To Dodge a Duke (Entangled Nobility Book 2)

by Naomi Boom

  He had asked Lord Gammon about Miss Ashford and been apprised of all sorts of interesting things, including her sizeable dowry. He also had learned just what he had suspected when he first met her. She was a bit of a spoiled narcissist who tempted men like a siren to her at every turn. A bit of teasing would benefit her.

  “Oh, I think I can be quite convincing when I tell him how you threw yourself at me, causing both of us to tumble onto the ground. He will not be pleased to hear how you refused to get off me.” He smirked. An outraged blush suffused her face, and his smirk broadened.

  “That is not at all what happened!” she shrieked as she looked panicked. “Besides, you would not want to marry me. I would make you a terrible wife, especially if I were forced to live so far north.” She shuddered and paled.

  “With your sizeable dowry, I hardly think your compliance important.” Never mind the fact that her dowry would make very little impact to his coffers. And never mind his favorite estate, Briarthorn, was one of many. Frankly, she would be delighted to hear his ducal seat was located much further south.

  “All I have to do is tell my father you are a fortune hunter, and he would not believe a word you said,” she gloated with a smile and a lift of her brow.

  “Well, in that case, I will just have to ensure I ruin you beyond redemption before presenting my case.” He could not help adding that little jab, and besides, he would love to be the one to ruin her.

  “As if that would ever happen.” She laughed as her blue eyes turned glacial. “I am not stupid enough to be ruined by any man before marrying him.” She turned and began to ride away, but when she noticed he followed, she asked over her shoulder, “What more could you want from me?”

  Their interaction was quite exhilarating. “Well, in all honesty, I am not here to talk to your father.” That might just soften her thorny mien.

  “So you are not interested in marrying me?” she asked with relief etched through every inch of her slight frame.

  Logan was not pleased with how happy she looked, although he did not wish to marry the lady. He had his pride, and this was the first time a lady had ever told him she was uninterested in him. “You could do worse than to marry me, but no, I am not interested.”

  She tossed her head in response. “I may be able to marry a worse man than you, but I certainly can do better.”

  Having returned from the continent to finally secure his lineage, Logan had fortified himself with the knowledge he would have to marry a lady after his title. Under different circumstances, this lady might just have been the one he chose to marry. Now, however, she would hate him when she discovered he was a duke and had tricked her. Granted, she might still decide to pursue him. Titles had that effect on women.

  She urged her mare to a trot, and he caught up to her before she could get far. He grinned and said, “You know, it is considered quite rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.”

  “I do not see the need to mind my manners around undeserving people.”

  Her flippant remark almost smarted. Almost. “And that is why you have no friends.”

  She whipped around to face him with a glare on her face. “You have no right to speak that way to me.” She sneered. “You, a gentleman barely in an acceptable social class, should watch what you say around me.”

  He had to fight back the urge to tell her exactly what social class he was a member of but managed to quell his reaction. Logan’s response was a calculated one she would hate. He simply lifted a reproving eyebrow, turned, and rode away. He had taunted her, but he would not put up with a woman lacking in basic manners.

  He had to school his features, when, after several moments, she called out, “Oh, do come back. I may have spoken too harshly.”

  He turned and made his way back to her with a serene look of indifference on his face. Inwardly, he gloated. How could he not? He reached her side and said, “May have? Even landed gentry have feelings, you know.”

  She softened and smiled at him. “Do they? Who knew.” Her smile disappeared and she eyed him. “You may accompany me on my outing.”

  She kicked her mare into a trot. He trailed behind and enjoyed a most fortunate view of her. Not only was her waist tiny, but her hips flared out to a lush bottom. Her riding habit was a light blue which offset her eyes and emphasized her curves despite its austere cut. No wonder she had claimed to be a renowned beauty, for today, she deserved the honor.

  He tore his gaze from the delightful sway of her hips to survey the landscape around them. When he rode, he did so to enjoy the scenery, which today was deserving of his attention. Everything around them had turned green from the recent rain, and even a few wildflowers were in bloom. Trees surrounded them, except for a small clearing ahead. They entered the clearing, and a large willow came into sight.

  He swung off his horse, paused to survey their location, and was struck by its loveliness. They were situated on a grassy knoll next to a ravine. A weeping willow offered shade, and several patches of grass had sprung up through the mud. The recent rains had swollen the stream in the ravine and it rushed past them, creating a pleasant song of water dancing in its frenzy. The air smelled of rain and fresh earth, with the barest hint of warmth. The scent was redolent of spring.

  “What a lovely spot,” Logan said as he lifted her from her mare. He followed her beneath the willow to a large rock. She sat down under the cascading branches, and his breath caught. She was a magical creature.

  “This is my secret spot.” Her gaze was trained on the water as it flowed past, and her voice almost sounded shy. Shyness did not seem typical of her character, and he softened toward her. Her current behavior did not fit with Lord Gammon’s description. Not at all.

  A strand of her blonde hair escaped from its confines and fell to her shoulder. She averted her gaze and said, “You are the first person to ever come here with me.”

  His hand itched to touch that tendril of hair, but he ignored the urge and asked, “Your cousin has not?”

  “No.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Sometimes I need time to myself, in a place free from scrutiny.” She gave him a pointed look and smiled a wry smile. “Now would be such a time, if you had not insisted on joining me.”

  He barked out a laugh. Her response seemed more flirtatious than cutting and was ample reward for choosing to follow her.

  She appeared surprised at his honest laugh. Surprised and appreciative, and with that look, he could not hold back from saying, “You could have let me leave.”

  She responded quickly, without thought. “Yes, but—” Then, she clamped her mouth shut, all humor vanishing in an instant.

  “But what?” He grinned. She had betrayed a unique sparkle of personality that exhilarated him and made him want more.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you.” With an inhale, she squared her shoulders and said, “I kind of—well, enjoy talking to you.”

  “Oh?” His heart beat at roughly the same rhythm Raphael’s hooves made at a gallop. What was he? Some boy to grow agog over a woman’s interest?

  The most charming of blushes rose to her cheeks. Her tone turned icy, which belied her words. “Yes. You listen well and are useful.”

  According to rumors, Miss Ashford was a shrewish young lady. Yet now she complimented him. His lips itched to smile, but he stopped them. He did not need to scare her away. “Is there anything else you would like to confide, my lady?”

  “Of course not.” Her words were sharp, but the most fleeting of sparks shifted through her eyes. The spark looked eerily similar to the humorous glance she afforded him earlier.

  A sudden urge to see her laugh filled him. He was no jester, so a mere sparkle might have to suffice. “In the future, if you enjoy someone’s company, perhaps you should be pleasant. Not so pleasant as you were on our first meeting, though. Throwing yourself on top of a gentleman gives the wrong message.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She threw u
p her hands in exasperation but stopped when he grinned at her. The corners of her mouth tilted, and his heart soared. “I will take your words under advisement.”

  “See that you do. I should hate to see how a less chivalrous gentleman would react.” At his words, her demeanor shifted to her normal look of reserve. He had lost her.

  She returned her attention to the water. “What is your name?”

  He needed to see her smile again, and admitting his identity would not help. He had several titles to choose from but decided to say, “My name is Logan.”

  “Logan suits you.”

  “Thank you.” The rushing waters commanded her attention, and he searched for a way to win her back. Anything would suffice. “Tell me more of your aunt.”

  She did not turn back to him, but her voice carried to where he stood. “She was widowed at a young age. Widowed and poor. The two are an especially horrible combination as she wound up beholden to my parents.” Anger laced her voice, and her hands shook. She clenched her hands into tight balls and dropped them to her sides. “Father allows her to live in a small cottage on the estate and, whenever they need her to chaperone me, trots her out as if she were chattel.” She shook her head, slowly turning back to face him. Her voice grew louder, angrier. “They should have granted her a tidy income and a house of her choosing where she could have a life of her own.”

  Where had all that come from? Such conviction did not belong with a selfish, spoiled brat. She was chock full of surprises.

  “I will see her situation changes once I wed.” His brows rose in surprise, and she scowled at him. “I will, mark my words. She will live wherever she chooses, be it London, Brighton, Bath, or any other place of her liking. She will not rely on them any longer.”

  He remained immobile, his brain working hard to connect the woman who sat before him with the woman he thought he knew.

  At his silence, she flexed her hands and lowered her gaze. “I do apologize. You hit a sore spot.”

  His surprise faded, and he whispered, “Don’t apologize. Your intentions are noble. Far nobler than most.”

  She nodded slowly and exhaled a pent-up breath. “You never told me what brought you out on your ride today.”

  People never questioned where he went, and he had not bothered to consider his whereabouts as he rode. “I enjoy riding and almost always engage in a ritual morning ride.”

  “I wish I could do the same.” Her voice was as soft as a breeze, and the moment the words left her, she blushed and covered her mouth with her hand.

  “What do you mean?” He leaned toward her, curious to understand what she unintentionally admitted. Her voice was quiet, but even more importantly, he wished to be near her.

  “This is to be our little secret, but…I detest horses.”

  Trying to hide the surprise from his voice, Logan asked, “How is that possible? No one dislikes horses.”

  “You do not have to be so shocked by it. I just have always hated them. I am not certain why, maybe it is their size, or the fact that I have to sit atop them.” She turned her face to her mare and looked at it with an impassive expression. “I might not mind them so much, but I have to ride at least once a week in order to stay in practice.”

  “You practice riding and dancing. How unusual,” he murmured as he noted her quiet acceptance of her duties. “What else do you practice?” The thought had never occurred to him that some ladies might not excel at the ladylike activities they all engaged in. How many other ladies practiced little things like riding horses?

  “I also play the pianoforte and paint, but those activities are much more enjoyable.”

  “Could you not just be honest about your distaste for horses and avoid them?”

  She laughed, but her laughter sounded brittle, rather than joyous. “Gentlemen do not care if a lady enjoys doing things. It is expected that all ladies ride, therefore I must ride well. Besides, honesty will never help me make an advantageous match.”

  Logan considered her words. Every lady in his acquaintance likely shared the same view as she, and the harsh reality was as long as a lady knew he was a duke, she would lie to him. “Why not just be yourself? Maybe some gentlemen will not like you, but others will.”

  “What a naïve thought. You know me better than most. Tell me, would you be interested despite my imperfections?” Her eyes were on his, and he could read the emotion in them. It was as if she willed him to contradict her, to tell her how wrong she was.

  Logan took a step forward and kneeled at her side despite the soiled earth. The vulnerability on her face defied reason, and he fought the urge to pull her to him, to give her the comfort she required. How could she believe gentlemen would not like her for herself?

  From what he had seen so far, he could do much worse than marry a woman such as Miss Ashford. He could imagine her carefree, unhindered by the expectations society placed on her. She might smile and say more of the kind, unbidden words she admitted to him. Then there was her very obvious love for her aunt. He had never witnessed such loyalty. How would it feel to inspire such devotion? Why, he would give most anything to have her love.

  He sucked in a breath at the thought. Why not just pursue her instead of the other title-hungry maidens he would find in London? Imagine if he could make her fall in love with him, the unknown landed gentry, as opposed to the duke? Hiding his identity would not be easy, but if he could convince her to marry him without disclosing his title, he would find a woman he might cherish and befriend, one that he would also enjoy bedding. How could he possibly do better than that?

  His mind made up, Logan focused his attention back on Miss Ashford. “What is your given name?” he asked as he searched her eyes.

  “Eleanor.”

  “Eleanor.” He paused to consider the sound of her name on his tongue and decided he quite liked it. “Eleanor, do you believe in love?”

  She scoffed, and the vulnerability faded from her face. “Of course not. Love is an idiotic made-up emotion for the weak.” She smirked. “My cousin married for love, but I remain unconvinced.”

  Well, that hindered his plans. He would just have to convince her to believe. “I have concluded love does exist. In fact, I believe if you were to be yourself, you could find a man to love you for you. In answer to your question, yes, I would be interested. Your quirks are trivial and rather endearing.” Her face softened into an inviting smile, and he once again thought of a water nymph. She looked so much different when presentable, yet judging by her favored location to visit, she held an affinity for water. He added on a whisper as he kneeled by her side, “My dear water nymph.”

  ****

  Eleanor struggled to comprehend what he just said. Not only was his presence enough to eradicate all rational thought, but his nearness prompted her thoughts to veer toward sinful things such as kissing him. With a start, she realized he had stopped talking and was looking at her as if he wanted to eat her. Her stomach lurched in anticipation. No rational gentleman stared at a lady and then called her a water nymph. Before she could ask if he’d gone daft, he brought his lips to hers, which silenced her worries about his sanity and all other thoughts as well.

  A shiver ran over her skin as she understood her sinful thoughts had been returned. His bold lips felt magical on her, as if he knew precisely how to kiss her. This interaction felt different from any she had experienced before. His lips were like silken caresses against hers, rather than the indifferent kiss of an unwanted suitor. Not only was his touch something of an elixir, but the knowledge that he found her true personality to be interesting filled her heart with lightness. She knew she would never act like herself around others, but his validation acted as a balm to her spirit.

  Could this sort of feeling ever exist with another man? Her errant thoughts fled as his hands crept around to pull her closer to him. She sighed into him and placed her hand on his neck to ensure the embrace continued. His kiss ignited a fire within her, one that should have scared her but instead seemed
to awaken desires she never knew existed. She wanted this moment to continue. No matter his rank or unsuitability, she longed for the caress of a gentleman with humor-filled eyes and a quick wit. One who understood her.

  With a final caress, he halted the kiss. Keen disappointment engulfed her despite her sensible realization that it should end. Must end. Such traits remained unimportant in comparison to wealth and a title.

  No, she had best remember herself. She stood and brought her emotions under control. His hand reached out to catch hers in his, and she pulled it away with a frown of disapproval. “Control yourself. No woman wants to be accosted in such a manner.”

  Logan smirked and stood to tower over her. “I think you welcomed my advances very much. I would prove it if you ask.”

  Eleanor glared at him and took a step back. “That is unnecessary. I already know I did not appreciate the first example.” Besides, even if she had enjoyed it, it would be inadvisable for her to allow another kiss to transpire. His smirk remained glued to his handsome face, and she said, “Oh, stop it. You think much too highly of yourself.”

  He chuckled in response and took a step closer. Eleanor, naturally, took another step back until he reached out and pulled her to him in a rough embrace. Incensed, Eleanor asked, “Who do you think you are? There is never an acceptable time for you to behave so impudently toward me!”

  His arm imprisoned her as he smiled down on her. “Isn’t there? Would it have been preferable to fall into the ravine?”

  She swung her head around to find they stood mere steps from the rushing waters. She gulped and turned to face him. Obviously, it was best to stay away from the ravine, but she would not concede his point. “Yes. It would have been much more desirable.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. She was not sure why he found her so humorous, but she knew she had to get away from him. Now. Even the scent of him was enough to drive her to distraction, and distraction was not something she needed in her life. Her added glower of disapproval only elicited another chuckle from Logan, which did not exactly soothe her temper. “Get off me.” She bristled while shoving his arms away from her. Not about to try backing up again, she stared up at him with a raised brow.