The Secret Duke

by Jo Beverley

  “Do you still have your knife?” she asked.

  He extended his right hand and she saw the hilt appear at his wrist. He slid it free with his left hand. Left-handed. She hadn’t noticed that before, either. Every detail was precious. She told him about her pistol and why she’d purchased it, and took it out to show him.

  By the time they drew close to London, the long journey had passed in far- ranging conversation that seemed to flow easily, even though she knew he was keeping secrets. She couldn’t complain when she was keeping more.

  As the coach rattled on cobblestoned streets she dreaded even a brief return to her life of lies and was tempted to tell him all about Lady Fowler and ask his advice. It was doubtless as well that he returned to the subject of her brother.

  “I’ll make inquiries in London about hells in your area of Oxfordshire. I don’t suppose you know of any?”

  The words slipped out. “My hells there were of a completely different order.”

  He touched her hand, looking somberly into her eyes. “We will make him pay.”

  They’d both removed their gloves, and she felt the comforting warmth. Then he curled his long fingers around hers, intensifying something that was more than physical heat. Something that made it much harder not to reveal the follies of her heart.

  She stared at the carriage floor, probably looking bashful and even afraid, but trying desperately to reveal nothing.

  He raised her hand to his lips, which made her eyes fly to his.

  “I solemnly pledge to avenge you,” he said, and kissed her knuckles.

  The carriage seemed extremely small now. It would take only the tiniest movement to be close enough to kiss.

  He relaxed away from her, and she came to her senses. Clearly that sort of kiss hadn’t been on his mind at all.

  They sank into silence until they arrived at the George Inn, where they would leave the carriage.

  Bella hoped he would allow her to go off alone in a sedan chair, but of course he didn’t. As he escorted her to her house she fretted that he’d expect to go inside. How could she explain its being her own house, staffed by her own servants?

  He didn’t attempt to enter, however, but simply waited until she’d unlocked the door. She looked back and waved.

  He bowed in that wonderfully elegant way he had, looking darkly mysterious in the flaring light of the linkboy’s torch.

  The house was dark and silent, and she hoped to slip up to her bedroom unnoticed, but a mobcapped head peered over the rail of the upper landing, illuminated by a quivering candle. Kitty seemed to have a poker in her hand. But then she ran downstairs, in danger of tripping on her nightgown and breaking her neck.

  “Oh, miss! Praise the Lord, you’re safe!”

  Chapter 16

  Bella suffered a suffocating hug and then broke free. “I’m completely safe,” she lied. “I wrote to say as much.”

  “But you’ve been gone so long! Oh, I’m sorry, miss. I know I shouldn’t. But we’ve been so worried.”

  Bella sighed. “I’m sorry, Kitty, but I have important matters in hand, and I’ll be away again in the morning. So let me get to bed now.”

  “Away again?” Kitty’s lips trembled as if she’d cry. But she pulled herself together. “As you say, miss. But I’ll go and get you some hot water. There’s a fire in your room, miss. We’ve been expecting you back every day.”

  She was off before Bella could protest, and in truth she’d like to wash after the long journey. She climbed wearily upstairs, rather daunted by the thought of another day’s travel tomorrow.

  Even with Captain Rose.

  Caleb.

  For some reason, she couldn’t think of him as Caleb.

  Better not to think about him at all.

  Easier not to breathe, she accepted as she unpinned her hat and took off her cap. She reached in to empty her pockets—and came up with an ivory skull with ruby eyes.

  She considered it as if it were a magical head that might speak wisdom, but then wrapped it in a handkerchief and returned it to the pocket for safety.

  Thorn walked to his house through the dark and dangerous streets of London with only the linkboy as company. He needed to think.

  Bella Barstowe as his duchess. Ridiculous, but once thought, the idea had put down roots.

  He’d met every woman considered suitable to be his wife and none had more than a superficial appeal. He’d been able to look ahead and see only tedium with each. Tolerable tedium, as long as she had her life and he had his, but nothing more.

  Many were pretty and some were beauties, but he wasn’t looking for an ornament.

  Most were well trained to run great households, take their place at court, and mingle with the powerful. That was definitely a consideration, but now he wondered why. At the moment his households ran without a duchess.

  The eligible young ladies understood court as fully as they understood fashion and frivolity, but learning court protocol would require merely intelligence and application, and he was sure Bella had both. What was more, she had been presented years ago—as a provincial visitor, not as a natural part of that world, but it wouldn’t be completely strange to her.

  Which left . . . her reputation.

  It was an impediment, for people could be cruel, especially to those they saw as intruders, and many would be bitter at her snatching the prize. On the other hand, in the highest circles many were more tolerant of peccadilloes than in gentry circles, and his ducal cloak could cover most flaws.

  Robin and Christian would accept her, which was a start.

  No, the real start would be to tell Bella who he was before this situation became disastrously snarled.

  But he didn’t want to do that yet.

  As he approached Ithorne House, he grimaced at himself. It was like the plot of a foolish play, but he wanted to see if he could woo and win Bella Barstowe as a simple sea captain, not as the Duke of Ithorne.

  Bella took down her hair, trying not to remember the touch of their bare hands and his lips on her knuckles. Trying not to remember the kiss that had never been.

  She shook herself and undressed down to stays and shift, then took the pins out of her hair. She was brushing it when Kitty came in, Annie trailing along with the warming pan, but her eager look made it clear she’d mostly come to satisfy herself that indeed Bella was home and safe.

  Bella had Kitty get her out of the stays, then shooed them both off to bed.

  Alone, she stripped to her bare skin and washed off sweat and dust. As she wiped the soapy cloth around her breasts, she remembered when she’d burst into his bedchamber as he’d been washing.

  Washing his muscular chest . . .

  A strange sensation made her look down. Her nipples were sticking out. She passed the cloth over them and started at the sensation, at the heat sweeping through her body. Where was he now? Was he washing as she was? She circled the cloth, imagining him doing the same.

  She jerked, shivered, and tossed down the cloth. She hurried into her nightgown and into the bed, but she expected her unruly mind to disturb her sleep again. But the next thing she knew Kitty was shaking her awake.

  “There’s a package come, miss, so I thought I’d better wake you up.”

  Bella sat up, rubbing her gritty eyes. “A package? What time is it?”

  “Nearly nine, miss.”

  Bella sat up sharply. She’d said she’d be ready to travel on by ten. “Water, breakfast. And bring out all those items I bought at the rag shop.” She took the box Kitty was holding. “And scissors to cut this string.”

  In moments she had the box open. It contained blond hair. She warily picked it up and realized it was a wig. She unfolded the note beneath.

  Strong writing, but just a little untutored, as one would expect.

  My dear Miss Barstowe,

  I will be at your house at ten in the morning with a chaise. You mentioned a wig, but do you have one?

  Your servant, Captain Rose

&nb
sp; She did have a wig, of course, but this mousy blond was much better than the dramatic black. And, she suddenly realized, if Captain Rose had been the goatherd, he might recognize it. A narrow escape.

  She climbed out of bed, washed, and put on her shift and stockings. Rebelling against traveling in stays, she put on a pair of her light jumps. If that spoiled the lie of her gown, so be it. Kitty had spread out all her gowns.

  Should she wear the pretty one she’d worn to go to the Goat? No, again, he might recognize it. Very well, the more sober brown again. It was practical for dusty travel.

  She would take the other, though. There might come a day when it wouldn’t matter that he might recognize it.

  She sat at her dressing table to brush and pin up her hair. When she fixed the blond wig on top, it was quite convincing. It was already arranged in a neat, quiet style that would never attract attention.

  Demure.

  Depressing, really, and it made her skin pallid.

  “There’s something else in this box, miss,” Kitty said. “Another pair of spectacles.”

  Bellona wore half-moon spectacles, but these were perfect circles, and when Bella put them on they gave her an owlish look to add to her demure pallor. The disguise would work, though. Even if she met someone who’d known Bella Barstowe four years ago, this pale, plain creature wouldn’t stir suspicion.

  She put on the dull brown dress, then added a plain cap and one of Bellona Flint’s dull brown hats. Once she’d added her dull brown cloak, she’d looked such an antidote everyone would be surprised that Captain Rose had married her.

  “All in the cause,” she muttered, turning. “Is my trunk packed?”

  Kitty was fighting tears. “Oh, miss, what are you doing? Can’t I come with you? It isn’t right. You’re going off with some man!”

  “Yes, I am, but if I were running off to be wicked, I wouldn’t dress like this, would I? Don’t be silly. And keep all this to yourself.”

  She saw it was nearly ten and went below to talk to Peg. She’d rather slip away, but that would hurt Peg, who was already punching viciously at a mound of dough.

  “You’re leaping into folly again, aren’t you?”

  “I never leapt into folly before,” Bella retorted.

  “Yes, you did. Many a time. You only got into trouble once. And I grant that wasn’t your fault, but if you’d not been off wandering . . .”

  Bella let the complaints run past her until they were exhausted; then she sent Annie off on an errand and quietly told Peg what she’d learned, and what she had planned.

  “Sir Augustus!” Peg exclaimed, but then she said, “Not that I’m surprised, and that’s the truth. A sneaky child, and then there was talk later.”

  “About what?” Bella asked, suddenly very interested.

  Peg gave her a narrow look.

  “Yes, I’m probably going to take some risks. But if you can tell me where Augustus goes to game, it will be less risky.”

  Peg pounded the dough a few more times. “There’s a place in Upstone. The Old Oak Inn. It services men, but there’s other stuff goes on, and kept very quiet. But you don’t want to be going there.”

  “Yes, I do. Don’t worry. I’ll have an escort.”

  Bella said it mischievously, and got the expected response. Almost. Peg spluttered, but then compressed her lips and took her feelings out on the dough.

  “You’ll murder that,” Bella said.

  “Shows what you know about making bread. You’ll do what you do. I knows that.”

  “I will be safe,” Bella said gently. “I’ll be with the gentleman who rescued me all those years ago.”

  “That Captain Rose? But you said he was a pirate!”

  Annie came back then and squeaked with alarm.

  “No such thing,” Bella said. “He’s not even a smuggler.” Most of the time, she added to herself. “But he feels offended against because he was embroiled in the situation, so he’s willing to help me.” Peg needed distraction, or she still might attempt to stop Bella’s plans. “And when I come back, there will be changes.”

  “Changes?” Peg asked suspiciously.

  “For the better. I intend to leave Lady Fowler’s flock.”

  “Well, thank the good God for that. Where’ll we go, then?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps you should choose. Think about it while I’m gone. Oh, there’s the door.”

  Bella ran off before Peg could make any more objections.

  She opened the door herself, to find Captain Rose waiting outside with a chaise.

  His brows shot up and he smiled. “Even better than I hoped. I doubt I’d have recognized you without warning.”

  “I suppose it’s something that I don’t normally look appalling.”

  He chuckled. “Not quite enough to make infants scream. Are you ready?”

  He carried her trunk out to the chaise and stowed it in the boot. Bella carried her small valise into the carriage with her. She took her seat, looking curiously at the basket on the floor. Food for the journey?

  He entered and the postilions set the four horses into motion. If the basket contained food, it was still alive.

  “Did I hear a squeak?” she asked warily.

  “Perhaps. I have devised a plan to explain our lingering in one area, and also wandering around alert for dens of iniquity. We will be seeking cat-rabbits of Hesse.”

  Bella wrinkled her brow at him. “Are you making sense?”

  “Perfect sense,” he said, eyes bright now with amusement. “A case has recently come to light of a creature that might be a cross between a cat and a rabbit. The scientific community is in a furor about it, especially about whether it is possible. A very eminent gentleman whose name we will never divulge has sent out agents around the nation to discover any other examples.”

  “Half cat, half rabbit? Which half is which?”

  He laughed, looking ridiculously young. “What a delightful question! One that no one has yet posed. Generally the front end is cat, the back end mostly rabbit. Big haunches and little or no tail.”

  “You’re serious,” she said.

  “Completely.”

  “Why Hesse?” Bella asked, still suspecting he was playing her for a fool.

  “Because the original specimen is said to have come from there. Where it is the terror of the infamous Hessian fanged rabbit.”

  “Captain Rose, I do not appreciate your indulging in nonsense at a time like this.”

  “Miss Barstowe, I am relating honestly the story I have been told. On my honor. And here as evidence is the cat.” He picked up the basket and put it on his knee.

  “You’ve brought a cat?”

  “Three.” When he raised the lid, she saw a lushly padded interior and a dark cat. Then she saw the two separate tiny bundles.

  “Oh,” she said, automatically reaching out.

  The cat hissed, and she pulled her hand back.

  “Manners, Tabitha,” he chided.

  The cat said, “Eee-ah!” It did not sound apologetic.

  “You will see,” he said, “that a cat-rabbit of Hesse talks. With time, you will understand her perfectly.”

  “Will I, indeed? What does ‘eee-ah!’ mean, then?”

  “Unsuitable for a lady’s ears. A human lady, that is.”

  “I’m not surprised she’s upset. Cats with very young kittens don’t like to be disturbed.”

  “So you would think, but she insisted.”

  “Insisted?” Bella asked, looking at him narrowly. “If you are going to taunt me for the rest of the journey, this will become very tiresome.”

  “I speak nothing but the truth,” he protested. “Whether she’s taken a dislike to the lad appointed to care for her or fancied a journey, she was most vociferous on the subject of coming with us.”

  “She’s your cat?” Bella asked, completely confused.

  “Oh, no. Not at all. She belongs to a family connection.”

  “In London.”

 
“In London,” he agreed. He seemed to be daring her to ask more questions, and she would have except that she could guess.

  She wouldn’t have thought the Duke of Ithorne interested in odd cats, but noblemen had their eccentricities. He must have spent the night at his brother’s house.

  It was another blow against her impossible dreams. A man who moved comfortably at the highest levels of society could never marry someone like herself. She’d thought she’d reconciled herself to that, but a new pang showed the work was not quite complete. Perhaps his charming whimsy about the cat had undermined it.

  The kittens stirred and clambered over their mother. Then they tried to climb the walls of the basket. Captain Rose put his hand nearby, and one scrambled onto his fingers, mewling and licking. The other hovered, thinking about it.

  Mother cat watched, but she didn’t hiss at him.

  “They’re different, aren’t they?” Bella asked.

  “Yes. One’s a cat-rabbit, but the other seems all cat.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “That’s what fascinates the scientists, but if we assume Tabitha is the result of a mating of cat with rabbit, and that her own . . . er, partner was a tomcat, then it might make sense. In the strange way these things work, one offspring could be all cat and the other part rabbit.”

  Bella was blushing a little, for this wasn’t the sort of subject a lady discussed, especially with a gentleman, but she was fascinated. “What of the other kittens?”

  “Alas, only two survived, and the careless person in charge at the time didn’t preserve the bodies.”

  “It would have been a strange thing to do.”

  “Not with a little forethought,” he said seriously, making her chuckle.

  “Do you always think so far ahead?”

  “I try to. For example, I have remembered your wedding ring.” He dug his free hand into a pocket and produced a little cloth pouch, offering it to her.

  Bella stiffened, but he said, “It really is the only way.”