A Most Unlikely Duke

by Sophie Barnes

  Satisfied that the creature was well taken care of, she took a seat at her desk, pulled out a clean sheet of paper and was just about to set the tip of her quill to it when there was a soft knock at the door. Anna entered upon her command. “This just arrived for you, my lady. I think it might be from your sister. It looks like her penmanship.”

  Taking the letter, Gabriella tore open the seal and read with haste, her eyes flying across the words. And as she absorbed the message, her heart plummeted, crumpling like the piece of paper she held, scrunched in the palm of her hand.

  Chapter 24

  “I must confess that I was surprised to hear from you, more so to receive an invitation to this fine establishment,” Raphe told Coventry when he met him at White’s that evening. He was of a similar height to Raphe, with sand-colored hair and a welcoming expression, though perhaps a few years older.

  “You haven’t been here before?” A waiter arrived to take their orders, returning shortly after with two glasses of brandy.

  “I don’t get out much due to my unpopularity.”

  Sipping his drink, Coventry leaned back against the leather armchair he occupied, crossed his legs, and studied Raphe with a sly smile. “You’re different from the norm, I’ll give you that. Unlike most aristocrats, I find that intriguing, rather than horrifying.”

  Raphe raised a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t belong to any clubs, scholastic or otherwise.”

  “I know. It makes your story—this sudden acquisition of a duke’s title and wealth—even more fascinating.” He must have seen Raphe clench his muscles, for he immediately waved his hand dismissively and added, “I don’t judge. In fact, I’m sure you’re more deserving of it than anyone else.”

  “You have me at a loss.” He couldn’t possibly be serious.

  Coventry carelessly shrugged his shoulders. “The fact that you’ve put Society on edge is telling. I quite admire it, in fact—especially since I’m of the opinion that it could do with a bit of a shake.” He flicked a piece of invisible lint from his trousers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak with you at greater length the other evening during the ball, but my attention was in high demand and—well, here we are.”

  “I’m still not sure of why you invited me to join you,” Raphe said. There had to be an angle. “Surely, a man like you doesn’t lack company.”

  “True. But it’s the quality of the company that’s important.” He sounded bored. “The men and women of my acquaintance are mostly the same—paper cutouts who shop at the same shops, exchange the same gossip, and think the same thoughts. They’re completely unoriginal.”

  “So—” Raphe took a second to ponder this new piece of information. “You seek a change of pace, and you hope that I might provide that?”

  “Partly.” He tilted his head. “For starters, I’d like to know more about where you grew up, because rumor has it that it wasn’t where you claim it was.”

  Raphe stilled, his eyes pinned on Coventry’s. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “Because if you do, I’ll help you end the engagement between Lady Gabriella and Fielding.” With a grin, he tossed back the rest of his drink and refilled his glass. “I hear you’ve some interest there.”

  “You certainly hear a lot,” Raphe murmured.

  The duke shrugged. “Word gets around.”

  “What I don’t understand is how cordial you were with Fielding when you were last at his house for dinner. I mean, if you dislike him so much that you wish to ruin his engagement . . . it just seems a bit odd.”

  “Perhaps, but then again one does have a greater advantage over one’s enemies when they remain unaware of one’s true feelings. I plan to catch Fielding by surprise, you see, but I also intend to take something from him—something he values.” He gave a crooked smile. “Your desire to win Lady Gabriella for yourself is something of an opportunity.”

  Still hesitant, but increasingly intrigued, Raphe leaned forward and set his half-empty glass on the table. “I’m not a simpleton, Coventry. Don’t think you can take advantage of me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He studied Raphe for a moment. “Why don’t you start by telling me a bit more about yourself. You said you’ve never received formal schooling, but you didn’t claim to lack an education.”

  “I’m self-taught,” Raphe explained before listing the subjects of his interest and telling Coventry how he’d traded old books for new ones in order to learn as much as possible.

  “That’s very determined of you. I must say I’m quite impressed.”

  “Thank you,” Raphe muttered. “Nobody else seems to be.” Which wasn’t entirely true, he reflected, considering Gabriella.

  “They’re idiots,” Coventry said. “Or rather, their way of thinking is idiotic. You might find this hard to believe, but I would welcome the opportunity to remove myself from the pack and try something different—expand my horizons, so to speak.”

  “Without inviting scandal, I’d imagine,” Raphe said, still unsure of what to make of the odd contradiction of the man who sat before him.

  “I have my reputation to uphold.” Coventry stated simply. “There’s a limit to what I can allow myself to do.”

  “Perhaps you should try boxing,” Raphe suggested. “It can be wonderfully rewarding to fight an opponent—your strength against his—the harnessing and releasing of energy.”

  “You speak as though from experience.” Coventry hesitated a moment, his eyes lingering on Raphe’s before asking, “Have you heard of Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Academy, over on Bond Street? I know a few men who go there for sport, but I’ve always had the impression that it’s mostly for show—that they’re all too polite to actually hit each other properly. So I never bothered with it myself.”

  Raphe took a sip of his drink and considered the idea that sprang to mind. He’d liked Coventry from the moment he’d met him. He hadn’t sneered or judged. Instead, he offered friendship. Raphe knew he’d be a fool not to welcome it, so he set his glass down and said, “Well, if you’re interested, we can visit the place together. I could actually do with a sparring partner, so if you’re willing . . .”

  “Thank you, Huntley. I think that sounds like an excellent idea indeed—finally something real for me to sink my teeth into.”

  “As for Lady Gabriella,” Raphe said, “I would like to ask that you refrain from interfering.”

  “Are you certain?”

  Raphe gave him a decisive nod. “Absolutely.” As amicable as Coventry seemed, he didn’t know him well enough to let him interfere with his affairs. If there was a way for him and Gabriella to be together, Raphe would find it on his own.

  Boxing with Coventry the next day turned out to be precisely what Raphe needed in order to expel some of the frustration he felt about Gabriella.

  “You need to learn how to harness your anger,” he told Coventry as they took a break to catch their breaths. “Otherwise, you’re just hitting with a repetitiveness that’ll tire you out before giving you the result you crave.” He’d then shown the duke a variety of different punches for him to practice, while others looked on with interest. Coventry had been right in his assumptions about the club. Most of the gentlemen here just stood in one spot while loosely hitting a small leather bag. They’d have little success against a real opponent.

  “Can we call it a day?” Coventry asked an hour later. “I’m not accustomed to this much exertion. Not that I don’t like it. I have to admit that I haven’t had this much fun in ages, but I think I need to build my stamina slowly.”

  “You’re right,” Raphe told him. “I forget that I’m more used to such vigorous exercise than most people.”

  “Yes. It does appear as though you are.” They made their way toward the changing room so they could freshen up and put on clean shirts. “Why is that?”

  Raphe hesitated, then decided to risk a bit of the truth. “I lost my parents when I was eight and grew up poor. When I got older, I started boxing for a liv
ing.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Coventry murmured. He gave Raphe a broad grin. “I knew you were interesting, Huntley, but this is better than I’d ever expected.” Removing his sweaty shirt, Coventry reached for his clean one and pulled it over his head. “Why don’t you come by my house for a drink. It’ll give us a chance to talk and get to know each other better.”

  Raphe hesitated. “Will you tell me why you offered to help me ruin things for Fielding?” He’d been curious about that ever since Coventry brought it up.

  The duke’s eyes darkened. “I’m afraid that’s a secret I cannot share since there are other people involved. Suffice it to say that the man crossed me once, and that I’ve never forgiven him for it.”

  When Raphe returned home that afternoon, he was greeted by a pale-faced Pierson. “What is it?” Raphe instantly asked, fearing for his sisters.

  Pierson stepped hastily back, ushering him inside. “Lady Gabriella is here. She’s waiting for you in the parlor. Has been here for the past couple of hours.”

  Frowning, Raphe handed over his hat and satchel containing his dirty clothes, and went in search of his guest. Pierson wasn’t usually one to look frazzled, which naturally stirred a whole string of questions in Raphe’s head. Finding the room, he stepped inside and shut the door. Propriety be damned—as usual.

  And then he saw her, and his heart sank. She was sitting on the sofa—right where she’d been when he’d kissed her. Except she looked very different now, her body hunched over as if in pain while she clutched a piece of paper between her hands. Hearing him enter, she raised her head to display a pair of red-rimmed eyes and a quivering smile. “I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke.

  And in that moment, Raphe felt his heart expand and break at the same exact moment. Because here she was, placing her faith in him, with the conviction that somehow, whatever her troubles might be, he’d be able to fix them for her. But at the same time, he could not bear to see her so distraught without a hint of the laughing eyes he’d grown so fond of. He stepped toward the spot where she was sitting, lowered himself beside her, and pulled her gently into his arms. “Shh . . .” he whispered against the top of her head. “Just tell me what happened, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

  A moment passed before she drew a shuddering breath and leaned back. “I received a letter from my sister, Victoria, today.” She raised the piece of paper she was holding. “My maid delivered it to me in secret.”

  “I take it the news wasn’t good?”

  Wincing, Gabriella shook her head. “It is the worst possible news I could have received.” With a sob, she put her hand to her mouth, as if to hold back the torrent of emotion that consumed her. “Mr. Connolly, the businessman who married her, abandoned her almost a year ago. Apparently, he took her dowry and fled the country, leaving her not only penniless, but alone with child.”

  It was indeed a terrible scenario. Determined to hide his anger for Gabriella’s sake, Raphe calmly asked, “Where is your sister now? Did she give you an address? Some means by which to contact her?”

  “Yes—there is a street name here, with directions.” She pointed to a spot on the paper.

  Taking it from her, Raphe studied the elegant script and then grimaced. “I know this place. It’s in St. Giles.” Not an appropriate place for an earl’s daughter by any stretch of the imagination. “We have to get her out of there. Have you spoken to your father?”

  “No! Of course not, or I would not be here asking for your assistance.” She dropped her gaze. “Victoria asked that I not mention this to him. I’ve decided to respect her wishes until I know exactly what happened to leave her in such a dreadful state.”

  “Very well then,” Raphe told her firmly. “I will set out immediately in order to find her, and once I do, I shall bring her here so that you may speak with her.”

  Raising her head, her eyes met his with a remarkable degree of strength for a cultured lady of breeding. Whatever fear or misgiving had been there before, it had swiftly been replaced by steel. “If you think I will sit here and passively wait for your return, then you are mistaken.” She rose. “I am coming with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” he said as he got to his feet as well. “St. Giles is no place for a lady. It’s bad enough that yer sister is there, but yer father will murder me, and rightfully so, if ‘e finds out that I allowed ‘is daughter to go traipsin’ through that part of town.” God damn it! She’d riled him to such a degree that his roughened tongue was running away with him again.

  “She’s my sister!” She jabbed a finger at his chest.

  “An’ ye came to me fer ‘elp. So let me do me job an’ bring ’er back safe.”

  Crossing her arms, she glared at him with menace in her eyes, which to his consternation, Raphe found strangely arousing. “If you refuse to take me with you in your carriage, I shall find the place by myself. Is that what you want?”

  “Christ, woman!” He wanted to grab her, shake her, talk some sense into her. Arguing with her was impossible, though. She was simply too bloody stubborn. “Ye’ll do as I say, an’ ye’ll stay by me side. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly, Raphe.” Her expression eased—a calm after the storm—and then she stepped forward and touched her lips to his, setting off a series of sparks with that simple gesture. “Thank you. I will never forget your kindness.”

  Chapter 25

  Comfortably seated in the ducal carriage, Gabriella waited for Huntley to issue instructions to his coachman before climbing in and claiming the opposite seat. “I fear this will prove to be a very bad idea,” he murmured.

  “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” she told him sharply, annoyed by his comment.

  His dark eyes pinned her to the plushly upholstered squabs. “Have you ever visited that part of town before?”

  “No.” Her parents had always restricted her outings to Mayfair proper. Even when they left London for the country, they travelled north past Regents Park, avoiding any travel through the less favorable parts of the city.

  “Then ye’ve no idea what to expect,” he said with no effort to speak in a cultured tone. “Ye did the right thing, comin’ to me. Ye’ll see that soon enough.”

  Knowing that he was probably right, she turned her head away and stared out of the window as the carriage started along. She didn’t like being difficult or sounding ungrateful, especially since he could easily have refused to help her. He didn’t owe her, after all, and considering what she knew of him, it might not be easy for him to return to a place that probably held bad memories for him. But the fear she felt for Victoria, the shock of discovering that she was living in squalor, abandoned by her husband, filled her with such anxiety that she found herself turning into an impossible person to deal with.

  Raphe didn’t deserve that. His kindness and sympathy and concern for her safety demanded her appreciation. So she took a breath and let it out slowly, feeling some of her tension dissipate. “I apologize,” she told him softly. Turning her head away from the window, she looked at him. His expression was tightly drawn, his mouth set in a strict line. “I’m grateful to you for agreeing to help, and for letting me come along with you.”

  “You gave me little choice.” His voice was hard.

  “She’s my sister,” Gabriella said. She could feel that awful tightening of her throat again as her eyes began to burn. “Please try to understand.”

  “Of course I understand!” Leaning forward, he grasped her hand. “Understanding is not the issue. Don’t ye see?”

  She shook her head, unable to look away from the depth of his gaze.

  “Just as ye fear for her, I fear for ye. If word of this little expedition gets out, the consequences will be dire.”

  She studied his face; that dear face that filled her thoughts whenever she wasn’t with him. His eyes were overflowing with aching emotion, making her wonder . . . would he welcome the declaration of love she plann
ed on making? Did he perhaps feel the same way? Her heart stuttered slightly in response to that thought, her nerves drawing tight. I have to tell him what’s in my heart. “I—”

  The carriage rolled to a sharp halt and Raphe looked out. “We’re here,” he announced. Removing his hat, he set it on the bench beside him and then removed his cravat to reveal the bare skin that dipped toward his collarbone.

  Gabriella swallowed, the tips of her fingers already itching to reach out and touch him. “What are you doing?”

  “Blending in as best as I can, considerin’ me well-tailored clothes,” he said as he reached up to scuff his hair, creating an untidy mess of haphazard locks.

  Gabriella’s mouth went dry. There was no denying the appeal he exuded when he tossed aside his gentlemanly appearance in favor of a more rugged one. As far as masculinity went, Raphe topped the list, his solid build and virility so potent it made Gabriella feel small and fragile by comparison. “Well, you, err—seem to be doing a good job of it.” Lord, she sounded like a nitwit!

  He gave her a curious look. “Stay here,” he ordered before opening the carriage door and stepping out into the shadowy alley beyond.

  Gabriella breathed a sigh of relief. As desperate as she was to find her sister and discover what had happened to her, she also needed a reprieve from Raphe, however brief. Leaning back against the squabs, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on bringing her racing heart under control. They were here to see Victoria—to figure out what had happened to her. Now was not the time to be letting her feelings for Raphe distract her. She had to stay calm, for her sister’s sake. The carriage door opened again, bringing Raphe’s face into view. “I have found her.” The sympathy in his eyes was no comfort. He held up his hand. “Come. Let me take you to her.”

  Discarding her internal struggles for now, Gabriella placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her alight, the acrid stench in the air immediately assaulting her senses and making her flinch. “Dear God,” she murmured, her feet slipping slightly against the greasy cobblestones.