The Heart of a Duke

by Victoria Morgan

  He was charming and witty, her Beautiful Bedford. “Now that will be a true misfortune, for it would be twofold, being an attack on both your pride and your purse.”

  Edmund laughed. “Too true.”

  At the sound of his laughter, heads turned their way. Like Janus, everyone had too many eyes and they all were locked on her. Since her engagement, a hum of voices followed her, like a tune the orchestra played upon her entrance. It was always the same melody, with the same snippets of gossip. Thus Julia was able to ignore their audience.

  At the refreshment table, sterling silver trays were loaded with crystal goblets, and in the center of the table sat an enormous crystal bowl of ruby-colored punch. Sundry fruits bobbed like buoys over its surface.

  Edmund filled a glass, handing it to her. “Alas there is no liquor in it, but I am sure we will have no need of it this evening.” His eyes dipped to hers and lingered as he sipped.

  Her hopes climbed as well, the bats in her stomach having settled and the annoying commentary silenced. She sipped her punch. “You were in Italy last spring, were you not?”

  “I was. With the exception of Janus, this trip was more wine tasting than the pursuit of Roman antiquities. Tuscan vineyards have the finest wines in the world. I find them superior to the French, which is a grave insult to them. All the more reason to voice my opinion of this whenever I can.” He grinned, unabashed, and swept a stray tendril of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “I look forward to visiting some of the vineyards with you. We could go to Montepulciano.” The Italian pronunciation of the town rolled effortlessly off his tongue.

  The punch must have alcohol in it, for her head spun. Italy. She had always wanted to travel.

  He looped her arm through his and escorted her deeper into the room. “Would you like to visit Italy? Amble through the vineyards, drinking wine, sitting at outdoor cafes and following in the footsteps of Caesar and Augustus.”

  She had to moisten her lips before she could respond, for she was salivating at the picture he painted. “It sounds lovely.” And relaxing. She would like to relax, to have no responsibilities.

  But who would oversee the estate?

  The voice had returned, but she refused to heed it. She would enjoy this lovely Italian fantasy for one damn minute.

  But there are so many issues that need to be addressed. Again the voice. Well, she would be drinking in Italy, so someone else would have to address them. She could not be expected to handle everything all the time.

  She stopped and withdrew her arm to face Edmund. “You are able to get away again so soon after your return?” She kept her voice light.

  Edmund winked at her. “That is the benefit of being a duke. I can do what I want, when I want. My dear Julia, I am well aware of how much you have had to handle over the past few years. It is past time you joined me in doing what you want. Don’t you think you have earned a much-deserved trip abroad? Or rather honeymoon?” He smiled into her eyes.

  A honeymoon. Yes, she certainly deserved that. And he was right; she had earned it after the past five years. She had a lot of drinking in vineyards and ambling in Roman ruins to do to make up for those lost years. “I do,” she laughed. “I will speak to Father, see when he can best handle matters without my . . .” Edmund’s laughter interrupted her. “What is so amusing?”

  He shook his head. “This will not do.”

  “What will not do?” She stared at him baffled.

  “This.” His finger drew a whisper-soft line along her forehead, laughing when her eyes rose as if she could follow his touch. “Your brow is furrowed. It is my responsibility as your future husband to erase these lines to ensure that your beautiful skin is not so marred.” His arm dropped. “The last few years have given you cause to worry. Let me speak to your father. I have never allowed for business to bother any beautiful woman, so I assure you that I am not going to allow it to distress my own wife.”

  Was he being patronizing or kind? She was surprised at how desperately she wanted to believe it was the latter.

  “Perhaps you are right, and I have been used to handling everything myself.” Hadn’t Daniel said she needed a faithful squire? She took a sip of the punch and managed a smile. “A honeymoon in Italy sounds wonderful.”

  “I am glad we agree. Let us hope this is the first time of many.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but a gentleman begged their pardon, requesting a brief word with Edmund. She frowned as she noted the beads of sweat lining the man’s brow, and the look of quiet desperation clouding his dark eyes.

  “In a minute, Richards.”

  “Of course.” Richards dipped his head and quickly retreated.

  Edmund gave her an apologetic look. “Poor Richards. I won a trinket from him in a game of cards and he seeks to redeem it.”

  “Nothing too valuable I hope?”

  “I found it a rather vulgar piece, but apparently it is a prized family heirloom that was to go to his fiancée,” he explained.

  “Oh dear. Perhaps he can offer you another item in fair exchange for it?”

  “Oh, I think not,” Edmund drawled, looking amused. “He is old enough to pay the price for his follies, and the ring should bring a pretty penny. Besides, I am doing him a favor. The girl’s a horsey-mouthed thing and her father is in trade. Richards believes himself in love, but I know better.” His eyes swept the room, oblivious to her sharp intake of breath. His smile faded. “I do not see your sister. Perhaps you should find out where she is?”

  “Emily?” Something cold curdled in her stomach.

  “Come now, Julia.” His voice lowered with an edge of strained patience. “We do not want a repeat performance of the last time she was here. Her gliding about like mad Ophelia, collecting flowers from the centerpieces to place on dear Jason’s grave. You must understand that could be damaging to both of us.”

  “No, we cannot have that,” she murmured, the blood draining from her head. It might tarnish his esteemed stature to have his fiancée’s family tainted with a strain of madness. The punch of pain stole her breath.

  Not Emily. Skewering Richards’s poor homely fiancée was in poor taste. But Emily, maligning Emily was . . . unforgivable.

  “I am glad you understand.” His smile returned, and with a finger beneath her punch glass, he prodded it toward her. “Drink, it will relax you.” And with a stiff bow, he was gone.

  She took a fortifying sip of her punch, needing a minute to collect herself. Edmund had always greeted Emily and dismissed her in much the same manner as he did Jonathan. It had never occurred to Julia that he might harbor the superstition that Emily could contaminate him. As if her debilitating grief was a disease he could catch.

  Julia’s unease was twofold, for she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could never presume to voice her concerns over his estate management. From their short exchange, His Grace had made it clear he did not want her worrying her pretty little head over business matters. She pressed an unsteady hand to her temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

  “Lady Julia, it is lovely to see you. We missed you at Lord Collins’s.”

  Julia turned to see Lady Miranda Matthews and her sister Lily. She had shared her first season with Miranda, who was married and a mother now. Julia believed Lily had come out two years ago.

  After greeting them, she addressed Miranda. “Excuse me, Lord Collins’s?”

  She did not miss the look Miranda passed her sister before giving her reply. “The hunting party in Kent. Edmund said you were busy with family concerns and could not make the trip.”

  Mmh. How kind of Edmund to make her excuses despite her never having given any, not having been invited in the first place. He should have told them the truth, that she was busy assisting his disgruntled tenants. Her smile was brittle. “Yes, well, family does come first.”

  “I understand,” Miranda said. “You did not miss a thing. Just the usual barking hounds, fast foxes, and red-coated riders. Lily?”


  “If you forgot anything, it is captured in the ubiquitous hunting portraits that are mandatory in every Englishman’s study or library.”

  Grateful for the reprieve from her conflicted thoughts, Julia grinned. “I do believe that is by royal decree. As my father has heeded that requirement, I have not missed much.”

  “What did you not miss?”

  Lady Jessica Stevens had joined them. Julia was not on familiar terms with her.

  “We were catching Lady Julia up on Collins’s hunting party. She could not attend due to family obligations.”

  “Mmh, yes. Well, you need not worry over Bedford. I assure you, he was quite well taken care of. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

  Julia nearly gasped at the insinuation, but Miranda appeared as horrified as she and was quick to respond.

  “As you well know, Jessica, being as you are so accomplished at it, many women can flirt, but Edmund made it clear tonight and at Collins’s that he only has eyes for Lady Julia.” She faced Julia, a teasing light warming her eyes. “And what were you discussing so intently? Do tell. He appeared as if he could not take his eyes off of you, which is no surprise, for you look lovely. Your gown is exquisite.”

  “Thank you,” Julia said, grateful for Miranda’s rescue. She still had some friends.

  The gown had been another of Emily’s recommendations. She had said the rose tint made her skin look peaches and cream soft. Naked is what came to Julia’s mind when she saw its plunging décolletage. It was little wonder Edmund couldn’t peel his eyes from her.

  She paused at the brazen thought, but she was no longer an innocent debutante. Being older and wiser had its benefits. She smiled brightly at Jessica. “We were discussing our honeymoon. Edmund insists on Italy, and I quite agree with him. After all, they have long, lovely siestas with nothing to do but relax and rest all afternoon, which is what we intend to do when we are not engaged in other . . . activities.” She gave Jessica a deliberate look, but hoped to escape before her burning cheeks betrayed her. “Now if you will excuse me, I must find my sister. I fear she has disappeared.”

  “I saw her heading onto the balcony with Lady Collins,” Lily supplied.

  “Thank you.” Julia dipped into a curtsy, deposited her drink with a passing waiter, and with purposeful strides headed out the French doors before anyone could waylay her. She sought refuge in an empty alcove at the far end of the balcony. She would look for Emily in a minute. She needed to cool her rising ire at Jessica’s comments.

  It was early evening. The daylight was fading, the moon just climbing as the sun finished its languid descent. A gentle breeze brushed over her, and she curled her arms around her waist.

  Was Miranda right and it had been innocent flirting? She did not know. She had never been good at deciphering the games women played to undermine one another. That was popular at London gatherings, and the complexities and subtle undercurrents had always eluded Julia.

  If she married Edmund, would she be expected to engage in such skirmishes? Again, she did not know. What she did not know was adding up. She no longer knew what to expect from Edmund or, more important, what he expected of her as his wife, except to keep her mad sister hidden and to be beautiful. The throbbing in her temple increased.

  She had never felt beautiful. Until Daniel. But he made her feel more than that. When she was with him, she was clever and smart. Someone who could run an estate and build a house. Much better than beautiful.

  She blew out a frustrated breath, for she was in deep trouble.

  And Daniel could not assist her, for he was the very man responsible.

  Chapter Twelve

  THERE you are.”

  She jumped at the amused voice, whirling to see that Edmund had stolen upon her. Her heart thundered, for bathed in the glow of moonlight, he looked like one of the Roman statues he collected—tall, godlike, and regal. She couldn’t blame women for flirting with him. He was heart-stopping handsome with those mesmerizing eyes and dashing smile.

  Like his brother.

  Except for his comment on Emily, and his dismissal of poor Richards’s family heirloom and horsey fiancée, and his flirting . . .

  “So where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  “You were taking me to Italy for our honeymoon.” She valiantly plastered a bright smile on her face, desperate to salvage the evening.

  “So I was.” His teeth flashed white in the waning evening light. “And we were to visit vineyards and drink wine and enjoy the long, languid siestas.”

  His reply echoed hers to Jessica. Had he overheard her? “Yes, and not worry ourselves with any estate matters.”

  “You learn quickly. We should get along beautifully.” He paused, a pensive look crossing his features. “Julia, it has come to my attention that a few of my tenants have voiced complaints to you, and you have spent time in my brother’s company. While I do not approve of either, I need to advise you that contrary to whatever my brother has told you, he has never run an estate before, and I do not intend to let him start practicing with the running of mine.”

  “Of course not. He would never presume to do so.” He did not use Daniel’s name. She wondered if he found runt too undignified to repeat in mixed company.

  Why did he hate Daniel so much, and if Daniel was to be believed, at so young an age?

  “However, to allay concerns my brother stoked, you should know that times are changing. Disgruntled tenants will be a thing of the past, because I intend to replace them with seasonal laborers at lower wages. The estate profits from this—and thus, so do we.” He softened his tone. “Bedfords have been on this land for generations and will continue on it for generations to come. So we are free to escape to Italy and concentrate on more important matters, like starting that next generation.” He smiled at her. “Do you understand?”

  “I am beginning to,” she murmured, her heart pained as she thought of Mabry and Just Bea, and the fate of so many other families dependent upon the munificence of Bedford Hall.

  Edmund smiled. “I am so glad. Now, the evening is still young. And there is another thing I understand. The most important matter, and one which you have forgotten.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  He laughed. “That we are bathed in a soft glow of moonlight on a lovely, balmy evening. I am in the company of a beautiful woman, who is soon to be my wife, and there is a hint of something wonderfully seductive drifting in the air.”

  “What is it? I do not smell hints of anything drifting.” Puzzled, she struggled to focus. Edmund’s callous dismissal of his tenants and all responsibility toward them still had her distracted.

  So much for her powers of persuasion. Extracting a kiss was one thing, but getting a duke to dip his haughty chin low enough for him to see those beneath him was another matter altogether.

  She now understood why the twins were never close. They were like parallel lines that would never, ever come together.

  Edmund’s laughter snapped her out of her thoughts. It was a deep rumble and combined with the look in his heavy-lidded eyes, she found herself backing away.

  She recognized that sultry look. It was a mirror image of his brother’s. He was going to kiss her. In place of a racing pulse, her skittish nerves returned. She had waited forever for this moment. It could not be happening now. Not when she was so upset and conflicted her stomach was balled in knots, and she was desperate for him to understand things that she feared he could not, or worse, would not.

  He stepped forward and slipped his arms around her waist, oblivious to her turmoil. “Good lord, when you walked in here in that dress, looking so delectable, it’s been all I could do to keep my hands off of you.”

  She swallowed as Edmund’s head lowered. The hard press of his body against hers was discomfiting, like a poorly tailored frock. She resisted the urge to slip her arms between them when his eyes lowered to the swells of her breasts. She tamped her nerves down. He was her betrothed, even if he coul
d be arrogant, obtuse, and so very charming. An aching pain pulsated in her chest.

  She had no choice . . . even if she wished it otherwise.

  She struggled to relax as she braced herself for the press of his mouth against hers. He had a right to the intimacy, but a voice deep in the chambers of her heart cried out in protest. Unwittingly, she found herself heeding the cry and tipping her head away from his as if she could avoid the inevitable. As if she could avoid him.

  The touch never came.

  A guttural throat clearing interrupted them.

  Edmund straightened so abruptly that she staggered back a step, stunned at the relief that surged through her.

  “My apologies, Your Grace.”

  She couldn’t identify the dark-haired gentleman hastily stepping back, but she recognized the shimmering turquoise gown of the woman accompanying him. Jessica.

  “I always am interrupting you at the most inopportune moments. While the alley at the fall festival was a more public venue, this one is not, so I have no excuse for my intrusion. Forgive me. Maybe it’s my exits I should work on. At least at the fair, I slipped away unnoticed, but then you were in a far more compromising situation then.”

  “Lud, Brimston, you never know when to quit chattering on,” Jessica hissed. “They are not interested in apologies or company. Forgive us and Brimston, in particular, for being a blind idiot.” She dipped into a brief curtsy and dragged her companion away.

  The silence that fell was heavy with recriminations. The blood drained from Julia’s face. Her heart pounded, like an orchestra in full concert, blasting out an operatic tragedy of epic proportions.

  “Again? The festival? Compromising situation?” Edmund repeated, his voice so frigid, it could freeze water.

  “Edmund, let me explain . . .” She cursed the sound of her desperation, the tremors seizing her.

  “Please do. I never deigned to make an appearance at the fair. Apparently you did and found it far more pleasurable than I ever could have imagined.”

  “No,” she gasped at the insinuation, recoiling. “Please, you misunderstand.”