The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)

by Stephanie Feagan

  She smelled of lemons. How appropriate. “There is a distinction between bravery and a wish for self destruction, Lady Jane.”

  Her eyes were lit with amusement. “And you are bent on self destruction?”

  “Of course not. Our dancing together isn’t condoned, but I’m above reproach. Your lessons in peerage must surely have made that clear.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “Dukes behaving badly must be countenanced?”

  “Precisely.” She was a divine dancer, quite light on her feet. He pulled her a bit closer. She did not withdraw.

  “Shall I puzzle it out then?”

  “Please do.”

  “I’ve already discounted the notion that your interest is based upon idle, rude curiosity. You’ve no need for female companionship, owing to the fact you have a mistress, and even if your intentions were so dishonorable as to include making me your mistress, my father would kill you, duke or no.”

  In spite of himself, he was shocked. But he remained mute.

  She laughed. Right in the midst of a waltz, with all of London society looking on, she laughed at him. “I have a tendency to plain speaking, Your Grace.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Was she not going to speak plainly of their marriage that did not happen? Could she simply ignore their history?

  “I assume, from your stunned expression, that my second guess is inaccurate. You don’t wish to make me your mistress, despite my ruination. Can it be that your intentions are honorable? Are you searching for a duchess to produce the heir you covet?”

  “There was a time when the idea of marriage to me pleased you.”

  Her smile never failed. “Yes, I remember it well. What was it you said? I am ruled by passion and would make a most unsuitable duchess. I would be your very last choice of a duchess. Yet here we are, four years later, and I’ve suddenly become quite the thing to you. What fascinates me is how I can now be so attractive to you. Not only am I ruled by passion, I’m totally and completely ruined. My reputation is destroyed.” Her gaze never wavered. “For a large man, you are really quite an excellent dancer.”

  Michael deeply suspected she was not one to idly offer flattery. “Thank you.”

  “Of all women, why me?”

  Her waist dipped in above her hips with an enticing curve. Lady Jane was born in the wrong era of fashion; the high waistline of the current mode did not allow a man to adequately appreciate her hourglass shape. “Why not?”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Sir, you insult me. Shall I request pen and paper and list out the reasons? I believe it will require two sheets of Lady Manderly’s stationery.”

  He couldn’t very well say right out loud that she was his only choice. For all that he was a man of few words, he wasn’t an addlepated clod. In his fashion, he was bent on wooing her to accept his hand. There must necessarily be some semblance of a courtship. “I find you very attractive.” It was not a lie. She was a beautiful woman. Bedding her would definitely be a step above unpleasant. Many steps, actually. He was still obsessed, it appeared. Despite harsh, silent commands to the contrary, his cock was beginning to make itself known. He did not recall ever having such a thing occur merely by dancing with a woman. He inhaled her scent, once again. How intriguing that she smelled of lemons.

  “There are several dozen unmarried ladies in this very room who are also attractive. They are not ruined and would make quite the nice duchess. I repeat, why me?”

  “Perhaps I am merely altruistic, desirous of saving you from your fallen status. Had you thought of that?”

  “Yes, quite. And maybe I’m the long lost daughter of an Indian nabob, kidnapped at birth and brought here to wreak havoc on the poor sensibilities of the ton.”

  Hell and damn. “If plain speaking is your desire, by all means, let us speak plainly. We will suit. That is all.”

  She was quiet for a long moment before she said, without the ghost of a smile, “Your Grace is as much a pariah as I, and I do believe you’re correct.”

  “I generally am, you’ll discover.”

  “Have you no anxiety that I might leave you at the altar again?”

  “None at all.” He swung her about a bit faster, enjoying the heightened color in her cheeks. Lady Jane benefited from exertion. “You’ve had your revenge and I my humble pie. You need your respectability restored. I need a wife.”

  “Why do you presume I would marry you when no one else will?”

  “Because you want a husband, family and respectability, and much as I am faced with one clear choice, so are you. You surmise, rightly so, I have acquired humility due to the unfortunate circumstances of my previous marriages. I am brought to heel, Lady Jane, and am now and ever will be, your servant. If you will allow it.” It was a calculated gamble to say so. He actually had no idea. She might tell him to go to the devil.

  Her look was filled with knowing. “Has it come to that, then? I really am your only choice, your last chance, am I not?”

  “Yes, Jane, it has come to that.” He stared down at her and drew her closer still, his thighs brushing hers as they moved in ever faster circles. “We are beyond polite banter.”

  “I should hope so, Your Grace. Polite banter with a man who ravished me seems hypocritical in the extreme.”

  “For reasons I’d prefer not to enumerate, I feel it best to marry a woman whom I respect, but do not love. In fact, I prefer not to harbor the slightest affection for a wife. I most certainly do not want a wife ruled by a passionate nature. To be brief, Lady Jane, I am drawn to you. I find I still want you, even after what you did to me, after four years and the death of two wives. It bothers me to marry you, and I will say right out, I will never allow myself to tender an affection for you. But we will rub along well, I believe.” His hand dropped an inch, until his wrist touched her hip. “And I am convinced you will not die.”

  “Because I have adequate hips?”

  “Precisely.”

  “How very romantic, Blixford. I may faint, I am so overcome with passion.”

  Her eyes glittered with anything but passion.

  “You’re angry, but it’s misplaced, Lady Jane. I mean no offense, and am sincere. You asked for the truth and I have given it to you.” He glanced over her shoulder, noting they were now completely alone on the dance floor and the room was lined with all of polite society, surreptitiously gawking behind fans and glasses of punch. Perfect. “Look about you, Jane. These are our people, those whom we must befriend for the sake of our families and our children, if not for our own need of human companionship. They are judging us, finding us lacking. Marriage will bring both of us back into the fold, but no one else will have you, and no one will have me. You were never meant to be a spinster, Jane. Marry me.”

  Her gaze moved to one side of him and she watched as he swept her past the faces of those who would not accept her unless and until she obeyed the rules.

  “I will consider it, Your Grace, under one condition.”

  “What is that?”

  She met his gaze. “You must give up your mistress.”

  “How do you know I have one?”

  “Because I followed you there, just last night. Her house is in a neighborhood known as a haven for mistresses. She is quite lovely, and I’m sure an able companion for you, but I simply won’t share. Give her up, or find another bride.”

  He missed a step.

  “Oh, do stop glowering at me, Blixford. Try to remember, it’s been four years since you saw me last. A great many things can happen in four years. I am no longer a child, and you no longer hold all the best cards in your large hand.”

  “My hands are large?”

  “Huge. I always loved your hands.” She peered up at him and smiled, perhaps the first genuine smile of the evening. “And your nose.”

  “My nose is generally considered my worst feature.”

  “It is striking and ruins your beauty. This is not a bad thing, for certainly a beautiful man is less a novelty than an anomaly.�
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  He was surprised into silence.

  “You do realize, if you marry me, you’ll be laughed at unmercifully?”

  Once more, he twirled her about the floor, completely unhindered by others. “You do realize I don’t give a damn?”

  “Well, then,” she said as the music came to an end, “shall I expect you to call on the morrow?”

  He offered his arm. “Will you receive me?”

  “Of course. You are a duke and it would be the height of rudeness not to. I am plain spoken, Your Grace. Never rude.”

  “That was not my question, Lady Jane. If I call, will you be receptive to a brief courtship?”

  She looked up at him as they walked from the dance floor. “Yes, Your Grace. My aversion to matrimony only extends to toads.”

  “And I am not a toad?”

  “Not tonight.”

  Well. That was something, wasn’t it?

  “Incidentally, why are you here, uninvited?” He wondered if she would tell him the truth of it and was pleased when she attempted no artful dodge.

  She stopped when she reached the periphery and faced him. “To see you, of course. Sherbourne nearly went into apoplexy, but he sees it is the only way.”

  “Do you mean to say you knew I’d come, knew I’d offer again?”

  Her eyes were frosty. “As I said, Your Grace, a lot can happen in four years. You are not the only one for whom time did not stand still.”

  “You sound positively mysterious, Lady Jane.”

  “Nothing of the sort. I am only grown up, you see.”

  Grown up, indeed. Her height was the same, but she had bloomed into a ravishing beauty, her bosom full, her arms graceful and slender. “Why did you follow me last night? Come to think of it, how did you follow me?”

  “I am furlongs ahead of you, Blixford. When I decided to come home, I knew it would not be permanent unless I could redeem myself, and my only avenue to redemption is marriage. It took me all of one day to determine that no one but you will suit. Without the benefit of my previous friendships and associations, I was unable to gain any satisfactory information about you, thus my discreet investigation. I’ve actually been following you two days past.” She frowned slightly. “You really should attend to your driver a bit more closely. While you stopped off at your club, he entertained a woman within your coach. I was quite shocked.” Her frown disappeared. “As to how I followed, I’d rather not say.”

  “I’d rather you did.”

  “I will demonstrate at a later date.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. In the meantime, I ask that you leave off shadowing me, Lady Jane. I find the thought unnerving.”

  “Never fear, Your Grace. With the exception of your visit to your mistress, your activities are exceedingly dull. I daresay two days of boring reconnaissance were quite paid off by that.” The frown returned. “You will give her up, will you not?”

  She was perfectly safe from death by his demon seed. This marriage would kill him long before he could get her pregnant. “I will give her up. By this time next week, she’ll be another man’s responsibility.”

  “Do be sure to give her a large settlement.”

  “That is hardly something with which you should concern yourself.”

  “I am to take her place as your lover. It would soothe my conscience to know she’s been handsomely taken care of.”

  “You will be my wife, Lady Jane. There is a difference.”

  Her gaze was direct and halfway to icy. “I’m merely a brood mare, then? You will get a child on me with due haste and perform the duty without passion?” She nodded. “Of course you will. It is what I’d expect of you, a man of controlled emotion.”

  She was insulting him. “I am not an automaton, ma’am.”

  “And I will not be merely a brood mare. I fully expect to find pleasure in our marriage bed. Whether or not you enjoy the experience is entirely up to you.”

  “Well.” He took a deep breath and let it out on a huff. “Well.”

  “My brothers are correct. You are a stick. Perhaps this is a mistake. Perhaps I should return to Scotland and marry MacDougal, after all. He was most insistent and, I think, heartbroken when I left.”

  She was a sly one. Michael caught himself enjoying their conversation, in spite of the true wretchedness of his situation. “Idle threats can sometimes have a way of haunting one, Lady Jane. In future, once we are married, I’d prefer never to hear the name MacDougal again. I’d also prefer you give off attempting to goad me by pointing out what you and your brothers perceive to be character flaws. If I am a stick, you are a hoyden.”

  “I’m very much a hoyden, as you well know. We are ill matched on all accounts and I foresee a turbulent marriage.” She stepped a bit closer and lowered her voice. “However, despite four years and additional experiences, I have not forgotten my ravishment, and I will not be coy and say I am not anticipating further exploration of such.”

  “Additional experiences, ma’am?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, all quite illuminating.”

  Hell and damn. “I see. In what way, may I ask?”

  “No, you may not. Suffice it to say, I would not conceive of marrying you if I did not anticipate some measure of fulfillment. I will accept no one in my bed but you, so it will be up to you to provide what I need. Are you comfortable with this? If not, speak now and I shall return to Scotland.”

  “I believe the subject bears further analysis. We will discuss it tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Sherbourne returned just then. He scowled at Michael before he turned his attention to Jane. “Well?”

  “The duke will call on the morrow.”

  “Very well. Come along, daughter. I’ve had enough of the fishbowl tonight.”

  Michael watched them leave, his mind turning over all that she’d said. Obviously, Lady Jane believed she held the upper hand, that he was desperate enough for a wife, for an heir, he would dance to her tune, whether the melody pleased him or not.

  Michael took his leave of Lady Manderly and made his way to his carriage. Once inside, he glanced about and noted a stocking wedged between the squabs. Hmm. He’d definitely have a word with his driver.

  He alighted on Marchmont street and rapped at the door of a sedate, attractive row house. Miriam opened almost immediately, her pretty face beaming a welcome. “Blix! I hadn’t expected you this evening.”

  Hard and frustrated, feeling damned to eternal Hell, Michael stepped inside and reached for her as the door closed behind him.

  Chapter 4

  “Jane, are you absolutely sure? I admit, the thought of you married to him bothers me no small amount. He’s an autocrat. He has a tendency to cold arrogance.”

  At the breakfast table, glancing at Robert over her coffee, Jane smiled. He was closest to her in age, just two years her elder. At four and twenty, he was a strapping man– actually the tallest of the brothers, taller even than Sherbourne. She noted her papa was also staring at her, awaiting a reply. Her gaze moved to his right, to her brother, Bram. At five and twenty, Bram was the most serious of them all, although, even in his seriousness, he couldn’t match Blixford.

  “I’m quite sure. So long as I’m ruined and shunned, it will be difficult for any of you to find suitable brides. It’s my duty to marry Blixford.”

  “Nonsense!” Jack said with a scowl. “If you’ve no wish to marry the scoundrel, do not do so on our account. Respectability can be yours again regardless of whom you choose to marry.”

  Jack was second oldest, married at one and twenty and widowed three years later, while he was in the Peninsula with Wellington. His had been a love match and he’d yet to try again. Jane well understood his insistence upon marrying for love. Owing to their family’s great wealth, each of them had the luxury. Oddly, Jack was the only one who’d thus far walked down the aisle.

  They were all there, even the eldest, Sherbourne’s heir, James. Upon her return from Scotland, her brothers
rallied about, determined to put to rights what had gone so wrong four years earlier. When she declared herself ready for London, they’d each traveled along, four of them taking up residence with her and Papa in the house on Grosvenor Square. Only James and Julian were not staying with them; James having his own house in Cavendish Square and Julian electing to stay with him, due to late hours he said were certain to disrupt the household.

  This morning, in anticipation of the duke’s call, of the beginning of his courtship, they were all there, a wall of masculine support. Jane would find it humorous if they didn’t each one look as though they’d love nothing more than to murder Blixford. His title meant nothing to the Lennox brothers. He was a man before he was a duke, and he’d taken liberties with their sister. He deserved to die, and she didn’t doubt Julian could accomplish such without mishap, without detection. The duke would simply disappear and none would ever find evidence of a Lennox hand in the matter.

  “He’s a dreadful stick, Janie. Chances are he won’t permit you much freedom.” James stirred a spot of cream into his coffee. “Once you’ve married, he’ll have rights upon your movements.”

  “He may have rights, but I don’t have to obey.”

  They all exchanged glances. Julian cleared his throat and said in his silky voice, “If I felt a farthing of sympathy for the man, I might pull him aside and warn him.”

  “I daresay the chap’s well aware,” his twin, Henry, said around a bite of his toast. “She did leave him holding a useless special license, did she not?”

  Laughter erupted and the memory was gone over, once again. Even Jane couldn’t help a smile.

  Her father, however, was not amused. “There are elements of life subject to ridicule. Your sister’s marriage doesn’t qualify. I expect each of you to treat Blixford with all due respect. No shenanigans. Do I make myself clear?”

  The table quieted, each of her brothers acquiescing through his silence.

  The earl got to his feet and made his way round the dining room, reaching out to pet her hair. “You’re a willful brat, Jane, but I will hate to see you leave my house, so soon after returning.”