The Undercover Duke

by Michaels, Jess

  She smiled, but she knew then and realized she’d never be able to forget, that what she needed was the heart he wouldn’t give. And the future they couldn’t have.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It had been four days since Lucas and Diana had returned from her cottage, and he had noticed the changes in her. Although she still bustled and treated his wounds, she was quieter, reflective as she processed her grief. He was processing too. Both of them had confessed a great deal about themselves, so much so that he knew they were both feeling exposed.

  In fact, she had exposed far more than perhaps she knew. When she’d told him that the name of her lover, the father of her child, was Boyd Caldwell, everything in him had frozen. One of the few things he recalled about the day he’d been attacked were his traitor’s guards walking past the hiding place, saying part of a name.

  Cal—

  He and Stalwood had pored over the first and last names within their ranks that could match. He knew Stalwood had reviewed each one, more than half a dozen, including Caldwell, himself, but they’d never come up with a solid connection.

  Only now there was one. Caldwell had been close enough to Diana’s father that Oakford had let him into his home. Let him near his daughter. Diana thought they’d been investigating a case together.

  Thoughts that had haunted Lucas ever since, thoughts that had begun to breed more and more suspicions about Caldwell. About Oakford, himself. He knew he would have to broach those thoughts with Stalwood sooner rather than later. But once he did…

  Well, Diana might find out. If his suspicions proved true, they would very likely break her heart. He wasn’t ready to do that, especially since she’d shared so much.

  Especially since he was shockingly not uncomfortable, either in the sharing or the knowing. In fact, he felt…closer to her. He had that night after she confessed when he simply held her while she fitfully slept. He had the night they’d returned when he made love to her in the hopes that pleasure would ease some of the pain.

  He did now as he sat across from her watching her pour tea and peruse the sidebar of breakfast pastries awaiting them this morning. “I received an invitation,” he said, forcing away his more troubling thoughts about the case and about her, and breaking the quiet at last. “To a ball at the Duke and Duchess of Abernathe’s.”

  She slowly turned, her hand shaking so much that the plate she held trembled. “I see.”

  “It is tonight,” he said. “And there was also a message for you from Meg. My assumption is she might wish to meet with you this afternoon to share her gowns.”

  “The only reason I’d do so is if I would attend the ball as your companion,” Diana said, setting her plate down and taking a seat beside him. “I don’t think that is wise.”

  He frowned. She was so certain she didn’t belong in his world. That she would be seen as less by his friends and peers. “I would like you to come,” he said softly.

  “And draw negative attention to yourself?” She shook her head. “It isn’t just going to be your friends there, is it?”

  He pursed his lips. “No, that would not serve the purpose of the ball, of course. There will be many of rank there.”

  “Then I don’t belong,” she said, and pushed the uneaten food away. “That’s the end of the discussion.”

  He leaned over and caught her hands. Slowly, he drew them up to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. He felt her shudder, shift, soften. He smiled. “Please attend.”

  “You think you can seduce me into it?” she asked.

  He arched a brow. “I know I can. But I don’t want to. I want you to be there because you’ll meet my friends as a group. Because I’d like to dance with you. Because I’d like to discuss any information that might be gleaned from our going. And because I’d like to see you as the shining, glorious star of the evening and know that I get to take you back to my bed at the end of the night.”

  She sighed, but it was obvious he’d won even before she said, “Very well, though I think you might be disappointed. Give me Meg’s letter and I will write to tell her I’ll come to her this afternoon to accept her offer.”

  “Good,” he said, handing the letter over with a grin. “You’ll be of great help to me, I’m certain.”

  She gave him a look and he saw her anxiety. “I’ll remind you of that after, when you are sorry you took me.”

  She pushed to her feet and went to refresh his tea from the sideboard. When she turned her back, his smile fell. Once more he was plagued with troubling thoughts that had nothing to do with the ball. Thoughts of how hurt she might be by the investigation he was bound to do.

  And how hurt he would be once he lost her.

  As Meg entered her parlor, Diana turned and was surprised to see a wide grin on her new friend’s face.

  “I’m so glad you came!” Meg said, and folded her into an embrace that was only made awkward by the pregnant belly that came between them. Diana found herself settling her hand on the swell and remembering her own months of confinement.

  Meg tilted her head. “Are you well?”

  “Yes,” Diana said, jerking the hand away. “I’m sorry, just woolgathering. You were so kind to invite me and to renew your offer of loaning me some clothes for tonight. I admit I have no idea what to do or say or think when it comes to such an event. I fear I shall muck it up entirely.”

  “Well, we’ll help you,” Meg said as she took her arm. “Now come up to my chamber and we’ll start. The others are very excited to meet you.”

  “The others?” Diana repeated as she followed the lead of the duchess.

  “Yes. Emma is busy as a goose preparing for the ball, with Charlotte’s help, but Adelaide is here and so is Helena.”

  Diana stopped in the middle of the hallway and forced Meg to do the same. “The other duchesses?” she asked.

  Meg tilted her head. “You needn’t look so frightened. Have I bitten you yet?”

  Diana couldn’t quite muster a laugh at the gentle teasing. “No, not yet. But it’s just…”

  She couldn’t complete the sentence and Meg put her arm around her. “I recognize you’re nervous. I even understand why. But I assure you, Adelaide and Helena are the sweetest and kindest women you could ever hope to encounter. You will feel nothing but welcome from them and friendship. They’re incapable of anything else.”

  Diana nodded slowly. Meg was so earnest in her praise that it was hard not to find some faith that she might be right. They walked up the stairs together and Meg took her to an open door. She could hear female voices from inside, quiet laughter, and she drew a cleansing breath to ready herself. They entered and two ladies turned from an open wardrobe in the dressing room.

  One was blonde, with loosely done locks that framed a very pretty face. She also had a pregnant belly of her own, though not as large as Meg’s. The other was slender, willowy, with a shock of auburn locks done in a simple chignon. As Diana and Meg entered, both the ladies’ faces lit up with happy, friendly smiles that could not help but put Diana at ease.

  “Diana, ladies, is here at last!” Meg said, drawing her forward. “Diana, may I present Adelaide, Duchess of Northfield, and Helena, our newest duchess. She was just married to the Duke of Sheffield recently.”

  “Sixty-seven days to be precise,” Helena said, and Diana was surprised to find the lady had a very American accent. Helena stepped forward to catch Diana’s hands in greeting. “I’m still blissfully counting each and every one. Hello and welcome. We’re so happy to meet you.”

  “We are,” Adelaide agreed. “And I hope Meg has told you that there are too many of us to call by title, at least amongst friends. You will call us Helena and Adelaide.”

  Diana laughed as her nervousness continued to fade. “I admit, neither of you seems a woman who could be denied. So if you insist, I cannot see how I’d say no.”

  They talked for a while, of frivolous things. With each passing moment, Diana fel
t herself becoming more and more comfortable. She had been so far removed by this echelon of Society that she had pictured the women within it as cold, detached, unfeeling.

  But that notion was being disproved at a rapid pace. All three ladies were amusing, welcoming, intelligent and clearly in love with their respective husbands. It was nearly impossible not to like them with all her heart and want to be part of their little circle.

  Not that she could be, not truly. If their husbands had formed a club of dukes, this was a party of duchesses, and that was something Diana would not be a part of, despite the love she could now privately admit she felt for Lucas.

  “Adelaide, your taste is impeccable,” Meg said at last. “Will you come look through my things and help me decide what Diana should try on first?”

  Adelaide smiled at Diana and the two ladies stepped away to the wardrobe to discuss, leaving Diana alone with Helena.

  “You seem a very happy newlywed,” she said.

  Helena’s face lit up. “Indeed, I am vastly content. You have not yet met Baldwin…er, Sheffield, but he is the greatest of men. Not that we did not have our struggles.”

  “Hearing you speak of him with such warmth and seeing your unmistakable joy, it’s difficult to picture that.”

  “In a way, I’m much like yourself. I was not born of this world. Not that I am anything as interesting as a healer to a spy.” Helena blushed.

  Diana laughed, though it was a nervous sound. Lucas had told her it was likely all the duchesses would now know their secret, but that he trusted it would never leave their circle. It sounded better, she supposed, than a mistress. “You’re American—I think that is very interesting.”

  Now it was Helena’s turn to laugh. “I am that. From Boston, though it hadn’t felt like home for a long time. I belong here now. But when I first arrived here, this—” She waved her hand around to indicate the fine chamber. “—wasn’t my station, either. I was nothing more than my cousin’s companion when I met Baldwin.”

  Diana blinked. Looking at the lovely woman before her, she could scarcely picture that she hadn’t always belonged in the warm group of her friends. “A companion?” she repeated.

  Helena nodded. “Due to many circumstances, things felt rather…dire for a long time. I could not believe that we could find happiness as we have. But I hope you’ll see me as proof that obstacles of class can be overcome. For us. And for you and Lucas.”

  Diana caught her breath. “I-I am not…Lucas and I are not courting.”

  Helena arched a brow. “Are you not? Then perhaps I misunderstood the situation.”

  Diana ducked her head. Helena didn’t sound like she thought she’d misunderstood anything at all. And yet Diana refused to be comforted by the words. The situation with Lucas was far more complicated than whatever had separated Helena from her duke.

  Diana had to remember that for herself as much as for anyone else in her acquaintance.

  She did not have to respond, however, for Meg and Adelaide returned to her with a lovely gown in each of their arms. Diana caught her breath at the bright jade of one choice and the dark, alluring blue of the other.

  “You’ll try on both,” Meg insisted, “for a start. And I am going to send word to Willowby that he will not see you again until the ball. You’ll stay here with me and I’ll help you do your hair, as well. You’ll accompany Simon and me in our carriage.”

  Diana shifted. “Oh, but—”

  “Don’t argue with her,” Adelaide said with a theatrically put-upon sigh. “She wins.”

  “Every time,” Helena said with a nod.

  Meg seemed pleased by the teasing of her friends and said, “You see?”

  “Very well.” Diana threw up her hands in surrender, for there seemed no room to argue. Even if there was, she was not entirely put off by the idea of being pampered and prepared by her new friends. “I am, apparently, at your mercy.”

  “Isn’t it so much easier just to admit it?” Meg said with a bright laugh. “Now which dress should we try first?”

  Diana sank into the moment as she stared from one gorgeous gown to the next. “Could I—could I try on the green first? It’s beautiful.”

  “Indeed,” Meg said with a wide grin. “It matches your eyes to perfection and I cannot wait to see it on you.”

  Diana turned and let Helena begun to unfasten her current, plain gown. This was all a fantasy, a fairytale story where the commonplace girl became a princess thanks to friends. And while she might enjoy indulging in the idea for a while, she reminded herself not to get too wrapped up in it.

  It would end. And sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lucas shifted and glanced at his pocket watch for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. The Abernathe ball was in full swing, but Diana had yet to arrive with Simon and Meg. He jolted when Graham Everly, Duke of Northfield, slung an arm around him and laughed.

  “You’re a bit obvious, mate, checking the door every thirty seconds. She’ll get here when she gets here. And I hear she’ll be worth the wait. When she arrived home, Adelaide could not stop waxing poetic about how lovely the mysterious Miss Oakford was in the dress the three of them picked out for her.”

  Lucas pursed his lips and refocused on the small group of his friends. He’d come early to James’s house for the reunion and now was surrounded by Graham, Ewan, Baldwin, Matthew and Robert. Simon had not yet arrived, of course, and James was busy with Emma, welcoming their guests as each was announced. Only two of them were missing. Kit was in the countryside with his ailing father and young sister. Hugh had been invited, but then it had been determined that he was not in London, a fact that disturbed his friends, though they hadn’t gotten into the specifics. They’d been too busy shaking hands, swapping stories and asking him questions about his life as a spy.

  A grand homecoming, indeed, and one that had warmed his heart.

  Now Lucas stood with the men, with them acting as if he’d never been gone from their circle. In a way, it felt like he hadn’t. Like he’d come home after a long time away, but found his chair and his bed and his life just as comfortable as it had ever been.

  “You’re being preposterous,” he said, forcing a benign look on his face. “You know my…situation…and why Diana is part of it. To pretend otherwise is…”

  He trailed off in the sentence, because at that moment Simon and Meg were announced. They stepped into the room together, and behind them was Diana. She was wearing a beautiful green gown, one that matched her eyes to perfection. It was cut just a fraction too tight in the bosom, as it had not been made for Diana, but the smaller Meg. That only served to accentuate those beautiful curves of hers.

  Her hair had been done by Meg’s maid, it seemed, and the woman had done magic, winding and twisting and curling until all those luscious locks were like a crown fit for the most beautiful queen in all the country. All the world.

  “You were about to tell us how you are unmoved by the entirely fetching Miss Oakford,” Robert, Duke of Roseford, drawled with half a grin for him. “If that is true, perhaps I’ll ask her to dance. She is stunning.”

  Lucas shot his friend—who also happened to be the most wild and inappropriate of the group—a glare. The very idea of the handsome, smirking, seductive duke putting his hands on Diana, even for just a dance, made Lucas’s blood boil.

  “I think he might have an apoplexy if you keep teasing him, Roseford,” Matthew said with a laugh. “You are too cruel.”

  “Shut up,” Lucas managed to mutter. “Diana is…well, she deserves better than any of us. Excuse me.”

  He felt his friends’ eyes on his back as he departed their company and began what felt like an eternity of walking across the room toward her. She was talking to Meg and Emma now. Emma was clearly cooing over the gown that suited her so well. But Diana kept watching him from the corner of her eye, and when he reached them, she let out a breath like she’d been ho
lding it.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said, and reached for Diana’s hand. It was shaking when she offered it, and he lifted it to his lips. “You look wonderful,” he said quietly.

  “I-it is all Meg’s exquisite gown, I assure you,” she said.

  Emma snorted out a laugh. “It is not.”

  “Never deflect a compliment, my dear,” Meg said, and her gaze held firm on Lucas. “Especially one that is so sincerely meant.”

  Simon and James stepped up then, taking their wives’ arms. James grinned. “The arrivals have slowed now, so I think we can call this ball official.”

  “A great thanks to you, Your Grace, for making the arrangements so swiftly,” Lucas said, forcing himself to look at Emma and away from Diana. She was a lovely woman, with kindness aplenty. It was obvious that James was devoted to her and their young daughter, heart and body and soul. Something he’d never imagined was possible for his friend when they were younger. To see James so at ease gave him nothing but pleasure.

  “I’m happy to be of assistance,” Emma said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Especially if it brings one of my husband’s oldest and dearest friends back to our circle.”

  “They are beginning a waltz,” James said, drawing Emma a bit closer. “We always dance the opening waltz, my dear. Do not deny me now.”

  Emma blushed and glanced up at him. “As if I could ever deny you. Enjoy yourselves tonight, you four. I hope we’ll talk often later.”

  The two swept off then, and Lucas watched as James spun his wife into the dance, his hand just a bit too low in the small of her back, their eyes locked.

  “They look very happy,” Diana observed, her tone a bit far away as the foursome watched them dance. “And she is lovely.”

  “She is,” Meg agreed. “I could not have picked a better bride for my brother. To see him so happy is…it’s…”

  She caught her breath and reached up to wipe a sudden tear. Simon tugged her closer. “Oh dear, this baby turns my wife into a water pot on more days than not. Happy tears, sad tears, tears over a torn hem…”