Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Karen Lingefelt

  “Kate, I’m begging you to please stay here for the night.”

  “I won’t,” she said fiercely as she fumbled with the lock on the door. “I assure you I’ll be perfectly safe. My bedchamber door also has a lock. In the morning I’ll leave with you, because I do still wish to go to London. But I don’t think we should do again what happened tonight.”

  “Aside from what happened at the very end, did you not enjoy it?”

  She kept her back to him as the tears finally started to flow. “What do you think? Of course I did! I But I—oh, never mind.” She dashed out of the bedchamber, throwing the door closed behind her, and fled down the hallway. She reached the landing that looked down into the cavernous front hall, and from there she could hear the strains of the string ensemble playing something by Vivaldi. Or maybe it was Telemann. Unlike many people, Kate seldom got the two confused. Until now.

  At least the ball was still proceeding as if nothing unusual had happened. She continued to the opposite wing of the manor and was halfway down the hallway to her bedchamber when she halted in her tracks, as it suddenly dawned on her that she’d left her spectacles on Nathan’s bedside table.

  Curses! Well, there was no way she was going back for them now. Knowing him, he wouldn’t let her escape him a second time.

  She found her own bedchamber and, after locking the door behind her, threw herself across the bed as her heart shattered into pieces.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trevor assured Nathan the following morning that no apology was required for what had happened last night. “Neither Susannah nor I expected Sir Niles Barnett to show up last night, let alone with such an unsavory friend—as if he might have any other kind. You know you’re both welcome to stay as long as you like, but we understand completely if you feel it necessary to continue on your journey.”

  Trevor even offered the use of one of his own carriages to take them all the way to London. Nathan gratefully accepted the offer, though for at least the first leg of the journey, he decided it would be best to travel as an outrider and let Kate have the carriage to herself.

  She looked thunderous this morning. Until he returned the spectacles she’d left behind in his bedchamber last night, he liked to think it was because she was only trying to squint to see where she was going. But no, even after she peevishly snatched them out of his hand and mumbled—more like grumbled—a begrudging thanks and slipped them back into place, she continued to look daggers, though she studiously avoided stabbing him with so much as a glance.

  Which was not to say she wouldn’t want to stab him with something more lethal.

  He and Trevor shook hands, while a short distance away, Kate and Susannah exchanged hugs and whispers. Soon they were on their way, Kate inside the carriage, with Bilby and the Ellington coachman on the driver’s box, and a groom on the tiger’s seat. Nathan rode ahead on his mount, not wishing to ride alongside the carriage where Kate might have to see him out the window, when she’d undoubtedly prefer to watch the scenery instead of his boots hanging over his horse’s flanks.

  The scenery was another reason he preferred a mount for the time being. He loved Derbyshire, for in many ways the verdant hills and rocky peaks reminded him of Scotland.

  A third reason was that he continued to dwell on what had taken place last night, and the memory played havoc with his loins as well as his heart. Being in the saddle didn’t help, but it certainly wouldn’t do for him to sit across from Kate in a rocking carriage while he was in an obvious state of arousal. Women, at least, could hide theirs. He could have no idea if she was thinking of what happened last night. If she was, her memories couldn’t be as fond as his.

  Obviously, she felt he’d taken advantage of her, and he berated himself for having done so—or at least for having left her with the impression. He knew the only honorable thing now was to marry her. It would also keep her safe from predators like Waldrop and her stepfather.

  But it wasn’t just honor and the desire to keep her safe that sent this idea flitting through his turbulent mind. It was something else, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. Whatever it was, he knew it transcended anything he’d ever felt for anyone else. When he applied this feeling to Kate, it seemed to magnify and become more intense. He feared now that losing Kate would affect him just as deeply, if not more so, than losing the parents he barely remembered now.

  To think he hadn’t wanted to make this journey in the first place, unaware it would lead him not only to London, but to something else. Someone else.

  Someone he found when he wasn’t even looking for her.

  When he’d set out from Edinburgh, his only thought was to reach London as soon as possible, for he disliked traveling and he knew why. It was that nightmarish incident from his childhood, when his much older half brother had abandoned him on this very road. Nathan couldn’t remember exactly where, but he’d always thought that if ever he happened to pass by the fateful spot, he would surely feel the same shivery shudder that legend dictated he should feel whenever someone walked over his future grave. Or maybe he hadn’t been aware of it, because he was so wonderfully distracted by Kate.

  It would take them another two or three days to reach London, depending on the weather. He glanced up to see a sky dappled with fluffy, grayish-white clouds that could easily collapse into rain later in the day. Either way, the journey would end before he wanted it to—and he knew it was because he would miss her.

  She might be furious with him now, but would she feel that way if she didn’t care for him the way he’d come to care for her? Surely not! When making love to her last night, he’d seen something in her eyes…felt something in her movements beneath him…heard something in her voice as she whispered his name while sliding her arms so sinuously around his shoulders as she tried to bring him closer to her.

  That something was the same something he felt now.

  That something was love.

  He could declare himself to her at their next stop. But first, he should apologize for offending her, even though he wasn’t sure how he’d offended—unless she’d expected him to propose marriage last night. While the notion had certainly drifted through his head in the warm, dizzying afterglow, he hadn’t felt right bringing it up when they were both naked. It would have seemed as if he was proposing simply because of that, when Nathan knew now that he really wanted to marry her for a multitude of other reasons, not least of which was the conviction that he simply couldn’t imagine his life without Katherine Baxter, the self-proclaimed least likely bride of a duke, to share it with him.

  They had several more days. He knew he could get back into her good graces again. First, the apology. Then the explanation. At that point, perhaps she’d consent to him riding in the carriage with her and they could talk some more, about what they felt for each other and the kind of future they both wanted.

  Nathan knew the future he wanted included Kate. He only hoped she would agree.

  They arrived in Derby at midday, where they stopped at a large coaching inn. Nathan swiftly dismounted and made sure to be right there when the carriage door swung open and Kate stepped out.

  She was about to emerge when she stopped short at the sight of him, and for a fleeting moment he thought she looked as if she might retreat back into the carriage like a frightened turtle into its shell.

  Tell her now! Alas, there were too many coachmen and grooms and ostlers and horses and dogs and geese running and flapping about. The atmosphere was noisy and chaotic, especially since several other carriages crowded into the inn yard. It wouldn’t do to shout an apology to her. He decided to start by holding out his hand to her.

  His heart drifted up a notch as he noted that at least she didn’t look as thunderous as she had this morning. Instead she peered back at him contemplatively, as if weighing the risks versus the benefits of taking his hand and allowing him to assist her out of the carriage.

  Finally, she took his hand, and he helped her out as she glanced
away again, though she did offer a mumbled—but thank the gods, not grumbled—thanks.

  He smiled to himself. He was making progress.

  “Katherine!”

  He wasn’t the one who said that, but the sound of her full name seemed to turn him into the proverbial pillar of salt, for he stood frozen.

  She, on the other hand, naturally spun around at the sound of her name, and to his astonishment she gasped, “Mother!”

  For the life of him Nathan could not force any sound out of his still gaping mouth, nor could he budge his seemingly locked jaw or any other part of himself. All he could do was stand there thunderstruck as Kate lifted her skirts and scurried across the crowded inn yard to an older woman who stood next to a mud-splattered carriage.

  Nathan watched as they embraced and spoke rapidly, both at the same time, leaving him to wonder how either could understand a word the other was saying. The two of them finally turned and came toward Nathan, Kate holding her mother by the arm, her expression inscrutable behind her spectacles. As they approached, Nathan could easily discern a resemblance between the two women. Lady Bellingham was like an older, more haggard version of her daughter, just as thin, though without any apparent need for spectacles.

  “Your Grace, you remember my mother, the Countess of Bellingham, when you spent that single night with us last summer.” She glanced at her mother. “The duke very kindly agreed to escort me this far from Ellington Hall, whence I might find a seat on the stage to London.”

  Nathan was so stunned by this turn of events that he almost forgot to bow or even say something, though he was aware his mouth still hung open like a broken drawbridge. He quickly snapped his head forward and mumbled—taking great care not to grumble—“I’m delighted to meet you again, my lady.”

  “How do you do, Your Grace?” Her voice was as cool and crisp as her daughter’s. “We’re much obliged to you. ’Twas most kind of Lord Ellington to lend his carriage, and of Your Grace to escort her this far, but I shall not hear of her boarding a stage at this point. Not when I have my own carriage over here!”

  “Thank you, Your Grace, for everything,” Kate said with great emphasis on everything, though under the circumstances it was impossible for Nathan to tell if that was a good or bad thing. Certainly such emphasis had to include the events of last night, and if she was thanking him for that, then surely that was a scrap to the dog, however meager. Still…

  She turned and hastened over to the other carriage as if she couldn’t wait to leave with her mother, who remained only long enough to say, “Do give Lord Ellington my regards and thanks for your trouble in looking after my daughter, Your Grace.”

  “No trouble at all,” he said, and he meant it with all his heart.

  She bobbed a curtsey and turned to follow her daughter.

  He’d wanted to apologize to Kate for last night. He thought he’d broken her heart, and he longed to apologize and explain his actions, or lack of them. But did it really matter now? Was her heart truly broken? She’d thanked him for everything.

  Yet she didn’t even say good-bye.

  Perhaps he’d misinterpreted her fit of pique as she stormed out of his bedchamber last night. Either way, the fact remained that she didn’t seem at all bereft to be parted from him as he suddenly was from her. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought she was relieved to be free of him—as if he’d been holding her captive all this time.

  But he knew now it was the other way around. And she still held him captive. As her mother’s carriage rumbled out of the inn yard and onto the main road leading south to London, he had the strange sense that Kate wasn’t the only thing it was taking away from him—it was taking away his heart.

  That’s when he felt the ominously cold, shivery shudder he’d been dreading at some point on this journey.

  Now was not the time to pursue her. The horses needed a rest, as did the coachman, groom, and Bilby, and they, like Nathan, were surely famished. The Ellington carriage was bigger, and unlike Lady Bellingham’s conveyance, it was drawn by four horses to her two. Moreover, he didn’t really need the carriage except for his own baggage. He could always get a fresh mount and gallop after them and let Bilby and the others catch up, or even put Bilby and the baggage on the next stage.

  He still had a chance to recover his heart—and most importantly, his heart’s desire.

  At that moment, several men on horseback entered the inn yard from the opposite direction. One of them Nathan recognized immediately, yet he did not feel so much as a scintilla of surprise. He’d been halfway expecting this and had even worried Waldrop might do what Nathan himself had just been contemplating.

  For that reason alone, he would have to do whatever he could to either keep Waldrop from going any farther—or persuade him to turn back. It was just as well Kate had gone with her mother, however painfully it twisted his heart.

  Nathan stepped back as Waldrop practically rode his mount into him, drawing rein at the very last moment. Waldrop remained in the saddle, undoubtedly because it was the only way he could be taller than Nathan, and it allowed him the added advantage of being able to glare down on him with his one good eye. A dark-purplish bruise marred his cheek and shadowed his other eye. His henchmen, meanwhile, circled their horses around Nathan, effectively hemming him in.

  Bilby and the Ellington servants had already gone in to eat, so they could be of no aid to him. He had his pistol inside his coat, but he knew Waldrop and his companions had pistols, too, as well as the advantage of being high in their saddles.

  “Where is she, Loring?”

  Being addressed by the title he’d inherited and still wasn’t accustomed to gave Nathan a moment’s pause, which allowed him to act mystified. “Who?”

  “The Baxter chit. Her stepfather owes five thousand pounds, and he put her up as collateral in the event he did not pay his debt within a specified time that has since elapsed. Bellingham never did manage to raise the money—but then, how could he, while rusticating in the wilds of Yorkshire? When he came to Lord Gorham’s shooting party a fortnight ago, he was actually hoping to raise the funds then, in his usual irresponsible manner. He failed.” Waldrop reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sheaf of paper, which he held out to Nathan for his perusal. “Make the slightest attempt to rip it in half, and you run the risk of spooking our horses and worse, for my men all have pistols at the ready.”

  Nathan swiftly scanned the document, complete with Lord Bellingham’s seal. The bastard had indeed offered up his own stepdaughter as collateral if he failed to pay back the five thousand pounds by a certain date, which happened to be just last week.

  But it was to whom Lord Bellingham owed the money that caused Nathan’s heart to almost stop cold in his chest.

  He speared Waldrop with a sharp glare, and Waldrop only sneered back as he finally dismounted. “Now perhaps Your Grace and I can come to some sort of agreement. Either I collect my five thousand pounds, or I’ll find the Baxter chit and put her to work for my stepmother, who is always in need of a lady’s companion. Frankly, I’d prefer the five thousand pounds. I’ve been rolled up since your half brother’s death last year and can’t afford my stepmother’s debts. She’s on the verge of fleeing to the Continent like Sir Niles Barnett, who’s in the same basket and is already making ready to leave. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bellingham joined him.”

  Nathan tsked, unable to muster a mote of sympathy for any of these reprobates, especially Waldrop, who had been one of the rakes who’d laughingly abandoned an eight-year-old boy in the woods twenty years ago before winning his mother from his half brother in another game of cards.

  “Either pay me now, or tell me where to find her,” Waldrop said coldly.

  Nathan wasn’t about to do the latter. He would have to do whatever was necessary to delay Waldrop and keep him from continuing on the road south, where he was sure to catch up with Kate and her mother.

  So he said, “Let’s go into the posting house and dis
cuss it over whisky and cards. I’ll buy.”

  Of course he meant he was only buying drinks.

  * * * *

  “What luck!” Kate’s mother exclaimed. “Would you believe your portmanteau was at that coaching inn? No doubt because it’s such a large coaching inn, being Derby. I told them it was my daughter’s and had them strap it into the boot. However did it get this far without you? Never mind, it was probably loaded onto the wrong stage. How long have you been wearing just the clothes on your back?”

  Kate was almost too shocked by what had just transpired to absorb her mother’s words and thus respond to them.

  “Katherine? What’s the matter? You don’t seem at all pleased. Did I foil some secret, scandalous plans you had?”

  Say something, anything, to placate her. “Susannah very kindly gave me some of her old frocks to wear until I reached London. And no, I had no secret, scandalous plans at all—unless you think there’s something secret and scandalous about going to London to stay with Anthony and Georgiana.”

  “Obviously you were trying to be secretive about it, or you would have notified me as to your intentions.” Her mother sounded not a little aggrieved.

  Irritation gripped Kate. “I believe I did, only a thousand and one times. But you wouldn’t hear of it. No, the only journey I could be trusted to make was to York and a governess position.”

  “What you stated a thousand and one times wasn’t an intention, but a desire.”

  “Very well, but I always intended to do it, even if I couldn’t very well say it.”

  “Precisely. As I said, you were secretive about your intention.” Now Mother sounded very pleased with herself for having pointed that out, much to Kate’s annoyance. “Besides, you wouldn’t have been governess for long. Mr. Throckmorton was keen to find a new wife, but he couldn’t very well advertise for that. I thought it was the perfect situation for you, since you didn’t seem likely to marry otherwise, especially since you had no dowry.”