Daring to Love the Duke's Heir

by Janice Preston

  Dominic had spent his life conforming to what was expected of a man of his birthright precisely in order to protect his father from pain and anxiety. He was not about to change now.

  Besides. He glanced over at Liberty. All that ‘follow your heart’ nonsense was just that. Nonsense. Pure, honest-to-goodness lust was the driving force behind his craving for Liberty Lovejoy. Without volition, his gaze slid over her, lingering on her full breasts, outlined by the snug fit of her dove-grey riding habit. Everything about her sent desire racing through his bloodstream, but he could rise above that visceral response. He’d done it before, often and often.

  He’d made his choice. Lady Sybilla. She was twenty-one years old—no green girl on the town for the first time. He’d met her many times, during the Season and at house parties out of season, and she had never put an elegantly shod foot out of place. She was beautiful, reserved, well-mannered, a graceful dancer and an accomplished rider and she deferred to a man’s opinion just as she ought.

  He frowned, sneaking another sideways look at Liberty. No one could ever accuse her of deferring to a man’s opinion simply because of his sex. If she thought her opinion was right, she had absolutely no compunction in voicing it. Much like the rest of the females in his family, he mused, except, maybe, Aunt Cecily...until she met Zach and had changed from the quiet, compliant lady Dominic had always known. He frowned. Aunt Cecily, it turned out, had not been truly happy all those years when she was raising her brother’s children. She’d been content, but not happy. Not fulfilled. But she had never said so.

  Would Liberty end up the same? A maiden aunt, quashing her own desires and deferring to her brother and sisters? He shook those thoughts away. It was her decision...there was nothing to stop her marrying if she chose to, even though the thought of her with another man sent anger spiking through his veins.

  ‘Why do you care about my choice? Or when I intend to make my offer?’

  He thrust down the voice that reminded him that she had kissed him. Passionately. Of course she cared. Probably more than she should and more than he deserved.

  ‘You are my friend. I care about you... I want you to be happy.’

  ‘I shall be happy.’ His reply came by rote.

  She shook her head at him, then smiled. Her pearly teeth sent waves of longing crashing through him and he wrenched his gaze from hers with a silent snarl at his rampant lust.

  ‘We have become serious,’ she said. ‘Come. Let us enjoy our time together for, once you make your announcement, I make no doubt you will be far too busy with your betrothed to spend time riding in the Park with me.’ Was it his imagination, or did her voice hitch, just a little? ‘The ride is less crowded here,’ she continued gaily. ‘Let us canter.’

  She didn’t wait for his reply, but set off and, after a moment’s hesitation, Dominic sent Vulcan in her wake.

  * * *

  Beauchamp House was alight with chatter and laughter when Dominic arrived at six that evening. He entered the salon and paused, unnoticed for a few moments, just taking in his family...the smiles on their faces as they caught up with one another’s news. The children, too, were there, together with their nursemaids who would whisk them away once dinner was announced. His two-year-old half-brother, Sebastian, was the first to see him.

  ‘Dominic!’

  He scurried across the room, closely pursued by his older sister, Christabel. Dominic swung Sebastian up and around, the boy’s dress flaring out, his chubby legs kicking in delight as he giggled. Dominic planted a kiss on his cheek, then settled him under one arm as he scooped up Christabel with the other. Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed her hot cheek against his.

  ‘I love you, Dominic. You’re my bestest brother.’

  ‘I love you, too, sweetie-pie!’ Dominic hugged her close for a minute, then groaned theatrically and staggered. ‘Help! Help me! I... I... I can’t hold these monsters any longer!’

  The conversation had paused as everyone watched the byplay then, accompanied by more laughter, Father strode forward and plucked Christabel from Dominic’s arms.

  ‘I told you not to eat so much, Christy—you’ve reduced your big brother to a quivering wreck.’

  He cradled her in one arm and freed his other to tickle her. She shrieked and squirmed.

  ‘Papa! No! Mama! Help!’

  Dominic’s stepmother, Rosalind, came up with a smile. As he kissed her in greeting, she said, ‘I might have known you would reduce our ordered gathering to chaos as soon as you arrived, Dominic. It is good to see you, though.’ She turned to Father. ‘Let me take her, Leo, or Penny will complain they’re too excited to sleep.’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace.’ Leo handed his daughter over to Rosalind and gave her a mock salute.

  Dominic’s adopted sister, Susie—now thirteen and growing up into a serious, studious girl—came over to take charge of Sebastian and order reigned once more.

  ‘How are you, my Son?’ Father’s silver gaze—so like Dominic’s—scanned him. ‘Are these rumours I’ve heard true?’

  Trust Father to know what was going on in advance and to have no compunction in raising the matter. He always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone else.

  Dominic forced a nonchalant shrug. ‘There are always rumours. Have you taken to listening to gossip now, Father?’

  Tell him! Get it over with!

  ‘Ah, well. I dare say I have it wrong.’

  His tone suggested otherwise, but Father merely slung his arm across Dominic’s shoulders and they joined the rest of the family. Dominic sought out Olivia, Hugo and Alex one by one and sent each of them a look of warning. This was his business—it was not their place to pre-empt him. Not that Alex was likely to, as he rarely voluntarily spoke to Father, but Olivia...she was a very different matter. She returned his look with an innocent lift of her eyebrows, but Dominic thought she would stay silent, not least because she had made it clear she did not approve of any of the ladies on his shortlist.

  He stood to one side of the room, drinking, and he watched his family, paying particular attention to Rosalind and Olivia as they interacted with their children and their husbands, trying to picture Sybilla in that role. Then he tried to imagine her fitting in with his family as they chattered together, laughing and teasing. But he could not imagine her behaving with such informality, even in a family setting. Liberty, though...

  He thrust her image away, clenching his jaw. Perhaps one of the others would be a better choice? After all, nobody knew he had selected Sybilla. Apart from Liberty and she would not tell anyone. He tried to put any one of those ladies into this scenario, but the only face that surfaced in his imagination was Liberty Lovejoy’s.

  ‘Things on your mind, Dom?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you made your choice yet? Have you been picturing her here in the bosom of our family?’

  It was too close to the truth. Dominic drained his wine glass. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Alex leaned closer. ‘Father knows. Look at him. He’s waiting for you to broach the subject.’

  ‘He told you that, did he?’ Irritation with Alex prompted him to add, ‘Or did you somehow let it slip during one of your cosy father-and-son chats?’

  One corner of Alex’s mouth lifted in a half-smile that roused Dominic’s guilt. He was normally careful not to enflame his brother’s hostility towards their father.

  ‘Unworthy, Brother. You should know by now the Duke doesn’t need to be told things...he just knows.’

  Again, Dominic was conscious of his father’s gaze on him even though he carefully avoided looking in his direction. He signalled to William, who crossed the room to fill his glass again. As soon as the footman was out of earshot, Alex turned serious.

  ‘Dom. Listen to me. Don’t tie yourself to any of ’em. Not yet. Any fool can see your heart isn’t in it—’

&nb
sp; ‘The heart is irrelevant, Alexander. I make decisions with my head. With logic and planning.’

  ‘You’re a damned stubborn fool once you get an idea in that head of yours, that’s for certain,’ Alex growled. ‘Tell me, once and for all. Are you going to tell Father tonight or not?’

  Dominic’s clenched jaw ached as he battled with his answer. Yes? Or no? One simple word. That’s all it needed.

  ‘No,’ he said finally and the relief when his decision emerged washed over him like a tidal wave, sweeping all tension and friction from him. ‘No. I will not tell him tonight. There is no hurry.’

  Alex grinned and slapped Dominic on the back. ‘Best news I’ve heard in an age. There’ll be a lot of anxious punters at White’s, wondering what the verdict will be, mind.’ He leaned in again and lowered his voice. ‘I know you won’t take my advice, but I shall say what I think nevertheless. Scrap that list and think again.’ He walked away before Dominic could reply.

  How easy it was for Alex to say that and to believe it.

  He was not the heir.

  He didn’t have the weight of expectation on his shoulders.

  He was not bound by duty.

  Dominic’s chest ached and his throat constricted. He had never felt so alone, even though his family were all around him. He rubbed at his chest and the action brought Liberty bouncing into his head. How many times had he noticed her doing the exact same thing? He scowled down into his glass. How many times would he continue to allow her to invade his head and upset his carefully laid plans? No matter how many times he caught himself wishing to share a joke with her, or to point out a beautiful flower or an interesting cloud formation in the sky, nothing could change the fact that the granddaughter of a coal merchant was unsuited to the position of Marchioness of Avon, let alone the future Duchess of Cheriton.

  The children were shortly packed off to the nursery and dinner was served. Throughout the meal, even as the conversation ebbed and flowed, Dominic was conscious of his father’s eyes resting on him from time to time, a crease between his dark brows. He didn’t doubt his father knew all about the list...the question was, would he speak to Dominic about it or would he wait for Dominic to approach him? Somehow, Dominic thought he would wait. The relief he had felt had been temporary. Tension still wound his gut, robbing him of his appetite. He picked at his food.

  ‘Are you quite well, Dominic?’ Rosalind spoke softly. ‘You are hardly eating a thing and you are very quiet. And drinking more than usual. Is...is something troubling you? Your father has noticed...he looks concerned.’

  ‘I am perfectly well, thank you. I made the mistake of eating at my club earlier—I must have eaten more than I intended for I am simply not hungry now.’

  The excuse slid readily from his tongue, but her face was still etched with worry. He raised his wine glass in a toast.

  ‘Good health.’

  Sarcasm laced his words and Rosalind, after another long, level look, turned her attention from him. He thrust away the guilt that stabbed at him—it was unfair to take his mood out on his stepmother, but he didn’t want to talk. Not about anything. He just wanted this damned Season to be over with...for all decisions to be made and irreversible. Surely, then, he would stop this nonsensical yearning after a woman he could never have?

  If that’s how you feel, why not make the announcement now? This minute? The decision would be made then.

  He stared blindly at his plate, unaccustomed rage battering at his chest. It was the pain from his jaw—again clenched so tightly his teeth hurt, too—that pulled him back from the brink. He concentrated on breathing steadily until he was back in control. He would not be goaded into a hasty announcement, not even by his own inner voice. He slipped on the cloak of urbanity that he wore in public and joined the conversation, but he was rattled by his uncharacteristic gibe at Rosalind. His father’s frown revealed it had not gone unnoticed, but he had not mentioned it.

  Yet.

  But Dominic was sure it would come and he was in no fit state to verbally spar with the man who had never lost a match yet.

  I cannot cope with much more of this.

  He craved solitude. As soon as it was polite, Dominic made his excuses to leave Beauchamp House and Alex, to no one’s surprise but to Dominic’s exasperation, elected to leave with him. Dominic wanted to be alone to think through his future. Yet again. Did he need to rethink his strategy? He couldn’t deny his doubts about choosing a wife from his shortlist all stemmed from his feelings for Liberty. But that didn’t make her any more suitable. He could not get away from that. So, in that case, wasn’t one shortlist much like another?

  * * *

  ‘Come on, Dom. A few hands of whist will shake you out of the doldrums.’

  They had reached the corner of his road and Dominic glanced towards his house, further along, on the opposite side. A flash of pale skin by the area steps caught his attention and all his senses went on to high alert. He halted.

  ‘Thanks, Alex, but not tonight.’ He clapped his brother’s shoulder. ‘You go on. I’m for my bed. I’ve a session booked at Angelo’s in the morning.’

  And after he’d honed his fencing skills with Henry, he might very well call in next door to Jackson’s—maybe a sparring session would work off some of his bottled-up energy. Or—and his grip tightened on his ebony cane—maybe whoever was lurking near his front door might provide him with that opportunity right now.

  ‘Oh, well.’ Alex shrugged. ‘I’ll be off then—I arranged to meet Nev and Gid once I’d done the family duty bit. G’night, Dom!’

  ‘Goodnight, Alex.’

  Dominic watched his brother saunter away before he crossed the road and strolled along the pavement towards his house, swinging his cane nonchalantly. If it was a thief lying in wait for an unwary passer-by, he would get more than he bargained for. Dominic was in just the mood for some physical action. Something to work out his frustrations.

  As he drew level with the steps that led down to the basement kitchens, a movement flickered in the corner of his eye. He gripped his cane, unsheathing the sword in one smooth movement. Then the scent reached him, curling through his senses, bringing with it a sense of peace...and a desperate longing.

  Roses.

  * * *

  Liberty gasped as a steel blade flashed in the light from the nearby street lamp.

  ‘It’s me,’ she hissed.

  His face was in shadow, but she saw from the way he squared his shoulders that he was annoyed.

  Of course he’s annoyed! What am I doing, lying in wait for him like this?

  But she had to try, one last time, to save him from himself. If she failed...well, if she failed she would at least know she had left no stone unturned and, once she returned to Eversham, she would probably never see him again. The melancholy thought weighed heavy on her, her heart aching with loneliness. She rubbed at her chest.

  ‘What the devil are you doing?’ He growled the question. ‘Do you want to cause a scandal?’

  He still stood on the pavement. She still stood on the steps, her face at the level of his groin. She felt her skin heat as she remembered the things Bernard had told her a man and a woman could do together. Things with mouths and...

  She swallowed. Such shocking thoughts—she would never be a lady. Dominic was right not to even consider her. Although Bernard had not taken her innocence, they had kissed and been intimate—hardly the behaviour suitable for a society lady—and she was familiar with a man’s anatomy and what it could do. She had seen and recognised Dominic’s physical reaction to her more than once—and she’d felt his arousal that time they kissed. He wanted her as a man wants a woman.

  And she...God help her...wanted him. She could not deny it. She was five-and-twenty now...would probably never marry...and Dominic haunted her dreams.

  And though she knew she could never have him, she still wan
ted him to be happy. She couldn’t bear to think of him unhappy. She had failed to save one man she loved, Bernard, and now she was here to try to save Dominic from this huge mistake. She wasn’t entirely sure what lay in his heart, but she was damned certain it was not Lady Sybilla Gratton. So she would try, one last time, to open his eyes and his heart to the truth...to show him the difference between what he wanted and what he needed.

  ‘Of course not.’ She kept her voice to a whisper as she answered him, conscious that any member of his staff could see them if they happened to look out of the window behind her. ‘But I cannot stand by and watch you make a mistake you will live to regret.’

  ‘How can you possibly know I would regret it? And, besides, how does it concern you?’

  ‘You asked me that this afternoon. My answer is the same. You are my friend. I want you to be happy.’

  ‘And you think my choosing a suitable wife will make me unhappy?’ His head snapped round and he stared along the street. ‘You cannot stay there. How did you get here?’

  ‘I walked.’

  ‘Walked? Alone? Good God, Berty...anything could have happened. You know it’s unsafe for a lady to walk alone, especially at night.’

  She might as well admit the worst, because he would see for himself soon enough. She sucked in a shaky breath and stepped back, away from the wall. Dominic craned his neck over the railings. She heard his spluttered laugh and, offended, she rammed Gideon’s best beaver hat back on her head. It slid down to rest atop her ears, the brim half-covering her eyes.

  ‘There is a reason females do not wear trousers.’ He was using his superior voice and it set Liberty’s hackles rising. ‘They are entirely the wrong shape for them. At least...you are entirely the wrong shape.’

  She didn’t think she looked that dreadful...although, admittedly, her hips and legs were curvier than Gideon’s and the pantaloons were stretched somewhat more thinly than they were designed for. She hmmphed quietly even as she registered the change in Dominic’s voice. It had turned, somehow, caressing. He couldn’t hold on to all that anger, she knew he couldn’t. She stared up at him.