Daring to Love the Duke's Heir

by Janice Preston

  Her smile was all graciousness. Did she have any clue that Liberty’s smile wasn’t genuine? It didn’t take Dominic long to realise that she did not. It was increasingly clear that none of Liberty’s comments or opinions mattered to Caroline because she quite clearly viewed Liberty—and Verity, too, although she barely joined the conversation—as utterly beneath her notice. She was polite and respectful—even delightful—in her dealings with Dominic, Alex, Olivia and Hugo, however.

  * * *

  It took the duration of that one supper for Dominic to change his mind about his list. A beautiful singing voice was no compensation for such arrogance. And how, he wondered, would someone such as Caroline respond to the spouses of his father, uncle and aunt? Rosalind, his stepmother, might be a duchess now, but her father was a simple soldier and her grandfather a silversmith. Thea, Uncle Vernon’s wife, was the daughter of a glassmaker, and Zach, Aunt Cecily’s husband—who refused to allow anyone to call him uncle—had a Romany mother. Dominic would never risk introducing discord into his beloved family.

  He was still hesitant about Georgiana and her fear of horses, which left him with Lady Sybilla Gratton.

  As they finished their supper, Gideon appeared behind Liberty and Verity.

  ‘I thought you said Verity was having supper with Bridlington, Liberty?’ he said, accusingly. ‘I’ve been searching everywhere for them... Mrs Mount didn’t seem to know where they were and neither did Hope and now, after worrying the life out of me, I find she’s been with you the whole time!’

  Liberty’s cheeks flushed. ‘If you had done your duty as I asked, you would have known precisely where she was.’

  Verity jumped to her feet. ‘You are being unfair, Gideon.’ She grasped his arm, and lowered her voice. ‘I was due to have supper with him, but...but...’

  She cast an anxious look around the table, then put her lips to her brother’s ear. As she whispered, Gideon’s face leached of colour and his gaze sought Dominic’s as one hand came to rest on Liberty’s shoulder.

  ‘I am sorry, Sis. I shouldn’t have sounded off at you... I was worried when I couldn’t find them. And I am grateful to you, Avon. You can be sure I’ll have something to say to Bridlington next time our paths cross.’ He put his arm around Verity and hugged her. ‘Are you all right? Do you want to go home? I’ll take you, if you do.’

  ‘No.’ Verity raised her chin and Dominic recognised the family resemblance with Liberty in that defiant gesture. ‘I shall not allow that...that...scoundrel...to spoil my enjoyment of my first-ever ball.’

  Alert to the nuances of Liberty’s expression, Dominic saw her pride at her sister’s strength and then, as her gaze met and held that of her twin, love shone from her eyes. Then a tut and a sigh sounded from behind him and he sensed movement. Caroline, her lips thinly disapproving, was preparing to leave the table. He stood up and pulled her chair back.

  ‘Allow me.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  She smiled at him and held out her hand. Dominic helped her to rise and then she placed her hand on his sleeve, clearly expecting his escort back to the ballroom. He breathed a sigh of relief when he returned her to her mother and then sought out Hope, his next partner. But throughout the dance he was distracted, watching Liberty, who was dancing with Redbridge—that incorrigible tattletale—and laughing up at him.

  ‘You are dancing with Liberty next, I believe, my lord?’

  The question jerked his attention away from Liberty and back to Hope, who was studying him with something like speculation in her eyes. Drat the girl.

  ‘I am. I apologise for neglecting you, Miss Lovejoy. Seeing your sister with Lord Redbridge reminded me of a matter I must discuss with him, but that is no excuse for ignoring my partner.’

  He set himself to entertaining Hope and, by the end of the dance, he thought his distraction a success. They reached Mrs Mount at the same time as Redbridge and Liberty, who was beaming all over her face. Hadn’t anyone ever told her it was unladylike to exhibit an excess of emotion? He could not tear his gaze from her as he wondered who had conjured up such a ridiculous rule. And, more importantly, why?

  He bit down his irritation at Redbridge for encouraging Liberty and then had to bite it back even harder when he noticed Hope looking from him to Liberty and back again. He didn’t try to interpret her expression, he just concentrated on blanking his own.

  * * *

  It was a relief when it was time for the next dance and he could lead Liberty on to the dance floor.

  ‘Why did you ask me to waltz?’

  Liberty gazed up at Dominic, her eyes smiling although her lips were serious. Dominic’s fingers flexed on her waist, holding her more securely as they entered their first turn. The truthful answer was that he did not know. The words had slipped from his lips before his brain could stop them. But he didn’t regret his impulse—she felt so right in his arms. If only... He quashed that wish before it could fully form. There was no if only. Not for him. He knew his duty to the Dukedom. To his father. To his mother.

  As ever, the thought of his mother conjured forth that feeling of never quite being good enough. If she had lived, what would she think of the man he had become? Would she, finally, be proud? His chest tightened as he recalled the last time he had seen his mother—the only time in his eight years he could remember any spontaneous gesture of affection from her. It was her custom to walk around the lake every day when she was at home at the Abbey and, that day, Dominic had asked if he might go with her. Rather than the brusque refusal he expected, she had smiled at him and patted his cheek.

  ‘Mr Brockley will be waiting for you, Dominic, but—if you are good and pay attention in your lessons—maybe we can go out again later.’

  Later had never come. He had never seen his mother again and the memory of that last encounter had, over the years, helped to fuel his determination to fulfil his destiny.

  He wrenched his thoughts out of the past—Liberty awaited his answer...why had he asked her to waltz? He gazed into her midnight-blue eyes, breathed in the scent of roses...now not solely his mother’s preserve, but that of Liberty Lovejoy as well. Mother wouldn’t approve of Liberty, that was for sure. But it was only one waltz.

  ‘Why not?’ he countered.

  ‘Well, now. Let me see. Maybe because this is the cautious Lord Avon who is intent on selecting the perfect bride to complete his perfect life and who appears to conduct his entire life with the sole purpose of protecting his reputation?’

  He strove to keep his expression blank at her succinct summation of his life.

  ‘So cautious, in fact,’ she continued, ‘that I have heard it whispered that he never dances twice with the same young lady. And yet this is our second dance this evening.’

  He hid his surprise. ‘You will note, however, that I have engaged several young ladies to dance with me twice this evening.’

  Their gazes fused, her blue eyes knowing. ‘I also noted that the other engagements followed mine as you sought to divert attention from your uncharacteristic slip.’

  ‘Slip?’

  ‘You masked it well, my lord, but I saw the shock in your eyes in the split second after you asked me to waltz. Were I a more generous person, I would have refused that impulsive offer, but I could not resist accepting, if only to see how you would manage your mistake.’

  ‘It was no mistake. I did and I do want to waltz with you, Liberty Lovejoy.’

  He heard her quick intake of breath and, without volition, his hand tightened on hers and his other hand slid further around her waist, drawing her closer. Caution clamoured through his brain, but he ignored it.

  ‘You...’ Her voice sounded breathless. ‘You are unused to acting on impulse, I would guess.’

  ‘A man in my position cannot afford to act on impulse.’

  She stayed silent and a quick glance down revealed a wrinkled foreh
ead.

  ‘You are puzzled?’

  Her head snapped up. ‘No. Not puzzled. Sad.’

  ‘Sad?’

  He felt her shrug. ‘It must be an uncomfortable existence, to be forever on your guard, wary of how you appear to others.’

  Her words came close to his earlier thoughts about ridiculous rules, but they were a fact of life. His life, in any case. ‘That is the world we live in. That is what it means to be part of the haut ton. But, to return to your original question, I asked you to waltz because it is a chance to talk uninterrupted. With no risk of being overheard.’

  Her eyebrows arched. ‘You wanted the opportunity to talk to me without being overheard? Why, Lord Avon...’ she batted her eyelashes at him ‘...what can you possibly have to say to me that ought not to be overheard?’ She tilted her head, her lips closer to his ear. ‘Will I be shocked?’

  Her breath on his skin raised the hairs at his nape. He was playing with fire. His common sense warned him to keep his distance. But something deep inside him—something older, baser, more primeval—now challenged the innate caution that had been part of his character for as long as he could remember...challenged it square on, with raised fists and a desire to knock it out. But, he reasoned, as long as he managed to keep that challenger under control, there was no reason why he could not indulge in a little flirtation.

  ‘It depends, Miss Lovejoy, on how easily you are shocked.’

  His voice sounded husky. Deep. And he felt Liberty’s reaction. He had intended to shock her and it seemed he was successful.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Tell me what happened with Verity and Lord Bridlington.’

  Dominic bit back a smile. For all her boldness a moment ago, that change of subject revealed much about Liberty’s true character, even though she might flirt a little and take risks.

  ‘You know what happened. I told you.’

  ‘You punched him? Did he hit you back?’

  ‘No. He knew he was in the wrong. He was caught before any damage was done and he will accept he has lost.’

  She frowned. ‘Should I be worried? Will he target Verity again?’

  ‘I doubt it. He is an opportunist. He viewed Verity as easy prey with no father to protect her and a brother who appeared not to care less. He knows differently now. He will turn his attention to someone less well protected, especially after Gideon speaks to him, as he promised he will.’

  She shivered. ‘I did not realise there are such men in the ton, masquerading as gentlemen.’

  ‘I am afraid there are such men in all walks of life.’

  ‘I am so grateful you saw him and stopped him.’

  ‘It was my pleasure.’

  Her smile did strange things to him. It was the tremble of her lip—it was not artifice, he was certain—and it was the hint of vulnerability in her eyes, the deep breath she often took before replying to a comment, as if steeling herself. The truth hit him like a lightning strike. She acted and spoke boldly, but it was not boldness but bravery. She found the courage from somewhere to stand up for those she loved and for what she believed in.

  He didn’t want to admire her. Wasn’t the ever-present lust enough for him to fight against? It felt as though his well-ordered, meticulously planned life was spinning out of control. He clenched his jaw, set her at the correct distance from him and concentrated on the steps of the waltz even as the scent of roses wove magic through his veins.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following afternoon Liberty was about to set out on the short walk to Grosvenor Square when Gideon descended the staircase. She took a minute to admire him—he was so handsome and he looked a proper gentleman in his blue superfine coat, cream breeches and polished Hessians. She frowned. She had grown accustomed to him staying out until dawn and then sleeping most of the day away. Since their arrival in London it seemed that the only times she’d seen him this early in the day he had been unshaven and wearing a dressing robe and slippers. But last night he had escorted his sisters home and, it would appear, gone straight to bed.

  ‘You look very smart, Gideon.’

  A faint flag of colour washed over his cheeks. ‘I intend to call on Lady Twyford, to pay my respects and to thank her for last night’s entertainment.’

  ‘Ah.’ Of course. Gideon had spent much of his time in a group of young men surrounding Lady Emily Crighton, Lord Twyford’s eldest daughter. And joined her for supper. ‘Please extend my gratitude as well—it was kind of them to invite us.’

  ‘Well, I have no doubt the invitations will roll in apace, now you’ve established yourself as part of the Beauchamps’ inner circle.’

  Stung by the implication she was a social climber, Liberty finished pulling on her second glove before she trusted herself to answer him.

  ‘I hope you know me better than to think I would pretend friendship with someone simply for advancement.’

  She held her twin’s gaze, hating that he might think that of her. Particularly when her sole reason for approaching Jane last night had been to inveigle an introduction to Alex and the reason for that was standing in front of her looking positively angelic.

  Gideon looked away first.

  ‘No. Of course you would not. And I’m sorry, again, for not listening when you warned me about Bridlington. I’ll be sure to speak to him when I next see him, but I trust Avon when he said Verity isn’t in any danger now. But enough of that. Where are you off to? And where are the others? You’re not...’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me you are not going out alone?’

  That was exactly what she had intended. It was such a short walk to Beauchamp House—just around the corner, really—that she hadn’t even considered the impropriety until Gideon asked his question. Dominic’s words whispered through her brain: If you bring disgrace upon yourself, it is your sisters who will suffer.

  She put her nose in the air. ‘Of course I am not going out alone, Gideon. I was on the brink of sending for one of the maids to accompany me but, as you are here now, you may escort me yourself.’

  Gideon scowled. ‘I ain’t going shopping with you, if that’s where you’re off to. I told you. I’m calling on E—Lady Twyford.’

  ‘Well, for your information, I am not going shopping. I have been invited to Beauchamp House to meet Lady Olivia’s children.’ Liberty snaked her arm around Gideon’s and headed for the door, towing him with her. ‘It is barely out of your way at all.’

  ‘Very well.’

  They were soon strolling in the direction of Grosvenor Square.

  ‘Gideon.’ It was rare lately that she had the chance to speak to him privately. She could not pass up the opportunity and, for once, he was not suffering the consequences of either overindulgence or lack of sleep. ‘I have been worried about you.’

  ‘I know. You’ve made that very clear.’

  ‘That actress...’

  He halted and frowned down at her. ‘What,’ he said, menacingly, ‘do you know about her?’

  ‘I am not a fool! I know you haven’t been haunting the Sans Pareil for the quality of the performances.’

  He growled, deep in his throat, then continued to walk. ‘I cannot believe I am having this conversation with my sister. Listen, Liberty—you must stop thinking you can dictate where I go or what I do.’

  ‘I am not trying to dictate to you. I—I just want you—all of you—to be safe. And happy.’

  Gideon slipped his arm around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Lib. Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault they died.’

  Her heart clenched. ‘I—I know.’

  ‘And it doesn’t mean it is your responsibility to protect all of us. I am a grown man and I can look after myself.’

  ‘I know that, too.’

  He raised his brows. ‘Do you? Look...yes, I visit the theatre, but...it is just a bit of fun. I am at no risk. You say you are not a f
ool. Well, neither am I—I am a peer now and I’m aware of my obligations. And before you complain again about me frittering my fortune away, believe me when I tell you I can afford a few losses at the gaming tables.’

  If only she could fully believe him. It seemed the habit of protecting her family, especially her beloved twin, would not be satisfied that easily. Wisely, she did not say so.

  Gideon sighed and slanted a smile at her, his blue eyes glinting. ‘I also admit it will not help Hope and Verity to find decent husbands if I continue to set the gossips’ tongues alight. So, I shall henceforth be the soul of discretion—I shall still have fun and enjoy myself, but I shall do so well away from the public gaze.’

  They had arrived at Beauchamp House and the door opened before Gideon could knock, giving Liberty no chance to reply. A haughty-looking butler peered out, looking down his long nose at her.

  ‘Miss Lovejoy. Lady Olivia is expecting me.’

  The butler’s gaze slid to Gideon, perused him from head to toe, then stood back and bowed.

  ‘Please come in, Miss Lovejoy; my Lord Wendover.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not coming in—just wanted to see my sister safely delivered. I’ll see you at dinner, Lib.’

  Liberty watched Gideon walk away, whistling a jaunty tune, leaving Liberty to enter alone. She paused on the threshold, remembering the last time she had called at this house, and a smile tugged at her lips as she recalled her efforts to dodge the footman.

  ‘Ahem.’

  The butler raised one brow and Liberty wiped any hint of amusement from her features before entering the hall.

  ‘Lady Olivia is expecting you, Miss Lovejoy. Please follow me.’

  He led the way up the magnificent marble staircase to a parlour on the first floor—a cosy and informal room and not nearly as grand as the room into which Dominic had shown her. Olivia was sitting on a sofa, her legs tucked up under her, reading. She looked up, smiled and set her book aside.

  ‘I am so pleased to see you, Liberty. Thank you for coming. Grantham, please inform Mrs Himley that my guest has arrived and she may send up refreshments. Now—’ as the butler left the room ‘—come and sit by me... I asked Ruth to bring the twins down after we have drunk our tea—lively two-year-olds and cups of hot liquid are a poor combination.’