  “Well, you don’t need to get yourself all worked up, miss,” Suzie said as she jabbed the last pin into place. “You look as if you’re about to burst into flames.”

  “No, of course not,” Grace replied, attempting to not sound as flustered as she felt. “I’m fine, Suzie. Can you, erm, give me a moment of privacy, please?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right outside when you’re ready.”

  Suzie blessedly left the room and shut the door behind her. Grace promptly dissolved into a puddle of humiliation upon her Aubusson rug. Good heavens, what was the matter with her? Why did she think it a good idea to spy on her sister and her friends? Of course, she’d done it plenty of times without the interruption of a duke, but how had she never considered the possibility that someone might come upon her? Even a gardener or a servant would have been embarrassing enough, especially today. But a duke? With any luck, their paths would never, ever cross again.

  After a few deep breaths, a bit of convincing they’d never run in the same circles, and a reminder that her fierce attraction to him didn’t matter anyway since he was betrothed to Lady Alicia, she called Suzie back in to finish getting ready.

  ~*~

  “His Lordship, the Marquess of Hedley, and daughter, Lady Alicia.”

  Evan snapped his gaze from the roaring fire to the butler who stood in the doorway, and then quickly shifted his attention to Lord Hedley and Lady Alicia. The marquess looked exactly the same as he’d looked the day Evan had set sail for the Continent. But Alicia…well, she was quite different. The ways in which she was different were neither good nor bad, but Evan had to admit that had he seen her on the street, he might not have recognized her.

  He scoffed at his own stupidity. Of course he wouldn’t recognize a woman who had been but a girl last he’d seen her. She’d been in short skirts and long curls back then. But now…now she was most definitely a woman. Her thick chestnut hair was gathered atop her head, and loosened tendrils cascaded around her face and teased the nape of her neck. She wore a gown of the darkest green with gold trim and Evan couldn’t help but think she resembled an elegant Christmas tree. He fought the urge to laugh at that absurd thought. When he finally met her eyes, he realized she’d been staring at him as he’d scanned her personage.

  Heat infused his cheeks for a moment at having been caught, but then, at his mother’s sharp throat clearing, Evan sprang into action. He crossed the room and held out a hand to his future father-in-law.

  “Hedley,” he said, pumping the man’s hand. “It’s been quite some time.”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “Indeed. Fifteen years is most certainly quite some time.” He turned to his daughter. “I don’t suppose you remember Alicia…your intended.”

  Evan met Lady Alicia’s sapphire eyes as he drew her delicate hand to his mouth and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. “How could I forget? Lady Alicia, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again after so many years.”

  She dipped a small curtsey. “Yes. A pleasure.” Her voice was soft and pleasant. No longer was she a gregarious little girl, but a refined and beautiful woman. Perhaps his fate was not nearly as bad as he’d thought it to be.

  He held out his arm for her. “Perhaps you’d like to take a turn about the room with me,” he suggested. “We have some catching up to do, don’t you think?”

  “Indeed.” She smiled sweetly and took hold of his arm. Her father nodded his approval as they set off toward the far corner of the room.

  “I must say,” Evan began, “I’m quite pleased to see how you’ve turned out, Lady Alicia. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but now that we’re back in one another’s company, I predict we’ll have a pleasant marriage, don’t you?”

  Lady Alicia rolled her eyes and tsked. In a single moment she transformed from a sweet, agreeable woman to a, well, not-so-agreeable woman. “And what, pray tell, in the last twenty seconds you’ve been reac
quainted with me gave you that impression?”

  Evan reared back a bit. Her tone was biting, bitter. Her jaw clenched tightly beneath her brown eyes that burned with fury. If Evan was being honest, this was the reaction he’d expected in the first place. She’d taken him off guard, though, with her genteelness at the start. Now he felt ill prepared to deal with her, and just the slightest bit disappointed.

  “I…well, you…I-I mean…”

  “Have you swallowed a canary, my love?” Her voice turned sweeter than a treacle tart, and she batted her long, black lashes at him as they continued their promenade, arm in arm. “That’s just as well, really, since I have a great many things I’d like to say to you.”

  She wouldn’t get to say them just then, thanks to Bunny’s arrival. Hannah glided across the room, a beaming smile upon her face.

  “Lady Alicia!” she said, holding out her hands. Alicia took them and they planted kisses upon one another’s cheeks. “How glad I am to have you here. It has been far too long, hasn’t it?”

  They both shot pointed looks at Evan. He deserved them. But he would quickly grow weary of these games. How long would they torture him and attempt to make him feel badly for his extended absence? Wasn’t it enough he’d not been there in Father’s last hours? Or to save his sister from a horrendous marriage? He would mentally flog himself for the rest of his life—he didn’t need them to add fuel to the fire. At least he was here now, attempting to do the honorable thing. He could have stayed away forever and let them deal with the consequences. Part of him wished he’d taken that route. But he hadn’t. When would they realize that?

  “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to catch up, then,” he said, bowing his way out of their presence as gracefully as possible. He made his way straight to the sidebar and poured himself a generous helping of scotch. He closed his eyes and threw back the drink, enjoying the path of fire it carved to his stomach.

  “Well, well, well, the Prodigal Son returns,” came a slightly drunk slur from behind him.

  Beeston.

  Evan took a deep breath and then turned slowly around to face his brother-in-law. The bastard wore the same smug smile Evan remembered from all those years ago. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but his character made him the ugliest of all mankind.

 

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