The Heart of a Duke

by Victoria Morgan

  “You sound like Daniel,” Brett commented. “Always making lists and agendas.”

  Surprised, she glanced at Daniel. “Yes, well, much is at stake.”

  “We will find who is behind these attacks on Daniel,” Brett said, conviction in his tone. “And learn what Bedford wants. How can we fail now that you are assisting us?”

  “Damn right we, ah . . . I mean, right, we will find him,” Robbie echoed, abashed.

  “Then you will have to marry me because why bother saving me if I have decided I cannot live without you.” Daniel beamed.

  “I will consider it,” she said, unable to resist a smile at his expression of boyish hope. But I need you to love me. She dropped her gaze.

  “You better accept him,” Robbie grumbled. “Because if I have to listen to him go on about—”

  “Don’t you have more gambling hells to visit? And take Brett with you. We will meet with Shaw’s partners tomorrow.”

  With a sigh, Brett uncrossed his arms and rose to his feet. “My presence is no longer needed. Lady Julia, it has been a pleasure. If you marry Daniel, you can help us run Curtis Shipping.”

  “Daniel has already offered me a job.” She grinned.

  “Of course he did. He has good business sense, nor can I argue with his choice of a wife, if you will have him.” Brett dipped his head. “I was hoping to see your lovely sister before I leave, but alas, I shall have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “She usually is up, but today she is having a lying in,” Julia said, intrigued by his query. Was he interested in Emily?

  She followed Robbie and Brett to the door, seeing them both out, the awareness of Daniel behind her almost tangible.

  When Burke closed the door, Daniel grabbed her by the hand and tugged her into the drawing room. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  She freed herself and stepped away. “They are devoted to you, you are fortunate to have such wonderful friends.”

  “I am. But I am far more fortunate now that I have you to myself.”

  She shook her head regretfully. “I promised Jonathan I would take him to the British Museum. I was hoping to see the Elgin Marbles.”

  “From the Parthenon? News about those reached Boston. Elgin first pilfered them, then our government recently purchased them, and now they are displayed at Montagu House. Now that is very clever negotiating. I would love to see them.”

  She frowned. “It is my understanding that Elgin was exonerated. And . . .” She paused. “You want to go to the museum with my family?”

  He dipped his head, his eyes warm. “It is my desire to go where you are going.”

  The pleasure of his words was abruptly drowned out by a gnawing, pulsating fear. “What about . . . I don’t know if . . .”

  “I will not hide,” he cut her off, his eyes hard. Seeing her stricken expression, he gentled his tone. “I will be fine. You do not need to worry. They will not attack me in broad daylight in Bloomsbury. And I will watch my back, even though I much prefer watching yours.”

  She tossed him a chastising look and managed a nod. “I suppose you are right. I have never seen any green-eyed Cyclopes in Bloomsbury.”

  “No, they much prefer to skulk about the docks.”

  His teasing smile was so sweet, it nearly broke her heart. “All right. Jonathan will be delighted to have your company, as will I.”

  “Thank you.”

  She wanted to keep him here. To lock him in Keaton House and never let him out. To keep him safe. But she had to let him go.

  He was not hers to keep. Yet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ON his way to the front foyer the following morning, Daniel overheard Brett’s voice. Did the man have to be so bloody punctual? Fine for business meetings, but it put a damper on his seducing Julia. There were far too many people around as it was. Family, friends, servants. It was a problem. With Julia so devoted to her family, it was difficult to separate her from them during their visit to the museum, but damned if the Chandlers weren’t growing on him.

  Planted in the middle of their tight-knit group, it was inevitable that like vines, he would become entangled with them. More surprising was that they were filling in places he had never realized were empty.

  How could one resist a five-year-old warmonger, the brusque, “hmphing” Taunton, and Emily with her clandestine assistance in his pursuit of Julia?

  He had believed his freedom from family bonds a gift. The Chandlers had taught him otherwise. What his family had given him, with the exception of a love of the land, was a gaping hole of loneliness that he had filled with makeshift families. First with Robbie’s, then Brett’s, and now Julia’s. That is, if she would have him.

  She had to marry him. His mind was made up. He refused to sit by and watch a wave of scandal wash over her family, not when he had come to think of them of his own. He could not stem the full flood, but he could prevent it from drowning them. There could be no ruination if Julia was protected under the bonds of wedlock.

  Why wouldn’t she say yes?

  It did not matter. He would simply have to change her mind. To be more persistent in convincing her. Perhaps court her more gently, rather than insisting she marry him. He had learned from Brett, who with three sisters was more familiar with the minds of women, that women did not like to be told to do anything. It ruffled their feathers. After meeting with Shaw’s partners, he would dispense with Brett, figure out a way to get Julia alone, and court the stubborn woman.

  Looking forward to this plan, he continued into the foyer, where he found Brett conversing with Emily.

  Seeing Daniel, Brett grinned. “Lady Emily is wondering when I will be returning to America. I assured her that I would not overstay my welcome, but I have a few more matters to take care of before she will see the last of me.”

  “I did not mean it in quite that manner.” Emily looked abashed.

  “Then I have not overstayed my welcome and can stay longer?”

  She flushed at Brett’s obvious pleasure. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like. It is none of my concern. I just wondered how your company can manage with both of its owners here.”

  “While I am indispensible, and Daniel is somewhat of a necessity,” he said, ignoring Daniel’s snort, “we do have capable managers in Boston. I trust they can handle most matters until my return.”

  “As I said, it is not my concern. In fact, I understand your business is with Daniel and Julia, so if you will excuse me, I will see if my sister is ready.” She nodded to Daniel, and then left them alone.

  “What was that all about?” Daniel asked.

  “I am not sure.” Brett sounded bemused. “For some reason, I believe Lady Emily has taken a dislike to me. Very strange. Women like me. They adore me. I should know. I have three sisters who tell me so.”

  “Please, spare me your sisters. It just confirms what I thought about Emily.”

  “What is that?”

  “She is an astute judge of character. Very perceptive. She did not like Edmund either.”

  “Mmh,” Brett mused. Then he shook his head. “No, that is not it. Can’t be. Everybody loves me. Must be something else.” He furrowed his brow.

  “You are in England now. The women here are more refined. Not all of them are going to fall simpering at your feet, like . . .” His words trailed off at Brett’s black expression.

  “You have been back just over a fortnight, and you are already sounding like a useless aristocrat. It is the titles. Give a man a title, start calling him lord, and suddenly everyone else is beneath him. If you keep your head tilted at that haughty angle, you will get a crick in your neck.”

  He pricked wounds that still festered, so he was quick to concede the point. “I will keep that in mind.”

  “You do that, Bryant,” Brett said, deliberately dropping the title. “How are things progressing with Julia? She say yes yet?” At Daniel’s glum expression, Brett relaxed. “Looks like Emily is not the only Chandler who is an astut
e judge of character.”

  “I have only had the one night since you left,” he protested.

  “One night to do what?”

  Daniel turned to see Julia walking toward them. The empire gown was like a lovely green cloud, the material some soft gauzy thing, with lace crisscrossing the bodice and cinching her waist. Her hair was neatly tucked up in a chignon, emerald ribbons snaking through the curling mass. He dismissed Brett, having eyes only for Julia. “To do nothing but pine for you, of course.”

  “Clever.” She turned to greet Brett. “Mr. Curtis, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  He dipped his head. “Lady Julia. You are a lovely sight to brighten a man’s day.”

  “Thank you.” Julia smiled.

  “Time to go,” Daniel interceded, stepping between them, grasping Julia’s hand and looping it through his.

  “Daniel, stop. I need to get my frock and bonnet.” She withdrew her arm and met Burke, who stepped forward, items in hand.

  Daniel snatched Julia’s coat from Burke, whose eyebrows arched at his uncouth manners. He held it up for Julia, who gave him a chastising look before slipping her arms into the jacket. As she closed it securely around her, buttoning it up, he wondered if one could be jealous of a garment, but then seeing Brett’s silent laughter, he turned away and accepted his redingote from Burke.

  “Shall we go?” Julia said, tying the ribbons to her bonnet, her gloves clasped in hand.

  “Yes, after you,” Brett said. As Burke opened the door for Julia and she stepped outside, Brett wryly addressed Daniel. “It is no wonder she has yet to accept your hand. You are behaving like an idiot. Jealousy doesn’t become you.” He followed Julia outside.

  “Jealous?” He snorted. “Of Curtis? That’s absurd.”

  “Quite right, sir,” Burke intoned, but Daniel caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes before he schooled his expression.

  Burke’s reaction confirmed Daniel’s earlier opinion—there were too many damn people around for a man to conduct a proper courtship. Frowning, he hurried outside to catch up to Julia before she further eluded him.

  THE OFFICES OF Messrs. Shaw, Dodges, and Fuller, located in the vicinity of Gray’s Inn, occupied the second and third floor of Harcourt House. It was an imposing structure with Corinthian pillars lining the front entrance. Heavy gilded-frame oil portraits of past and present partners loomed over the dark paneled waiting room, as if guarding the legal reverence of the atmosphere.

  Daniel was relieved not to be met by the same clerk who had attended Robbie and himself on their first visit to the offices. The young man who greeted them was less distracted and more amicable. Daniel wondered if it had anything to do with the dazzling smile Julia had flashed him—or he didn’t recognize Daniel with his bruised face, which he eyed warily.

  “My apologies, but my father, the Earl of Taunton, had asked if I might assist his secretary in picking up some papers for him while I was in town,” Julia glibly lied, her expression both apologetic and embarrassed.

  She waved a hand in Brett’s direction, who gave a low bow. “He is new to my father’s employ, and as my father did not have time to send word around that Mr. Curtis would be coming, he thought it best I accompany him to make the introductions. Once I do so, I will of course leave the business matters to you gentlemen. I do apologize if this is an inconvenience. However, he insisted Mr. Curtis speak to Dodges or Fuller himself, if that is at all possible. And of course, I have his card.” She withdrew it from her reticule and handed it to the clerk.

  Daniel recalled Julia had handled all her father’s business for a short period; possession of her father’s card was trivial in comparison.

  “No, no problem at all. Delighted to be of service to the earl.” The clerk bowed, his ginger head bobbing up and down like a pecking bird.

  “Oh, lovely. Again, my father, the earl, would be so appreciative.” Julia lifted her hands and pressed them together, as if she would applaud his assistance.

  Down the head bobbed, and he pushed his spectacles up his nose as they threatened to slide off.

  “Why don’t you see if Dodges or Fuller are available?” Daniel interceded, having enough of the man’s obsequious behavior. He stifled his grunt when Julia’s elbow jabbed into his gut.

  “No, rush, Mr. . . . ?” Julia flashed her blinding smile again.

  “Tait, Mr. Tait.” The man nodded. “If you would care to have a seat,” he gestured to the waiting room. “I shall see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” Julia said. When they were alone, she turned on Daniel. “You cannot rush these things. We want his assistance, do we not?”

  “I did not want him to get a crick in his neck from all his head bobbing,” Daniel said, unable to resist exchanging an amused look with Brett.

  “It will be worth the pain, if he can be of assistance to the Earl of Taunton’s daughter,” Brett intoned. “How many times did you mention my father, the earl? Cleverly done.”

  Julia cringed. “I know I sounded like a haughty aristocrat, but I feared a repeat of Daniel’s last visit. The clerk might dismiss the request of a mere lord, but he wouldn’t dare to do so with those of an earl.”

  Brett laughed. “Understood.”

  Julia settled on the settee, and Brett into one of the chairs, but Daniel found himself, as usual, unable to sit. His penchant was to pace, and he did so now as they waited. In a surprisingly short time, another man came forward to greet them. From his carriage, Daniel surmised this to be one of the partners, Fuller or Dodge.

  He stood in the upright stance common among short men when they want to appear taller than they are. His thick head of hair was snow white. He started toward them, but paused, his bushy eyebrows arching as his gaze settled not on Julia, but on Daniel. After the hesitation, he continued and stopped before Daniel, bowing deeply. “Your Grace,” he said. “I was not informed that you were here. I was told my business was with Taunton’s new secretary. However, I hope I can be of more assistance to you than I was able to provide on your prior visit.”

  Daniel opened his mouth to correct the man, but Brett shot to his feet and intervened before Daniel could reply, positioning himself between Daniel and the partner.

  “Excuse me, but I work with His Grace. Brett Curtis, at your service.” He bowed low. “It was the Earl of Taunton who encouraged us to return. He was hoping you could review what you told His Grace on his prior visit, as he was not clear on everything discussed.” Brett leaned toward the man, his tone rueful. “My apologies, but details tend to elude him. Is that not right, Your Grace?” Brett raised his voice and faced Daniel, his back to the partner, his sharp blue eyes narrowed in warning.

  His Grace? Not clear on matters discussed? Details eluded him? Daniel struggled with his smile. He did not know the repercussions for impersonating his brother, if indeed there were any, but he figured it was suitable revenge. After all, Edmund had impersonated him not once, but twice, and had tossed his rooms with impunity. “Yes, that is correct. If you could repeat to my man what you said to me, it would be most helpful.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He gave Daniel a curious look, eyeing his bruised face as if that explained the memory loss, before he veiled his features into polite understanding. “I explained to His Grace that we no longer have charge of the late Mr. Shaw’s papers. Shaw has not been in practice for nearly a decade, and most of his effects were cleared out long ago. His retirement coincided with the late duke’s passing.

  “I further explained that Shaw never mentioned any important papers or outstanding items in regard to the late duke’s estate. I know His Grace was agitated by this, so I regret that we could not be of more assistance.” He looked regretful. “However, I believe if there was anything outstanding of import, it would have come to light in these ten years past.

  “The only thing I can add is that when Shaw died three months ago, we did execute his last will and testament. It settled everything on his eldest son, with sundry trinkets and m
onies going to the two younger sons. So as you can understand,” he spread his hands in a helpless gesture, “I fear we were of little help to His Grace.”

  “And when—” he began.

  “And when was it that His Grace stopped by?” Brett cut him off once more. “Again, he has difficulty with dates as well.”

  Difficulties with dates? He was making him out to be an obtuse halfwit. Daniel bristled, then froze. Bedford was the idiot, not him. Well, then, Brett only spoke the truth. “Yes, I am afraid, my memory is not what it used to be. Dates, details, days,” he waved his hand airily. “Hard to keep everything straight. That is why I have my man here.” He clasped Brett’s shoulder. “Cannot get along without him. He is brilliant with pesky details.”

  Brett gave him a brittle smile.

  “Of course, of course.” The man’s eyes widened, his eyelashes almost meeting his eyebrows. “It was shortly following Shaw’s death.”

  “Thank you, Mr. . . . ?” Brett said.

  The man eyed him warily, before bowing. “Fuller, sir, Marcus Fuller of Shaw, Dodges, and Fuller.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fuller. On another matter, do you think you can give us the address of Mr. Shaw’s surviving sons? We might follow up on this matter with them. On the off chance this outstanding item that is of concern to His Grace is simply buried somewhere in Mr. Shaw’s possessions.”

  “Well . . . I . . . I am not certain that addresses . . .”

  “Please,” Julia glided forward and curled her arm through Daniel’s. “I hope it is not too much trouble. My father, the Earl of Taunton, would be much obliged as well for any assistance you can provide. He knows how important this is to my fiancé, and he does hope we can resolve this matter.”

  “My fiancée, Lady Julia Chandler,” Daniel made the introduction. That was one detail he refused to trip over. His hand curled around Julia’s, holding her in place.

  “Ah, yes, Lady Julia, it is a pleasure.” He dipped into a shallow bow. “I understand. I am sure we can locate that information for you. If you excuse me, why don’t I do so.”