Nothing Compares to the Duke

by Christy Carlyle

  “Helping you with your bag.” Glancing down, she realized he was trying to grasp the handle of her portmanteau. His hands were so much larger that his fingers covered hers. She felt the heat of him even through the fabric of her gloves. “It’s heavy. Have you adopted your father’s habit of taking books with you wherever you go?”

  “Yes, but I’ve got it.” Bella pulled away from him, grasping the handle of her case tighter, and climbed into the carriage after Meg.

  Her heart was beating too fast and they hadn’t even started their journey. She claimed the center of her bench, and Rhys seemed to take her cue and settled next to his sister.

  The spot right in front of Bella, where every gray-suited, ruby-waistcoated inch of him was an unavoidable distraction. And, of course, when she looked up, he was watching her.

  A slow smile lifted the edges of his mouth, and she didn’t know whether he was looking forward to the trip or knew precisely how much being in such close confines with him unnerved her.

  “Would you mind sitting next to me?”

  Bella lost her grip on the book she’d been holding as a shield between them.

  Rhys reached out and caught the volume.

  “Pardon?” she asked, her brow crumpled in a frown.

  Rhys handed her the book and then lifted a finger to his lips. “Ssh.” He glanced beside him where Meg was leaning against the wall of the carriage. A soft whistling snore escaped her lips.

  “Oh.” Bella’s expression softened.

  “I thought,” Rhys whispered, “I’d let her stretch out and join you on yours.”

  “Of course.” Bella scooted immediately toward the edge of her bench, gathering the voluminous fabric of her skirt and petticoats snug against her legs.

  Rhys put an arm around Meg and pulled her gently until she was lying across the seat, her head resting on the balled-up overcoat he’d removed.

  Then he moved to Bella’s bench.

  He heard her breath hitch when he placed his hand near hers and brushed the edge of her fingers. She’d removed her gloves. He rarely wore any. Her skin was soft and deliciously warm.

  But he removed his hand. She’d made herself clear. Whatever she felt for him, she was determined not to surrender to it. And she was right.

  She deserved a better man than he could ever be.

  He stared out his carriage window, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, enjoying her violet scent, and wondering what thoughts were churning in her clever mind.

  She stared out her own window, fingers tapping on the book in her lap that she hadn’t yet resumed reading.

  “Other than shopping and inspecting your father’s property in Gordon Square, do you have plans while we’re in London?” she asked quietly without looking his way.

  “I should visit the club.”

  “The Duke’s Den?” She glanced his way and he liked the tone of interest in her voice.

  “Yes, though I doubt I’ll have time to sit for any presentations.”

  “I quite like the notion of investing in ideas.” She laid her hand on the brown leather portmanteau as she spoke.

  “Perhaps you’d care to visit the club.” He turned to look at her. They were so close, he could see the flecks of darker emerald green that glittered in her eyes.

  “Perhaps I would.”

  Rhys smiled. “We could go tomorrow.”

  “Not tomorrow.” She swallowed hard, and Rhys sensed there was something she held back. “I have a few matters I must attend to, as well.”

  “Should I accompany you?” They were engaged, after all.

  “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Most of our time will be spent assisting Meg.”

  That explained nothing about the other matters she wished to attend to in London, but Rhys decided it was best not to pry. She wouldn’t confide in him as she once had.

  For long minutes they said nothing more to each other and the only sound in the carriage was Meg’s soft rhythmic snore.

  Rhys scrutinized the portmanteau Bella had pressed between her side and the carriage wall. “Did you bring any other novels with you?”

  Her eyes widened at the question and she gripped the latch on her case. Looking down, she scooped up the book in her lap and offered it to him.

  “You can have this one.”

  “What will you read?”

  “I’ll take Meg’s lead and rest.”

  Rhys flipped open the book and got as far as reading the title page of Jane Eyre by a Mr. Currer Bell when Bella shifted on the bench.

  He watched out of the corner of his eye as she settled back against the squabs and reached up to loosen the scarf around her neck. Her scent wafted off the fabric and filled the air. A moment later she unfastened the top button of her bodice, and Rhys licked his lips as she stroked the skin of her neck as if to ease tension.

  There was no hope of concentrating on the damned book and all the words determined to confound him when Bella was inches away, her body relaxing against the cushions as she began to doze.

  Once her breathing slowed and he was sure her eyes were closed, he set the book aside and allowed himself one long look at her. She looked peaceful and lovely. When she was awake, there was always a sense of urgency about her, as if all the ideas in her head were impatient to get out. But in repose, her face softened and she wore the tiniest of smiles, as if whatever she was thinking of in slumber pleased her.

  He wondered if he ever featured in her dreams.

  For a while, he simply enjoyed her nearness. Then he leaned his own head back and tried to clear his mind of the yearning he’d felt since the moment he saw her again. He’d agreed to help her. He had no right to all his other wayward desires.

  Bella’s hand landed on his thigh and his eyes shot open. She’d moved so that her head leaned against the carriage window and her arm had fallen slack at her side.

  Rhys laid his hand on hers gently and realized how much he relished the simplicity of touching her. But there were rules, and Bella’s resolve, and he couldn’t deny that he wanted far more than to hold her hand.

  With tender care, he placed her arm back against her body, letting her hand rest on the stretch of seat between them.

  He couldn’t turn back time and undo the past, but he owed her the most honorable behavior he could muster now.

  Glancing at her, he noticed the pulse dancing at the base of her throat and could only think of how much he wanted to kiss her there.

  “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath. This wasn’t going to be bloody easy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning Bella sat in the dress shop of one of London’s most touted modistes and glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering when she could reasonably slip away.

  Rhys seemed nervous too and eager to escape, if his fingers tapping insistently against his thigh were any indication.

  When Lady Margaret and the dressmaker settled down on a settee to peruse a catalog of possible dress designs, Bella clutched the portmanteau she’d brought containing the pages of her manuscript. A few minutes later, she eased out of her chair, hoping to quietly depart.

  But Rhys beat her to it. “Ladies, do you mind if I leave you to order what you wish? I’ll return in an hour.”

  Meg cast a glance Bella’s way and Bella nodded at the girl. Perhaps it was best if Rhys left first. Her appointment wouldn’t take as long as an hour, and Meg would be well occupied with the modiste and her assistants. When Rhys returned, he’d be none the wiser.

  “Perfect,” Meg told him. “I have Bella to help me and I’m certain we’ll still be here in an hour.” She offered Bella a surreptitious wink.

  “Excellent,” he said, though the look on his face was anything but pleased.

  He was nervous and unsettled and had been all morning. During the latter part of carriage ride, rather than engaging in conversation with his usual enthusiasm, he’d kept watch out the carriage window or napped as Meg chattered on about the shops they’d visit and
items that needed to be purchased.

  Rhys offered Bella a nod and then started for the shop’s front door, but at the threshold he turned and beckoned her to join him.

  “You seem troubled,” he said quietly. “Is it about Mr. Radley?”

  Radley. Of course, they still had the address in London to visit. “No, I’m just anxious for things to go well today.”

  She didn’t want to tell him about her appointment. Not until she could report success rather than failure. Even if he would encourage her, and she suspected he would, this was something she needed to do on her own.

  “Don’t worry. You’ve helped immensely, and once we meet with the Tremaynes and the duchess meets Meg, all the burden of assisting her won’t be solely on your shoulders.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Good.” The smile he offered her was full of the kind of ease they’d once shared, and she felt guilty for not telling him of her other purpose for coming to London. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Once he’d gone, she retrieved her bag and told Meg, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. The office isn’t far.”

  The girl stood immediately, nearly toppling two bolts of fabric on the settee next to her. “Good luck.” She kissed Bella softly on the cheek. “I don’t know much about your puzzles but Rhys always said you were the most intelligent girl he’d ever known.”

  “Did he?” He’d complimented her occasionally in the past but she’d never dreamed he’d shared those opinions with others.

  “Always. He still thinks so. It’s why he asked for your help with the ledgers.”

  “I know.”

  “Who knew it would lead to such a quick engagement?” Meg’s smile was full of genuine warmth. “I’m glad we’ll be sisters.”

  Bella couldn’t meet her gaze. Guilt had been her constant companion since they’d begun their charade.

  “I should go.” She gave the girl’s hands an encouraging squeeze. “If there’s anything you need help with, hold the modiste off a bit and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  As Bella exited the shop, she considered whether to take a hansom or an omnibus, debating which would be quicker. Looking over her shoulder, she scanned for empty cabs looking to take on passengers.

  “Bella?”

  Rhys approached along the row of shops.

  Damn it. An explanation would delay her and the chances of making her appointment on time were fading minute by minute. “I thought you weren’t returning for an hour.”

  He looked wounded at her tone. “I came back. For you. I’m headed to my club and wondered if you’d care to see it.”

  “I thought ladies weren’t allowed.” She was curious about what went on at gentlemen’s clubs. Just not at this precise moment.

  He grinned. “I’m a co-owner and prepared to smuggle you inside.”

  Bella glanced back to the cab stand.

  “Where were you off to?” He stared down at the bulky case in her arms. “Did you leave Meg on her own?”

  “I’ll only be gone a short while.” Bella raised her arm but the empty passing hansom didn’t stop. “I’m sorry but I’m late.”

  His frown went from confused to irritated. “Where exactly are you going?”

  Bella ignored his question and stepped toward the curb. Another cab was coming their way and she hoped to catch it.

  Rhys approached, bristling with palpable frustration. “Shouldn’t you tell me? I am your fiancé, after all?”

  Any other time they’d spoken of the ruse, there had been an almost playful tone in his voice. There was none of that now. His question felt like a demand.

  “You’re not actually my fiancé and this is something I must do.” After a sigh of frustration, she lifted her bag. “My puzzles and cryptograms. I’ve arranged them into a manuscript. I’m meeting with a publisher and now I’m going to be late.”

  “No.” After that single emphatic syllable, he turned and headed to the pavement’s edge, then stepped onto the cobblestones. He raised a hand and whistled for the next cab passing by. The driver responded immediately, drawing up the reins so that the horse stopped in front of them. “You’re not going to be late, Bella. I won’t let you be.”

  Even now, she hesitated. The trust he so desperately wanted from her wouldn’t be easy to regain.

  Finally, she sprinted forward, placed her hand in his, and let him help her into the cab. When he settled beside her, she called up an address near Green Park, and the driver immediately urged the horse on its way.

  “Thank you,” she said without glancing at him.

  The quarters were close. Thigh to thigh. Arm to arm. The nearness was tempting. Unnerving. He loved it. She didn’t seem as pleased.

  She vibrated with anxious energy and he had no idea how to soothe her nerves.

  “I’m sure it will go well.” He glanced at her lush mouth and searched his mind for any way he might ease her nervous trembling. Her hazel eyes, lightened to the color of whiskey in the sun, were focused forward as if she could see her goal ahead and refused to shift her attention to anything else.

  Bella had always been lovely, but lately he couldn’t help noticing all the things that made her beautiful. It wasn’t just that Bella was pretty, she exuded a determined energy that made her breathtaking.

  “He’ll like your book. Your ideas.”

  She eased her intense focus long enough to glance at him. “You cannot know that at all.”

  “I have a good feeling.”

  “This has nothing to do with emotion.” She still wouldn’t look at him but she was doing nothing to hide her irritation. “If he likes my book, it will be because he thinks he can sell it. It’s business. Nothing more.”

  “I do know a bit about business.” He still wanted to show her the club. It was the only place he’d ever truly made a success of himself. A place where he’d made choices that made him proud rather than regretful.

  “You’ve never even seen my book,” she said quietly. “This could be an endeavor in futility.”

  “Hardly futile.”

  That earned him another glance and one auburn brow arched high. “Why?”

  “Because you’ve gotten to this point.” He tapped his finger against the square outline of the portmanteau she clutched against her lap as if it was long-lost treasure. “You produced all these words and ideas and organized them into a manuscript. It’s not something I could do.”

  “That’s nonsense. I’ve never seen you fail at anything you set your mind to.”

  Her compliments always came when he least expected them, slipping in past his defenses. Before he could reject her claim or offer words of gratitude, the hansom rolled to a stop.

  Bella jumped down without his help and scanned the street. “You needn’t wait for me,” she called as she started off. “I shouldn’t be long and will return to Meg as soon as I’m done.”

  “Good luck.” He shouted the words so enthusiastically, a lady passing on the street shot him a curious glance.

  All that mattered was that Bella heard him, and he knew she had when she offered him a tentative smile before ascending the steps of a town house two doors down.

  He headed back to the cab but couldn’t bring himself to depart. After paying the driver, he took up a post on the opposite side of the street, waiting, watching. He might have had moments of undeserved luck in his life, but now he wished he could transfer all of it to Bella.

  When she hadn’t emerged after quarter of an hour, worry set in. When she hadn’t appeared after half an hour, he contemplated going in after her.

  Just when he was about to burst into the publisher’s office and make an utter fool of himself, the front door swung open and Bella stepped out.

  He didn’t require an explanation to read her expression.

  “Not at all interested,” she said grimly. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Maybe the entire project is nonsense.” She stared down at her case as if she was considering whether to heave the whole thing into t
he Thames.

  “Arry, there are other publishers in London. Many of them. We’ll simply find one that wants your book.”

  “We? I told you I’m doing this alone.”

  “I know. Of course, it’s your work. Your creativity. But I still wish to help, and you should let me.”

  She twisted her mouth, a gesture that usually indicated she was weighing her options.

  “That’s the whole point of this arrangement, is it not?” he asked. “We help each other.”

  Rhys knew the moment when she let go of her frustration. The edge of her jaw softened, she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, and then she nodded decisively. Straightening her shoulders, she drew in a deep breath, as if already set on some new course.

  “Very well,” she told him. “Then it’s time I help you. We should visit the town house your father purchased.”

  The change of topic made him frown. He much preferred helping her, but she was right. As usual. “We could go now. The address isn’t more than walking distance away.”

  “Then let’s go. Another task off the list.”

  “Meg will be all right, don’t you think?” He didn’t want her to feel they’d forgotten her.

  “She will. Your sister is much more self-reliant than I think any of us give her credit for. We haven’t yet been gone an hour.”

  They proceeded side by side on the pavement, and he found himself smiling. Her companionship was familiar and yet also new. Everything they accomplished together felt as if he was earning back a bit of what had been lost between them. And, of course, now he wanted more.

  After several minutes of silence, she turned her head. “Thank you.”

  When had those two words gained the power to kick his heartbeat into a gallop? “For?”

  “Your encouragement.” She hefted her satchel up onto her shoulder. “I could show you a few pages of my manuscript if you’re interested.”

  “When have I not been interested in your puzzles?”

  The only response to that was a slow smile.

  By the time they reached the town house, Rhys’s thoughts were as far from finding Radley as possible. One image kept playing over in his mind. Bella’s body over his, the hunger in her eyes. He didn’t know if she’d ever look at him that way again, but longing for it was becoming an enormous distraction.