Nothing Compares to the Duke

by Christy Carlyle

  “This will be a happy occasion.”

  “It only needs to be a successful one. After it’s done, the next step will be to convince Mama and Papa to depart.”

  “Aunt Gwendoline has already spoken of preparations and I know how eager your father is to see the Grecian ruins. I don’t think that step will be difficult.”

  Bella nodded. Louisa’s cheerful demeanor made it hard to hold on to doubts and worries.

  But her stubborn nature wanted to try.

  “This could all go spectacularly wrong.” Bella hated the quaver in her voice. She thought of Rhys and his unflappable bravado. If only he could lend her a bit.

  Louisa stared at her, brow crimped in concern. “You’re rarely this pessimistic about a well-thought-out plan, Bell.”

  “Yes, but none of my other plans involved the Duke of Claremont.”

  Rhys flicked his pocket watch from his waistcoat, caught it in his palm, and checked the time. Only quarter of an hour since he’d last looked. No one told him that engagement parties involved a great deal of accepting well-wishes from virtual strangers and not a single moment alone with one’s betrothed.

  He and Bella had stood together as Lord Yardley announced the engagement and they’d both smiled when a few guests immediately offered up murmurs of congratulations. But soon after they’d each been whisked away in opposite directions and he hadn’t spoken to her since.

  The news only seemed to come as a surprise to a few. Most in the intimate gathering of lords and ladies from the county’s best families already seemed to know. News traveled fast in a small village and it was probably the only scandal-free bit of gossip a Claremont had generated in decades.

  “You’re not smiling as much as you should be.” Meg approached the spot where he stood a few feet away from the other guests. She wore a cheerful smile and offered him a crystal cup filled with punch. “You look restless. Thought perhaps you could use some refreshment.”

  “Unless that’s been spiked with whiskey, no thank you.” He’d already had enough of the sickly sweet concoction to turn his stomach.

  “Is there a reason you’re hovering here on the periphery? You usually love parties.” Her smile faded as she moved to stand beside him. “Is something amiss?”

  “Honestly, I was hoping to steal a moment with Bella.”

  Together they looked out on the gathering to find her. Bella stood in a cluster of ladies, where she’d been stuck for over half an hour. The conversation seemed jovial enough, filled with bursts of laughter and chatter that drifted all the way to where he stood near the hedges.

  “The ladies are understandably curious about where she’ll obtain her dress, when the nuptials will be held and where.” Meg glanced at him. “She says none of those decisions have been made. I understand why you’re waiting. A wedding requires so much preparation.”

  “As does a Season.” He winked at her.

  Meg’s eyes widened. “Good heavens, tell me I’m not the reason you’re postponing the wedding until next year.”

  “You’re not. Though it’s better if Bella has time to help you prepare for the Season.”

  “She already has.” Meg turned to him, almost breathlessly eager. “We’ve decided on everything I’ll need and we’ve prepared lists of tasks to accomplish and she knows exactly which shops I should visit.”

  “Sounds as if it’s time for a trip to London. I say we depart tomorrow. Stay a few days at Claremont House.”

  Rhys expected a smile. Maybe even a shout of glee. Instead, Meg cast her gaze toward Bella and then shot him a worried look.

  “Tomorrow may be too soon.”

  “Why?”

  She darted a glance toward the guests again. “I should consult with Bella. She’s inquired for me with a milliner and modiste in Knightsbridge. We don’t yet know when they could accommodate a fitting.”

  “Very well.” Rhys focused on Bella too. She was smiling, but it was a tight uncomfortable smile. “We shall consult her first.”

  “I’ll go and rescue her,” Meg said, echoing his thoughts.

  “She’s my fiancée. I rather think that’s my job.”

  His sister giggled. “Oh it is. But in this case, I’ll have an easier time getting her away and distracting the others while you two have a moment on your own.”

  “Very well.” He glanced behind him at the hedgerows and his stomach clenched at the memory of what had happened there. “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the temple.”

  Lord Yardley had indulged his love of ancient architecture by having a Grecian-style folly constructed on the grounds of Hillcrest. Rhys recalled every moment he and Bella spent playing in and around the circular temple with fondness.

  Meg nodded and headed into the gathering of women. Rhys started off toward the folly. Before he’d even made it halfway, Bella called to him.

  He turned to find her a few feet away, her cheeks flushed and her pale yellow gown flecked with bits of grass. She looked so much like the girl who he’d romped through the fields with barefoot that he couldn’t help but grin.

  “Did you run to catch up?”

  “Mother would never approve of running.” She glanced over her shoulder to where her mother mingled with guests on Hillcrest’s veranda, and then turned back to him. “But I did sprint a bit when I felt certain I was out of sight.”

  Her voice was playful, full of relief, and suddenly he felt lighter too.

  “The party seemed to go well.” He hadn’t participated as much as he should have, but Bella had spoken to nearly every guest.

  “Extremely well. I’ve rarely seen Mama so happy. Papa withdrew to his study soon after it started, but I think he’s pleased too.” She came a step closer. “Why did you retreat?”

  “I didn’t retreat. I was friendly for quite a long time. The conversation waned and I stepped away,” Rhys protested. “I don’t think I gave anyone cause to suspect—”

  “That we’re lying to everyone we know?”

  Rhys clenched his teeth. Guilt gnawed at him. He didn’t want to tell her that he’d stepped away to avoid the whispers and looks of disdain. He’d expected them. By reputation, he’d earned them, and normally that didn’t warrant his notice. But he wasn’t Bella’s fiancé then.

  “You have a very good reason for this scheme. It’s born out of love for your parents, and this plan won’t harm them. We’ve already agreed on all of that.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Her doubts were understandable. He didn’t like the deception either and he still worried for her reputation. But most of all he hated that she no longer seemed at ease.

  “Shall we make our way to the folly?” He began walking backward, keeping his gaze on her, offering her a smile to entice her to join him. He was prepared to do anything to make her forget her worries and guilt. “I haven’t been there in years.”

  She hadn’t budged from where she stood near the entrance to the hedge garden. “We could just find a bench here if you wish to talk.”

  Rhys swallowed down his own dose of guilt. There was challenge in her gaze. As much as he wanted to avoid reliving that day, she seemed to want to do so in equal measure.

  “As you wish.” Stalking past her, he headed down one row and turned. When he spotted the bench where she’d confronted him years before, he turned back and waited.

  He wasn’t a terribly honorable man. He’d wagered recklessly, poured most of his energy into revelry, and sought and found pleasure more often than any man should. Looking back on the last five years, he had little but his involvement with the Duke’s Den to be proud of, but that particular instance of thoughtlessness haunted him like nothing else he’d ever done.

  Because no one in his life had ever thought so highly of him as Bella.

  When she turned the corner to join him, it wasn’t the confident mature Bella he saw standing in front of him now. He saw a girl, young and sweet and innocent. A girl who’d trusted him entirely and idealized him too much.

  “Th
is is where I found you,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why did you do it?”

  “The usual reason.” That’s what she wanted? For him to confess he was a libido-driven wretch? All of London knew that. He could provide her with a dozen scandal rags from the past months that documented his exploits.

  “I don’t know what that means.” She truly looked confused, and he realized this wasn’t just a ploy to force him to humiliate himself and relive his misdeed. In true Bella fashion, she wanted to understand how he worked. If he was a clock, she’d take him apart to figure out what made him tick.

  “I think you know what it means.” Rhys circled around her so she was sheltered from the view of anyone who might be taking a stroll through the gardens.

  She backed up until the bench was pressed against her legs. “You mean desire.”

  “No.” He had not truly desired that lovely widow. Desire was deeper. A longing for someone. Not just wanting their body but their nearness, to hear their voice and smell their scent in the air. “Merely indulgence. Giving in to an urge.”

  “You wanted to . . .” Bella swallowed hard. “. . . bed her.”

  “I responded to an impulse.”

  “Without any thought or consideration of what you being there meant to me?”

  “None at all. I was selfish.” He wouldn’t defend himself, but he also didn’t bother adding that he was still selfish most of the time. It was something he needed to change. Her selfless desire to make her family happy was an example he wished to follow with Meg. “I was cruel.”

  “You were never cruel.”

  Rhys laughed. “Still defending me, I see. You are aware that’s not allowed. It breaks one of our rules.”

  “It doesn’t. The rule implied defending you to someone else and we’re alone.”

  “We are.” Rhys moved a step closer.

  He heard her breath catch.

  “Will you ever trust me again?” The words came out less as a question than a plea. Of all the commodities he’d traded, all the inventions he’d invested in, nothing was more precious than winning back her faith in him.

  He took her hand and held it lightly. Then he pressed her palm flat against his body, much as it had been when she’d arched above him in the study.

  Before she could answer, he added, “I’d change it if I could. There’s nothing I’d like more.”

  She paused, taking a moment to consider her reply. “Emotions are inconvenient at times, and we can’t always control what we feel.”

  It wasn’t an answer and he sensed she wasn’t just referring to his stupidity years ago.

  “Like yesterday?”

  “Yes.” She spoke the word like a confession, laced with guilt and a touch of embarrassment.

  Rhys couldn’t bear her feeling either. But he also wanted to know, needed to know, why she’d done it. “Just an impulse? Or was it more?”

  “More?”

  He took a step closer and told himself not to give in to his impulse to put his arms around her. Those rules of theirs were going out the window quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Impulse or desire?” he asked softly.

  Bella’s hesitation to answer made him wish he hadn’t pushed her. Her answer mattered to him a great deal, and yet he had no right to what he wanted.

  “How would you define each?”

  “Impulse is simple. Shallow. Fleeting.”

  She ducked her head and took a deep breath. “And desire?”

  Reaching up, he laid a finger against her daisy pendant. The metal was warm from the heat of her skin and he almost envied the circle of gold. He slid his finger under her chin.

  She lifted her head and looked at him. First at his lips, then his eyes, then at his lips.

  The memory of her kiss was still fresh. But not nearly fresh enough.

  “This is desire.” He bent his head and took her mouth. Gently. Tenderly. She responded, opening to him, letting him deepen the kiss.

  A moment later she took the lead, tipping her head and pressing her lips to the edge of his mouth. Then she offered him a long, lingering kiss that made him greedy for more. She gripped his lapel but then slid her hand underneath, burrowing under his waistcoat until he could feel the heat of her palm against his chest.

  Rhys pulled her closer, sliding his hand up, grazing the edge of her breast.

  She let out a little hiss at that and he pulled back reluctantly, wary of expecting too much. Everything between them felt fragile and he didn’t want to break it again.

  “Rhys.”

  He always liked the way she said his name, lingering on the sibilant end, especially when she was cross with him.

  “What you felt in the study yesterday?” he whispered against her lips. “That was desire.”

  She didn’t let go of him. He loved that she kept her hand pressed against his chest. It made him bold. He wrapped a hand around her waist and drew her closer, until their bodies were as flush and connected as they’d been the day before.

  For the first time, he saw trepidation in her gaze.

  “We mustn’t do this,” she said with a quiet certainty that cut straight across his longing. “There were rules we agreed to.”

  “You know I’ve never been very good at following rules.”

  “But I am. Rules are what keep me from giving in to impulse anytime I wish.” The bite in her tone was new, but he couldn’t tell if she was angry with him or herself.

  “I told you, Arry. This isn’t impulse.”

  “No.” Bella shook her head and stepped away from him as if she meant to depart and leave him standing in the spot where he’d once nearly destroyed their friendship. “Whatever it is, I can’t let myself give in to it. Not this time.”

  With that, she turned her back on him and headed toward the party.

  For the briefest moment, he felt the desolation he had that day. The fear that he’d never see her again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “It will all go well.” Bella huffed out an irritated sigh as she pushed clothing aside in what was beginning to feel like a futile search for her black traveling gloves. “It’s to be a short trip. What could go wrong?”

  “Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” Louisa sat at the window seat and sipped tea as Bella gathered the last few items she needed for the trip to London.

  “Perhaps both of us.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t simply tell Claremont what you have planned?”

  “No.” Bella pulled out another wardrobe drawer and sifted through a pile of scarves. “If it goes well, believe me I’ll be happy to let everyone know.”

  Tomorrow she had an appointment with a publisher and while she was confident about what she’d say at the meeting, the prospect of slipping away without raising Rhys’s suspicions had her on edge. The plan had seemed entirely workable when she’d discussed it privately with his sister.

  Now anxiety gnawed at her.

  Meg had been encouraging and promised Bella that she’d cover for her absence however she was able. And somehow, she’d intuitively understood why Bella couldn’t tell Rhys.

  In some ways, he still viewed her as her parents did. A dutiful girl, and the only future he could imagine for her was marriage. But he’d also been protective in the past. If she told him, he’d wish to help her, and she wanted none of that.

  “I thought perhaps Aunt Gwendoline would ask me to accompany you.”

  Bella didn’t miss the wistfulness in her cousin’s tone. Any other time, she would have enjoyed her company in the city. But this trip was to be brief and full of activity. Meg had appointments with a modiste and milliner, and they intended to shop for shoes and other accoutrements she’d need for her first Season.

  “You’ll be returning to Hampstead soon to prepare for your own Season, and I think Mama is satisfied that Meg’s presence will serve the role of chaperone well enough.”

  Despite Rhys’s terrible reputation, they seemed to persist in seeing hi
m as the young man he’d once been. A man they’d often trusted to spend time with their daughter alone.

  “We are engaged. That affords a little more freedom to be seen in each other’s company. And the Duke and Duchess of Tremayne have agreed to host me while we’re in London, so I won’t be lodging at Claremont House.”

  “True, but this will be the first time you’re seen together in London society. Heads will turn.”

  “It will be fine.” Bella didn’t know if it was true. The idea of being toe to toe in a carriage with Rhys for hours had been on her mind all morning. But she had to salvage whatever calm she could.

  A noise beyond the window caused Louisa to stand and peer down onto the front drive. “It’s the Claremont carriage.”

  Bella’s breath hitched, but she ignored the flutter in her chest and gathered her scarf, then slid her hands into the traveling gloves she’d found at the bottom of the drawer.

  “Enjoy the trip.” Louisa drew close enough to give Bella a peck on the cheek. “And best of luck with your book.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” Bella smiled and scooped up the small portmanteau she’d chosen to transport her manuscript. Hugging the case to her chest, she willed her pulse to steady. “I can do this.”

  Louisa giggled. “I don’t have a single doubt.”

  Bella made her way downstairs and was relieved to see that the staff had already placed her luggage on the carriage. She’d said her good-byes to her parents earlier.

  Meg clambered down and rushed toward her. “I’m so excited for our trip.”

  Before Bella could answer, the girl wrapped her in a hug. She vibrated with enthusiasm and smelled like springtime, and a bit of Bella’s tension eased.

  Then she glanced over Meg’s shoulder as Rhys stepped down from the carriage.

  For a tall man with such broad shoulders, he maneuvered out with surprising grace. Bella got distracted watching the way he moved and when she looked up, she found his gaze fixed on hers.

  When Meg released her, he stepped forward and reached for her hand.

  “What are you doing?” There wasn’t supposed to be any touching. They’d already broken that rule far too many times.