Unmasking a Duke

by Ellie St. Clair

  You must guard your heart, Arabella, she told herself, sternly. You cannot lose your heart to a man such as the Duke, especially when your acquaintance with him is only so that you can steal something for your father.

  The sudden realization about what she was doing hit her full force, making her stomach churn with anxiety. The Duke might appear to be interested in her, but she had to remember what it was she was doing. She also had to bring to mind the kind of man the Duke was. More than likely, he would attempt to seduce her at some point. He was not interested in her heart, nor in a future with her. She would simply be another conquest.

  Her heart sank to her toes as she walked towards the front door of the house. Her father would not care if the Duke was successful in his seduction of her, so long as she retrieved the necklace. The Duke would not care about her heart, so long as he was successful in his attempt to have her warm his bed. Attempting to put a smile on her face as she greeted the Duke once more, Arabella tried to banish the melancholy thoughts from her mind. There would be no use in feeling sorry for herself. Perhaps she should simply enjoy spending time with the Duke and worry about the rest later.

  6

  “And will you be attending the Vauxhall garden party tomorrow evening?” Andrew asked, looking down at the exquisite creature beside him. This was now the tenth time he had called on her, the tenth time he had taken her out in his curricle, and still, he had not revealed to her the truth of his identity. He fully intended to, of course, but the more time he spent with her, the more he found himself unable to reveal the truth. He had chosen not to attend any more social occasions, either as himself or as his brother, for then the game might very easily be up. Instead, he chose to remain at home, sorting through the list of gentlemen and ladies his brother had so recently wronged. It was quite extensive, but he was slowly making amends with most of them – although not all of them, not by any means.

  “I believe so,” she replied, glancing up at him with those emerald eyes he so often thought of. “I have heard it is an evening not to be missed.”

  "You have never attended before?" he asked, surprised. Even as the mere second son, brother of a Duke, he had always been graced with an invitation. There was no reason that the daughter of an Earl should not be given an invitation also.

  She shook her head. “I believe my father has received the invitation before, but we have never had the opportunity to attend. That has changed this year.”

  She gave him a small smile, although Andrew spotted a hint of sadness playing around her mouth. He wished he knew what it was that brought such a look to her face, although, of course, they were not yet of such a strong acquaintance that he felt able to ask her.

  “Then, may I be permitted to accompany you?” he asked, softly. The surprise jumped onto her face, for he was now clearly showing his interest in her.

  “I would be delighted, Your Grace,” she replied, before turning her face towards the road once more.

  He sighed heavily. This was not the reaction he had expected. She always showed interest in him, but he consistently got the impression she was holding something back from him – but, as yet, he did not know what. Taking a chance, he touched her hand with his.

  "I am hosting a very small soiree next week also," he continued, as her eyes jumped back to his. "It is only a very small affair, however. Would your father be terribly upset if I sent an invitation to you alone?" He smiled gently, as her eyes slowly began to glow. Clearly, he was making his affection more evident than ever and finally, it seemed, she was beginning to realize what that meant.

  * * *

  “May I ask you something, Your Grace?” she asked, her lips curving into a small smile.

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  She bit her lip for a moment before replying, as though trying to find the right words. “It is not as though I do not appreciate your interest in me, but I am fully aware of your… your reputation. I do hope that I will not attend your soiree, only to discover that I am your only guest. I have a reputation to protect.” Evidently, the shock of being so blunt with him embarrassed her, although she did lift her chin despite her flaming cheeks.

  The truth of the matter hit him square in the chest. In pretending to be his brother, he was taking on his brother's reputation and all that it entailed. If only they did not look so similar, then he might not have gotten away with pretending to her – and to her father – that he was the Duke. In fact, when he had driven in his curricle, he had always ensured to stick to the quieter roads and had never taken a turn towards Hyde Park, for then surely the truth would come out. Why could he not tell her the truth about who he was? Was it because he was worried that she only held the Duke in her affections? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sighing heavily. He had taken the charade too far, for now if he told her the truth of his identity, she might very easily turn from him entirely. He would be seen as a fraud, dishonest and deceitful. Then again, he could not exactly continue building an attachment towards her, when she thought he was the Duke.

  "I can assure you that you will not be the only guest, Miss Marley," he said, firmly. He had, in fact, asked around eight of his own close friends to an evening of cards and music, and had asked Miss Marley to join them on a mere whim. However, it also meant that he would not be able to keep up the charade of being the Duke. A small sigh left his lips. Mayhap that was a good thing, for then he would have no choice but to reveal the truth to Miss Marley. Andrew was surprised to find that his heart was already engaged with the woman, feeling pain over the realization that he might lose her forever, once she discovered the truth of who he was.

  “Then I would be glad to accept,” Miss Marley replied, softly. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  He studied her for a moment, holding her gaze. She truly was a beautiful young lady, but he found her to be both quick witted and having excellent conversation. He enjoyed listening to her opinions on certain matters although he still could not place the sadness he heard in her voice at times. That irked him more than he wanted to admit, for he did not want Miss Marley to be at all distressed in his presence. Whatever it was that she was holding back from him, Andrew was slowly becoming more determined to find out what it was, so that he could, at the very least, simply help share her burden.

  Returning her to her father’s townhouse, he helped her down from the curricle as he always did, relishing the opportunity to take her hand in his. “Miss Marley,” he murmured, turning her hand over and pressing a small kiss to her wrist. Hearing her gasp of shock and surprise, he gave her a small smile. “Already, I am looking forward to escorting you to Vauxhall tomorrow evening,” he continued, looking deeply into her eyes. “Thank you again for your company this afternoon.”

  She blushed deeply, although her lips curved into a smile. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Escorting her to the door, he bowed quickly as she entered, just catching sight of her father standing by the door, evidently waiting for her. To his dismay, the smile left Miss Marley’s face immediately as she caught sight of her father, her entire body seeming to droop. “Oh no,” he heard her whisper, causing him to glance at her sharply.

  He had no time to ask her what was the matter, for she curtsied quickly, before walking inside.

  Returning to his carriage, Andrew frowned heavily. What was it about Lord Marley that had seemingly distressed Miss Marley? And how could he help her?

  Sighing, Andrew rubbed a hand over his eyes, choosing to return home. Another two notes had arrived since his brother’s departure, although neither of them had been specific in their threats. In addition, he had managed to settle a few ruffled feathers, but in doing so, he had simply discovered that his brother had upset a great many more people than he had first anticipated.

  “M’lord,” the butler intoned, the moment he arrived. “You have another.”

  “Another?” Andrew said, frustrated. “Where?”

  “I have placed it in the Duke’s study,” the butler replied, taking
his hat and gloves. “Some refreshments, my lord?”

  Nodding, Andrew walked quickly along to the study, wondering what it was this note would contain.

  "I am surprised to discover that the Duke's brother has been making reparations of sorts," he read aloud. "Although I feel obliged to inform you that monies cannot make up for the damage done to my family's name. The Duke will get his comeuppance, whether he resides in town or in Scotland. You will not hear from me again, my lord, for my battle is with the Duke and not with his brother."

  7

  Andrew studied his reflection, his stomach churning. The note he had received yesterday had caused him no end of worry, and he had written to his brother in warning almost immediately. He was torn between rushing off to Scotland to assist his brother in whatever difficulties came his way, or staying here to continue with his reparations as well as his growing attachment to Miss Marley.

  Whatever the note had meant, it certainly did not bode well for the Duke. Gritting his teeth, Andrew waited for the valet to finish fixing his cravat, feeling tension race through his body. How was he meant to enjoy his evening with Miss Marley, when he had this on his mind?

  Miss Marley.

  The thought of her brought yet more confusion to his mind. He cared for her, found her amiable and well spoken, with emerald eyes that filled his consciousness whenever he thought of her. But yet, there could be nothing true between them were he to keep up his pretense of being his brother. Deep down, Andrew knew that this was why he had suggested taking her to Vauxhall Gardens, for it would be quite dark and no-one would really be able to recognize him, not unless he decided to go indoors for a time. It was a pleasant evening, however, and everyone would most likely stay outdoors, particularly when the time for the fireworks drew near. As the valet stepped away, Andrew let out a soft groan, tormented over what to do. In inviting her to his soiree later that week, he would have no choice but to tell her the truth, but mayhap he could simply enjoy her company this evening and face the difficulty of having to tell her the truth another time. Were he honest, Andrew worried that the lady was only interested in his company because of his status, although he hoped she wanted to be with him for much more than that. He wondered, though, how she would react when she discovered he was not all he seemed. He could already see her eyes flashing, her pale cheeks flushed with ire.

  "One more night," he muttered to himself, looking at his reflection. He looked perfectly proper, and the thought of Miss Marley on his arm made him smile despite his troubling thoughts. "One more night," he repeated again, before walking from the room.

  * * *

  Arabella could barely breathe, as the Duke escorted her from the carriage with her father following behind. He had been so kind to her thus far, showing her a great deal of attention, to the point that she had almost forgotten her true reasons in seeking out his company. Of course, her father had taken great pains to remind her about the necklace and had muttered something about disappearing for a time during the Vauxhall event. Arabella had begged him not to leave her in an improper situation but had her ears blistered in response. Her heart had sunk into her slippers, only to beat frantically in her chest as the Duke arrived.

  * * *

  How foolish it was for her to care for him so! Despite her true task, she had been looking forward to seeing him again. Over the last few weeks, he had called on her a number of times and had proved himself to be a gentleman, despite the rumors. Her father had been thrilled, of course, especially when the invitation to the Duke’s evening soiree had arrived at their town house. He had ensured she’d accepted at once, reminding her that it would be the perfect opportunity to find the Marley necklace.

  I must not let my heart care for him, she told herself, as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. She looked up at him, his face hidden in shadow as they began to walk around the gardens. It was already quite crowded, but the Duke had mentioned something about there being a great number of paths around the grounds which they could take. There were refreshments too, of course, before the wonderful fireworks as the final event of the evening. Glancing over her shoulder, Arabella was horrified to see her father duck away from them, leaving her entirely alone with the Duke. It was most improper, and she had to hope that the darkness would keep her from being recognized. The last thing she wanted was for the ton to start rumors about her, which could ruin her reputation.

  “Shall we go further into the gardens?”

  His voice was warm and Arabella felt herself respond almost immediately. "Yes, of course," she murmured, aware that he'd not even noticed the lack of her father's company. To her surprise, his hand rested on hers, and, with shock, she realized he was not wearing any gloves.

  Sparks flew between them, as Arabella gave in to the emotions flooding her heart. She had tried so hard not to feel anything for the man, but it was impossible to deny it any longer. His touch spread warmth through her fingers and up her arm, both exciting and terrifying her in equal measure. She was glad for the shadows hiding her hot cheeks, their path taking them into a treed canopy that hid even the moon from view. A few soft lamps lit their path, giving them just enough light to see by.

  Glancing up at him, Arabella saw that he was looking down at her, his dark eyes studying her features. Her mouth went dry and she struggled to think of something to say.

  "Miss Marley," he said, quietly. "It appears we have lost your father." She winced at the slightly unbelieving tone in his voice, as though he realized it was by design.

  “I had nothing to do with his departure from us,” she replied, defensively. “I begged him not to.”

  There was silence for a moment, as Arabella realized she had given a little too much away.

  * * *

  “I see,” came the eventual reply. “Then you do not wish to be here with me?”

  Arabella swallowed hard, turning her face away from him. “I very much enjoy your company, Your Grace. I just did not wish my father to put me in a situation such as this, both for the sake of my reputation as well as your own.”

  He laughed, easing her tension. “You need not fear about my reputation, Miss Marley, but you are quite right about your own.” His hand tightened on hers for a moment. "It is just as well that this place is filled with shadows then, is it not? For I shall ensure that no one recognizes you, not until I have returned you to your father."

  "I thank you," she murmured, realizing that their steps were slowing. Spotting a small arbor to their left, Arabella took in a deep breath. Despite what she had to do, despite what would probably happen to their attachment once he discovered what it was she was truly doing, she gave in to the desire raging through her.

  Dropping his hand, she walked into the arbor, ensuring she was out of sight of the path. Turning, she stood and waited for him, hoping her meaning was clear. Her heart was beating so quickly, she thought it might jump from her chest, her nerves filling her entire body. For once she was determined to do something that was her own choosing, not what her father or anyone else imposed upon her.

  After a few moments, she heard the Duke's footsteps as he slowly approached the arbor.

  “Miss Marley?” he asked, softly. “Whatever are you doing?”

  Catching his arm, Arabella pulled him gently towards her.

  “This,” she murmured, before reaching up to kiss him.

  8

  Andrew was stunned when her lips reached up to his, her actions completely taking him off guard. He pulled back the moment their lips met, staring down at her with wide eyes.

  "What is it?" she asked, softly. "I thought…." Her words trailed off and Andrew could see the confusion and worry in her eyes. Of course, they had formed something of an attachment, and yes he did very much want to kiss her, but at the same time there was a loud warning sounding in his mind. He was going to be taking this further than he should, especially when she did not know his true identity. And he was not sure he could keep a sweet kiss from turning into something far more.r />
  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, taking a step back. “I should not have acted with such impropriety.” Her hands left his chest, dropping to her sides. Her face fell, and she stood there, looking utterly alone and the very picture of misery.

  Unable to stand it, Andrew stepped closer, drawing her to himself. He tipped her chin up and lifted her face to his once more. “I was just taken aback,” he said, by way of explanation. “I do care for you very much, Miss Marley.”

  Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “Arabella,” she breathed, her eyes dropping to his lips.

  He smiled in response, his gaze drawn to her slightly parted lips, hearing her breathing quicken in response to his closeness. There was no resistance as he lowered his head, aware of her eyes closing as he grazed his lips against hers. In a heartbeat, she melted against him, and he put his arms around the soft curves of her waist, holding her close.

  Andrew lost himself. Time slowed as he kissed Arabella Marley, drinking her in as best he could. Her lips parted for him as he explored her mouth with a gentle slowness that began to burn a fire in him. He felt her hands creep around his neck, her fingers twining into his hair. Carefully, he took his lips from hers and pressed them along the curve of her jaw towards her ear, hearing her gasp at his caress.

  Her gasp undid him. He began to tease her nipple through the soft fabric of her dress, drawing it to a peak as he reclaimed her mouth with more passion than before. She whimpered as she melted even further into him, opening herself up to all he had to offer. The same finger he’d used to lift her chin lifted her skirts and found her through the folds of her dress.