The Duke's Desire

by Elizabeth Elliot

Curiously he forced her eyes back to him.

  “You do not know her.”

  “No, but I do know you. And your family. And Miss Winthrop would not last a day at the head of it.”

  Laughing, he shook his head.

  “You are a very unique woman, Miss Pinecrest.”

  He was rewarded for the comment with a brilliant smile.

  “I think that may have been the nicest thing you have said to me.”

  Rolling his eyes, he waved his hand toward the room.

  “Very well, Miss Pinecrest. I am in a rather pleasant mood this evening. Do tell me who it is I should be looking to marry.”

  The young lady looked to him with a bit of sadness.

  “You are determined, truly, to marry without love?”

  “Most men in my position do not require love for marriage.”

  For a moment she looked at him, and then to his surprise, she touched his sleeve. It was only for a moment, and then she pulled it away as quickly as she had touched him. Finally, with a frown, she whispered.

  “I think we can agree that you are not most men, Lord Wakefield.”

  Then, with a slight blush, she met his gaze.

  “Also, it had become apparent from my time with your family that love is the most important thing to them when it comes to finding a spouse.”

  Storm took a breath, again surprised by how well this woman seemed to understand his thoughts. To understand him, in all honesty. He had danced far too many dances now for the ton not to realize he was seeking a wife, but he knew Miss Pinecrest would be the only one that would find it out of his character to go about the task in the manner he was.

  “Yes. I am determined to marry this season, Miss Pinecrest. You will have to trust that I have reasons for not waiting for love.”

  Instinctively she reached out and squeezed his arm again.

  “Very well, then, your grace, I suggest that you start looking at the wallflowers.”

  Nothing could have surprised him more. The wallflowers? Surely, she thought enough of him that he would not need to resort to a wallflower.

  “Pardon?”

  Rolling her eyes, she motioned to the punch.

  “Will you stroll with me to the punch. If we continue to stand here together I am afraid people will start to gossip.”

  Agreeing, they started to stroll toward the punch. For a moment she did not speak, but stopping briefly, she forced his eyes to a woman who was lingering on the outskirts of the crowd.

  “Miss Iris Pemthorpe.”

  Storm had long ago learned the skill of assessing a woman without staring directly and as he continued their stroll he studied the prospective bride. She was very plain, he thought. Average height, hair that was not quite blonde but not quite brunette. He would admit that she had a rather slim figure which she hid under a modest dress.

  “She seems rather plain.”

  His new-found confidante looked at him with disappointment in her eyes.

  “Miss Pemthorpe lost her mother during her first season. She spent her second in mourning. This is her third, and her sister’s first. Since her father had not remarried, and her eldest brother is still at Eton, the plain Miss Pemthorpe spends her balls looking after her sister, having lost any hope of a fortunate match after missing her first two years as a young deb.”

  He looked toward the woman a bit surprised.

  “She has been running her household in her mother’s absence, one that consist of two additional sisters, I may note, and she is more than capable of managing social situations with grace and ease. Not that anyone bothers to notice.”

  Storm looked to the lady beside him.

  “Do you know her?”

  Eleanor shook her head.

  “We were introduced briefly.”

  They stopped walking and stood silently for a moment. Storm was always surprised that she seemed comfortable with silence. It was rare that a woman just did not prattle on at him.

  “Lord Wakefield, if I may be honest, you are a very handsome, powerful and rich gentleman.”

  Shocked by her words he went to speak, but she had more to say.

  “Clearly you are capable of marrying whomever it is you choose. And if you really think a young, foolish young blonde straight out of the school room is what you want, by all means, that is your choice. No doubt you will end up with a beautifully stunning bride. I however, despite your flaws, have always respected you.”

  He laughed at that and placed her hand on his arm, guiding her once again to the punch. People were, indeed, starting to stare. She blushed as they fell into pace next to each other, but that did not silence her.

  “I suspect, that if you marry such a woman you would regret it within a fortnight. You cannot tolerate a wife that you could not hold a conversation with. This is why you did not continue your ridiculous pursuit of my sister. Could you honestly see young Miss Winthrop trying to scold Willow?”

  The image was so humous Storm laughed loudly, drawing further attention.

  “I suppose not, Miss Pinecrest.”

  “Exactly. I feel, well frankly, I feel that if you are not going to marry for love, you should at least set an example for others. The women who stand on the outskirts of the ballrooms have more beauty in them than any young deb floating through that waltz right now.”

  “You seem very sure of this after only a few weeks in London yourself.”

  They arrived at the punch and he found himself pouring a glass of it for the opinionated woman. She took it happily and Storm watched as she took a sip from the glass. He had never noticed how full and lovely her lips were. He ignored that thought and met her gaze again. With a challenge in them, she whispered.

  “If I can prove to you that I am right about this, will you ask Miss Pemthorpe to dance?”

  Amused, Storm looked back to the woman. Miss Pinecrest seemed so determined.

  “Just to dance? You do not expect me to marry her on the spot?”

  The woman smiled and laughed.

  “Of course not. I am not even saying you have to marry her in particular. I just want you to start looking at the women who are really worthy of you. Not just the ones who are the most beautiful. I think it would surprise you how beautiful she could be once you can see the inner light that shines in her. Besides, I guarantee that even if you only dance one dance with her, it will change her life forever. People will take notice of your notice of her and she will suddenly be dancing every dance. And then maybe, just maybe, if it is not you, she will find someone who will want to marry her.”

  “You are expecting a lot out of one dance from me.”

  The woman smiled.

  “You really do not know how influential you are, do you?”

  “It would just be one dance."

  Eleanor stood there shocked. For the first time she realized that the duke did not realize how powerful he had become. In a way, she suspected, he may never understand it. He was so focused on the man his father was, he had no clue that he was now that man. She felt so sad for his loss. More so now than ever before. There was only one way to show him.

  “Look at the number of women in this room. Do you know who I think is the most beautiful. The person who I am convince no one will be worthy of?”

  Storm looked around but simply shrugged.

  “I have not one clue.”

  Then shifting ever so slightly so he could see past her, she whispered.

  “Your sister Bonnet.”

  Eleanor watched his expression as he noticed his sister. A flutter of emotions washed over him and she was bewildered by it all. The sudden need to just wrap him in her arms was almost overwhelming.

  “My sister?”

  “Yes. I think we both agree that your sister is remarkable.”

  She saw the duke nod, his eyes still focused on his eldest sister.

  “But she spends every ballroom on the outskirts of her room. Other than me, her closest friends are nearly double her age.”

  Stumbli
ng on his words, he met her gaze.

  “I… I never realized… I…”

  With a sigh, Eleanor stared at his sister.

  “Sometime a brother does not realize how many sacrifices a sister must make when their mother dies.”

  Then, trying erase the dukes frown, Eleanor placed her cup down and gave him an encouraging look.

  “She does not mind it. Honestly. Bonnet is very happy. I just wanted you to see that sometimes the most amazing woman in the room is the one you least expect it to be.”

  Looking back to his sister he tilted her head.

  “Who would change her life?”

  “Pardon?’

  “You say that one dance with me can change Miss Pemthorpe’s life. Who would Bonnet need to dance with to change hers?”

  Eleanor studied the duke. She was sure that at an upcoming ball his eldest sister would suddenly find her dance card full.

  “I am sadly not as familiar with the gentlemen of the ton as I am with the women. I would think, however, any man that you call a friend would suffice.”

  He nodded and the strands of the waltz came to a close. Eleanor notice that both Felicity and Peaches were heading toward the punch. The duke looked to her with a frown.

  “You knew they would come for the punch.”

  Eleanor smiled.

  “The punch bowl is a fair distance away from where they would end dancing. Both women would claim thirst to linger on the arm of their partners. I knew Felicity would do so with Lord Derrington, but I confess, I was hoping that Peaches would return to your sister.”

  Storm nodded.

  “I will do my best to be more cautious about their association, as you requested. For now, however, I have a dance partner to go obtain.”

  As the couples approached Eleanor saw Storm slip off in the direction of Miss Pemthorpe and worried, for the first time, that perhaps she should be a bit more cautious about her affections as well.

  Chapter Ten

  It was late. Too late for him to be out of bed, but he could not get Eleanor’s words out of his head. She had been right about so many things. He had not enjoyed a dance the whole season as much as he enjoyed dancing with Miss Iris Pemthorpe. She was charming, intelligent and, the more he spoke to her, the less plain she had begun to seem. Dancing with her had been rather refreshing and had given him hope that he may find a woman to marry who he could be content with, even if he could not love her. But, although she was lovely, Storm was not convinced that Miss Pemthorpe was exactly the right wife for him.

  Which led him to Miss Pinecrest. He could not believe how well she seemed to know what he needed. And more than that what his family needed. She was right. The woman he had been previously considering would never be able to scold Willow, and of course, as head of the household, his wife would need to have such a skill. But more than that, she had shown him how much he had completely failed his sister Bonnet.

  Lightning struck nearby, illuminating the whole house. It was a very bad storm out there. They seemed to be coming more frequently these days. Again, Storm could not help but feel it was a warning. Pouring himself another brandy he, once again, reminded himself that it was far too late to be up.

  “You should be in bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  Storm had wondered, at times, if his sister could read his mind and now he had the unnerving feeling that she could. He motioned for her to join him, pouring a brandy for her. She never drank, but tonight, well tonight seemed to call for it. He saw her hesitation, but when the sound of thunder rumbled, she quickly took a seat next to him.

  “I hate storms.”

  Chuckling, he handed her the glass.

  “I wish you would stop saying that. Someone may think we are having a falling out.”

  Bonnet answered that with only a glare and surprisingly took a sip of her glass. This was going to be a strange night indeed. Clearly, however, she was trying to determine how drunk he was.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” he continued, “and I do not want you to be offended.”

  She raised a brow.

  “You know you may ask me anything.”

  He paused a moment, truly looking at her. Storm had probably spent more time in Bonnet’s company than anyone else but tonight, it was different. Silently cursing Eleanor Pinecrest for making him think of a great many things this evening Storm forged ahead with the first problem at hand.

  “Why is it that you never dance at balls?”

  He regretted asking the moment he saw the look on Bonnet’s face. It was clear she actually debated lying to him. They had never had a moment in which they lied to each other. A fact, he noted, that was one of the reasons they had been so successful after their parents passed. But, as always, the truth won out and his sister spoke, her words soft and sad.

  “Well, dear brother, I do not dance because no gentleman ever asks me too.”

  At that point, some of the elusive truth he had been debated took form. Eleanor had been right. He had not been a good brother to Bonnet. Before he could respond, Bonnet took another sip of brandy and continued.

  “Storm, it should not be such a shock. Mother and father died when my season was to happen, and there was the year of mourning, and then a year we took to adjust to the situation we found ourselves in. When we finally did come to London, Aria was having her season. Most people see me as a chaperone, not a woman on the marriage mart.”

  Storm frowned.

  “It is my fault and it was not fair of me. I have been a terrible brother.”

  Anger flashed through Bonnet.

  “Storm Westbrook, let me make one thing perfectly clear. If anyone, including you, ever states that you are a terrible brother I will challenge them to pistols at dawn.”

  He could not help but laugh. Her loyalty to him was remarkable. And the truth of her words set him more at ease. Quickly finishing her drink, she moved closer and placed her hand on his giving it a gentle squeeze before relaxing into her chair.

  “Storm, we both have made sacrifices for our family. Suffering through a ball without dancing is insignificant. Rest assured that I do not sit in my room crying about it every night.”

  When he met her gaze, he could see the truth of her words and he had never loved his sister more than he did at that moment.

  “I would be lost without you, I hope you know that.”

  Bonnet reached over and took his hand, gently squeezing it. Offering her a smile, Storm spoke.

  “Never in my life have I been so proud to have you as a sister. I am sorry you have had to sacrifice so much. One day I will find a way to repay you.”

  Tears were in her eyes now and she actually got up and hugged him before taking her seat.

  “There is nothing I would not do for this family. I am happy Storm, truly, what brought all this on?”

  Inwardly laughing he realized he actually just debated lying to her. This was really an extraordinary day. But their relationship was too strong for lies.

  “Miss Pinecrest.”

  “Felicity?”

  He knew she understood he was speaking of the elder Pinecrest, but she never missed an opportunity to make him say her name.

  “Eleanor.”

  “Ah, what exactly did she say?”

  He sighed.

  “I… honestly I am not sure. We were discussing her sister, and the young earl, my marriage prospects and…”

  “You were talking about your marriage prospects?”

  Storm frowned, remembering another issue he needed to talk to Bonnet about.

  “Yes, which reminds me, we need to pay closer attention to the attachment forming between Peaches and Marcus Pinecrest.”

  Bonnet shook her head.

  “Okay, first let us return to you and Miss Pinecrest discussing whom you should marry.”

  “She made some valid points, actually.”

  Storm watched as his sister poured herself another brandy.

  “Oh? Such as…”

  W
ith a frown, Storm brought the image of Miss Pinecrest to his mind. He could not get her wide eyes and long lashes out of his thoughts. Realizing he must have had far too much brandy, he turned back to his sister.

  “Well, for one thing, I need to stop focusing on the foolish younger debs as I have been.”

  His sister’s brow rose.

  “Oh?”

  “Also, I seem to have some sort of power and influence on the other men in the ton.”

  His sister practically spit her brandy across the room.

  “Were you really so unaware of that?”

  He thought about it.

  “Yes. Well, I suppose I suspected some of the other gentlemen looked to as an example, but I did not realize that who I chose as a dance partner would matter.”

  Bonnet laughed.

  “For a man as smart as you are dear brother, you are sometimes completely daft.”

  He was actually offended, but apparently, she was not done.

  “I love you, but I truly cannot believe that it took Eleanor for you to realize this.”

  Storm just stared at her blankly and another shot of lightning crossed the sky. His sister jumped, took another sip of her brandy, and reached over to take his hand. Bonnet looked tired. She really should be in bed. As should he. Finally, he continued.

  “She challenged me to dance with what she described as a wallflower.”

  “And did you take the challenge?”

  Taking a sip of his own brandy, he nodded.

  “I did, and the surprising thing is, she was right.”

  Bonnet smiled to him.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did it not occur to you, to perhaps ask Eleanor to dance?”

  He frowned. It truly had not occurred to him. And he suspected that if he did it would draw far too much attention. Dancing with a wallflower was one thing, but Miss Pinecrest was not dressed to get noticed. If he danced with her, he was not sure that the attention she received would have been good. With a sigh he looked to his favorite sister.

  “No. You and I both know that drawing any attention to her may not be in her best interest.”

  Bonnet nodded for a moment and then slammed her glass down on the desk and rose. With a glare, Bonnet leaned forward.