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My Daring Duchess (Once Upon a Rogue Book 4)

Page 14

by Julie Johnstone


  “There is actually a lord that I have been becoming acquainted with,” she started.

  “Yes, I knew. I questioned Mrs. Featherstone one evening when you were out late and she was here.”

  “You did?” Anne asked, anxiety tightening her chest. She had intended to take her chaperone with her on more of her jaunts, but the older woman had been napping every time Anne had wanted to go out.

  “Indeed. I am your grandfather. It is my job to ensure you are not falling prey to another rogue, even at your age,” he added, as if he had known the very argument she might use. “Mrs. Featherstone assured me that Jemma said that she herself was chaperoning you on your outings.”

  “She did?” Anne blurted, having to fight the urge to grin. Jemma was the most wonderful sister to have covered for her in such a way.

  “I was just coming to find you actually,” her grandfather said. “I only learned of all this a few hours ago, but what Mrs. Featherstone failed to discover is who this lord is who has your interest.”

  Knots of anxiety formed in Anne’s stomach, but she took a deep breath and said, “Now, Grandfather, do not get upset. I’m being very careful and proceeding very slowly… It is the Duke of Kilmartin.”

  A scowl immediately swept over her grandfather’s face. “Oh, my dear,” he said, his voice filled with notes of sadness and regret. “I fear the man is only pursuing you to strike at me.”

  “I know that is what you think, Grandfather,” she replied, “and perhaps you are correct, but he repeatedly has proven honorable and kind, though I must admit I find myself racked with guilt that I could be developing a tendre for a man who wronged Mary.” She held her breath, praying her grandfather would reveal something that could give her hope. When he simply stared at her, she added, “You must be so upset with me, knowing for certain that he seduced Mary.”

  Her grandfather’s shoulders slumped, and he turned, went to the settee, and sat. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Actually, I am not certain. I never was.”

  Hope blossomed within Anne. She rushed to her grandfather, sat beside him, and took his hand in hers. “What do you mean? Did you not convince the former Duke of Kilmartin of his grandson’s guilt? Surely, you did not do such a thing without some sort of evidence.”

  “I lied,” her grandfather said, shame washing over his face. “I…” He glanced away for a long moment before returning his gaze to her. “When Kilmartin seemed to be wavering about cutting ties with his grandson, I told him that I had seen the man coming out of Mary’s bedchamber in a state of dishabille.”

  Anne gasped, then was overcome with anger. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  Her grandfather sighed. “Mary was adamant that it had occurred, and I felt I had failed her by not protecting her. I did not want to fail to get the justice she had insisted upon after Kilmartin’s grandson refused to wed her. I had to break her betrothal because of her lost innocence, and she was left with no one to wed her. She told me Kilmartin’s grandson seduced her, and I chose to believe her and ignore my doubts.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I have worried over the years about what I may have unfairly caused if I believed in lies. Quite a few times in the years past has Mary shown that she will bend the truth when she pleases.”

  “Oh, Grandfather! I honestly don’t think His Grace did anything untoward.”

  “Perhaps not,” her grandfather said, “but that does not mean he is not purposely trying to seduce you now to hurt me. He must surely hate me, as he knows very well I never saw him leaving Mary’s bedchamber. If I were him, that hate would have festered through the years and I would be hard-pressed not to go to any lengths to attain my revenge. I’m afraid, my dear, though he may be innocent of seducing Mary, he is guilty of wishing to hurt me through you.”

  Anne felt as if a storm of confusion was buffeting her from the inside out. She did not know what to believe.

  Anne lay on her bed sometime later, staring blindly up at the ceiling. She had not gone down to supper when called, as she had no appetite, so she was not surprised when a knock came at her door. “Enter,” she called, assuming it was her grandfather coming to see why she was not below. She heard the creak of the door opening, and soft footsteps, but then all was silent.

  She sat up, but immediately flopped back down onto her back at the sight of her sister smirking at her.

  “That is a horrible greeting for someone who ensured you did not get into trouble with Grandfather.”

  Anne sighed, but forced herself to sit up, as her sister was correct. “I’m sorry,” Anne said, while Jemma walked toward her and then sat on the bed. “I appreciate greatly what you did.”

  Jemma surprised Anne by reaching over and giving her a hug. “Of course. You are my sister, and I love you. Which is why I’m concerned about you. Tell me what else has occurred with His Grace.”

  Anne nodded, took a deep breath, and told Jemma about seeing Ian’s name scratched on paper on Simon’s desk and what Perceval said about Ian being Simon’s business partner.

  “Well, he certainly does not need your money, so you can rule that out. Philip did a little snooping, and Kilmartin has more coin than he will be able to spend in ten lifetimes. And according to Philip there is no indication that the man is inclined to wish for more wealth or a wealthy wife to bring him more. He has actually been pursued by several heiresses and shown no interest in any of them.”

  Anne could not have stopped the grin that pulled at her lips no matter how hard she tried. “Am I a fool?” she asked, hope for her and Simon gripping her.

  Jemma chuckled as she patted Anne’s hand. “We are all fools when we are in love, dearest.”

  “I never said I was in love,” Anne protested, though it was useless to deny it to herself. She had most definitely succumbed to Simon’s charms.

  “It’s in your eyes, Anne, and in the chances you have taken, and your laughter! It’s lovely to hear you laugh again. I was worried after Ian that you would never open your heart to another. I’m certain His Grace has an explanation about Ian, simply ask him.”

  “I feel certain now, too,” Anne replied. Actually, she felt as if a boulder had been lifted off her chest. It felt wonderful to give over her complete trust to him. Tomorrow, when she could see him, could not come soon enough.

  Later that afternoon, after Simon had taken his sisters home and learned from Perceval that Anne had been there, he sat in Rutledge’s study facing the man. He was smiling and looking rather like a well-fed cat. “Lady Fanny said all of that? Truly?”

  Simon nodded, repressing the urge to chuckle.

  “I have always thought her lovely,” Rutledge said, “but honestly, I never considered that I would be in a position to court her. But now…”

  “Now ye are,” Simon supplied for his friend. “And if ye find that ye suit…well, it will save the lady and ye may well end up with a wonderful wife. She seems bright and kindhearted, despite the mess she finds herself embroiled in.”

  “Do you mind,” Rutledge said, standing, “if I beg off the rest of this conversation and go call on Lady Fanny?”

  Simon did smile then. “I would be disappointed if ye did not,” he assured his friend and rose, as well. “I’ll see ye at the ball tomorrow night?”

  Rutledge nodded. “Perhaps you will see me dancing with Lady Fanny,” he said with a smile.

  Simon made his way home, though he really wished to go to see Anne. He knew at the moment it was impossible. Tomorrow night he would tell her how he intended to drive Frazier out of business, and then, perhaps, she would finally give her trust to him.

  He had never wanted something so much. Not revenge. Not success. Just Anne, with her wit and her kindness, and he realized with a bark of laughter that she had awoken much more than lust in him. He wanted Anne to be his.

  Fourteen

  “Simon!” Elizabeth wailed, bursting into his study late the next afternoon.

  He glanced up from his work to find Elizabeth waving a paper above
her head. She had a look of despair on her face, and Caitlin was right beside her with a scowl.

  “I take it something is distressing ye,” he said to Elizabeth, who tended toward the dramatic.

  Elizabeth’s answer was to plunk the paper she had been waving down in front of him. “This!” she cried out. “Just look at what has been written in the gossip column about ye and Lord Rutledge!”

  Unease filled him as he picked up the paper, and it quickly turned to anger and confusion as he read. The column was a diatribe against him and Rutledge. It painted them both as unscrupulous, blackhearted rakes, and it was signed the Sisterhood for the Ruination of Rogues. A group that he knew Anne belonged to. Simon set the paper down as his thoughts turned. Who would have written this?

  “Do ye think Lady Fanny wrote this?” Elizabeth asked. “She seemed so nice!”

  Simon shook his head. “No.” He was confident in the shy woman’s distress, plus writing such a column only served to stir the gossip surrounding her. He could not believe Anne would write such a thing, either, yet if she had been manipulating him to ruin him all along, as was the Sisterhood’s purpose…

  No, it would hurt Lady Fanny, as well as his sisters. He refused to believe Anne capable of such cruelty. But Lady Mary… He clenched his teeth on the curses he wanted to spew.

  “Perhaps we should not attend the ball,” Caitlin said.

  “No,” he immediately replied. “We will attend with our heads held high. I will sort this out, I promise ye.”

  “Oh, Simon! Do ye think Anne will believe the things written here?”

  He himself was unsure what to believe, and he certainly could not speak for Anne. All he could do was shrug helplessly.

  After allowing his sisters to scamper off in the company of the Duchess of Scarsdale, Simon stood, searching the crowded ballroom for Anne. As he weaved through the press of bodies, he had to pause to speak to each person who wanted to make his acquaintance. Normally, he would not have bothered to be so polite, especially when all he really wished to do was locate Anne, but given the gossip column and his sisters needing to make good matches, he talked briefly to each lord and lady who stopped him.

  It boggled his mind how many there were. He knew they all had to have read the newspaper, but it was Anne who had told him that the ton would look past her transgressions because of her large dowry. Apparently, they would ignore accusations of his being akin to the Devil, too, because of his duchy. It filled him with the same wariness he had felt toward women for so long, but this was now toward members of the English aristocracy in general. But Anne was different. He was certain of it.

  He swept his gaze across the ballroom once more and finally he saw her. She stood with her sister under a large chandelier looking dazzling in the same scandalous gold gown he had seen her in the other day. Their eyes locked, and a tentative smile came to her lips. Had she been searching for him, too? She said something to her sister, whose shrewd gaze locked on him, but the woman turned to Anne and nodded. Anne chuckled, never taking her eyes from him, inclined her head, and discreetly pointed toward a corridor to her right.

  Hope rushed through his veins, propelling him quickly through the crush but not so fast that his flight would be noticed. He did not want anyone to see him following Anne. The last thing he wanted was to bring a shadow to her reputation.

  Once he entered the corridor, he realized it was a portrait gallery. At the end of the gallery, a light shone from a room. He followed the light and stilled on the threshold of the room at the sight of Anne, waiting for him, her head cocked and fingers interlaced in front of her. There was a single portrait in the room, and it was of the Duchess of Aversley. The woman was stunning.

  “Aversley must worship his wife,” Simon said.

  “He does,” Anne replied. “They came together over a wager between His Grace and my brother-in-law, who is Amelia’s brother.”

  “I see,” Simon murmured, moving fully into the room while shutting the door behind him. “What was the wager?”

  Anne smiled. “That Aversley could make Amelia, who was a wallflower, into an Incomparable.”

  “Foolish man,” Simon said.

  “Foolish?” Anne asked, giving him a questioning look.

  “Aye.” He nodded and moved closer to Anne but did not take her hand as he wished to. “I’m certain she was already an Incomparable. She has a light in her eyes that is almost as bright as what shines in yers.”

  “Did you just call me an Incomparable?” she asked, her smile full and genuine this time.

  “Aye, I did. I want ye, Anne.”

  “To seduce and ruin?” she said, though her tone was teasing.

  “No,” he said, a certainty of what he wanted filling him. “To wed and cherish.”

  He was pleased to see her mouth part in shock. Finally, he had struck the daring lady speechless, as she had been doing to him all along.

  Anne could hardly believe she had heard Simon correctly. “You wish to wed me?”

  He grinned. “Aye, but perhaps I ought to court ye publicly first so there is not any gossip.”

  She struggled to repress her urge to throw herself into his arms and simply forget her questions about Ian. Simon had just said he wanted to wed her!

  “That is a most enticing offer that I dearly wish to accept.” The undeniable joy that touched Simon’s face warmed her all the way through. “But,” she rushed on, needing and wanting to put Simon’s original plot against her in the past, “why are you business partners with Ian Frazier?”

  When shock crossed Simon’s face, uneasiness stirred within Anne. “How did ye know about that?” he asked.

  Her uneasiness grew stronger. Dear heavens, had she been wrong about him? But no. She frowned. “Perhaps it’s best if you simply explain. You see, my imagination is on the verge of running quite rampant, and not in a good direction.”

  “It is not what ye think,” he said, sounding panicked. “I persuaded him to take me on as his sole lumber supplier for his new railroad so I can raise the price of my lumber so high that he must sell me his company to stay in business.” He paused. “I could not allow him to go unpunished for what he did to ye, Anne.”

  A rush of love for him overcame her. She could hardly believe what Simon had done for her.

  She rushed to him and threw herself into his arms. He immediately pulled her into his strong embrace and hugged her. She drew back, hoping he would kiss her.

  Instead he said, “What do ye know about the gossip column painting me and Rutledge as blackhearted rogues?”

  “What?” she gasped. “I don’t read the gossip columns. I had no idea.”

  “It was the feature today,” he said. He looked almost amused.

  “You find it funny?” she asked, baffled.

  “In a way,” he admitted. “Remember when ye said the ton would overlook yer transgressions because of yer dowry?”

  Anne did recall her words and she could not stop her laugher. “I imagine being a wealthy duke is even more enticement for them to look the other way. Whoever wrote that will be livid! I wonder—”

  “It was signed,” Simon interrupted her, “the Sisterhood for the Ruination of Rogues.”

  Anne felt her mouth part. “Simon!” she exclaimed, aghast. “I’m part of the Sisterhood.”

  “I know,” he replied with a smirk.

  Somehow that did not surprise her. “Mary is also part of it. I am certain it was her!”

  “I have my suspicions, as well,” Simon agreed.

  Anne quickly relayed her talk with her grandfather. “I have asked him to formally apologize to you for judging you and wronging you,” she told him.

  With that, Simon kissed her. It started soft and tender but quickly grew ravenous. Her heart began to pound as her body heated, and she feared she would not have the will to stop him should he want to take the kiss somewhere more scandalous. Just as she felt him start to pull away, the door behind them banged open.

  They broke apar
t and both turned toward the door as Mary marched in with a look of hatred on her face. “I knew it!” she hissed. “You’re a traitor to the Sisterhood and to me, Anne!” Mary flung out.

  Anne sucked in a sharp breath to blast Mary with, but Simon beat her to it. “Ye’re a liar and a deceiver,” he growled. “Ye know I never seduced ye.”

  “You cannot prove that,” Mary snapped. “Just as neither of you will be able to prove that I did not see you two in here in a lurid embrace! I will ruin you, Anne! And as for you, Simon—”

  “You will do no such thing!” Fanny burst in with Lord Rutledge at her side and a triumphant look upon her face. In her hand, she held what appeared to be a diary. “I have proof that you lied about His Grace seducing you, and I am willing to tell all who will listen that I lied about Rutledge seducing me and your part in ensuring I did so.”

  Lord Rutledge blinked at Fanny while taking her hand. “You would do that for me?”

  “That and more,” Fanny professed.

  The tenderness Anne saw between the two of them made her smile.

  “Give me my diary!” Mary shrieked, grasping for it.

  Simon snagged her by the arm and held her back. “I think not,” he scolded. “Tell me, Lady Fanny, does Lady Mary’s diary say why she lied about me?”

  Fanny nodded. “Oh yes. Right here!” She quickly turned to a dog-eared page and read aloud, “‘I stupidly slept with Roger, the stable hand, but I have a solution. I don’t wish to marry the decrepit Lord Darwimple, and Rowan will not listen to reason. I shall seduce the very attractive Simon who will one day be a duke…’” Fanny looked up, her eyes narrowed. “I could read the rest, but we all know what truly must have happened.”

  Simon released Mary and gave her a look that made Anne shiver. “Yer plots are exposed, Lady Mary.”

  Anne nodded. “His Grace had no interest in being seduced by you, and you lied to save yourself from Grandfather discovering you had slept with the stable hand!”

  “It is very good to finally hear the truth.” Grandfather appeared in the doorway. Anne felt Simon take her hand in his and pull her close as her grandfather walked toward them. He looked directly at Simon. “I owe you a heartfelt apology.”

 

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