To Dodge a Duke (Entangled Nobility Book 2)

by Naomi Boom

  She focused her attention back on Logan and asked, “So, why are you being so nice to me?”

  Logan leveled his gaze at her and, without batting an eye, said, “I plan to marry you.”

  Eleanor froze as the words hit her. He couldn’t mean that. She began to laugh when the knowledge sank in that he was, in fact, serious. His attentions would never do, and he needed to realize it. Yes, he could not be hers, even if her heart sank at the thought.

  She shook her head and averted her gaze. “You know I will only marry a man with a title.”

  “You say that now, but after I make you fall in love with me, you will change your mind.”

  Her gaze swung back to him. He was so conceited. “I do not believe in love.”

  Undeterred, he leaned in and tilted her face so their lips were mere inches apart. His green eyes transfixed her, and she almost leaned into him but caught herself in time. He chuckled and released her. “I do believe you are halfway in love with me already.”

  Eleanor swayed as he pulled away and managed to tear her gaze from his. The green of his eyes was unusual and appeared almost like grass after a rain. They were bright but contained specks of something darker. Dangerous. She was drawn to him, despite her best efforts, and would have remained immobile except a small breeze blew a strand of hair across her face. She blinked and became aware of the sound of ballroom music playing.

  His hand caught hers, and she returned her attention to him as he said, “I will make you admit your love for me. Just wait.”

  The magic of the moment was gone, and a tide of annoyance overtook her. As she took a step away from him, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A couple glided forward but stopped when they caught sight of her and Logan; then they retreated back to the ballroom.

  She was unsure of why the couple left but chose to focus on her rant against Logan. “Your ego knows no bounds. You may be possessed of incredibly good looks, but I can assure you, a titled plain man will make you appear ugly in comparison.”

  He offered her a lazy smile. “Even the earl dressed like a footman? Somehow, I think not.”

  “I told you that was an accident.” She tapped her foot and asked, “Why in heaven’s name should I want to marry you out of all the potential good matches? Are you outlandishly rich or something?”

  His lips twitched, and he said, “You will want to marry me because you will fall in love with me. You may not believe me now, but you shall see.”

  He had a way of charming her, but Eleanor knew he was wrong. She would not be swayed, no matter what. “I will love you the same day I love horses.”

  He laughed in response and allowed his gaze to drift over her. “Would you care to place a wager?”

  “Of course I would.”

  He smiled as a predatory gleam entered his eyes. “We shall agree that if you fall in love with me, you will marry me and live in the far corners of England.”

  She raised an eyebrow and met his challenge without flinching. “And when I do not fall for you?”

  “Then you may have a favor of your choosing.”

  With a nod, she held out her hand. “Very well, I accept your wager.”

  He took her hand in his and smiled. “Well then, my water nymph, will you be in residence at the Ashford estate for the foreseeable future?”

  She extricated her hand from his, despite her desire to keep touching him, and asked with a laugh, “Why do you keep calling me a water nymph? It is unusual.”

  “When I first met you, you emerged from the water to lure me in with your enchanting, surreal ways. Only a creature from legend would be able to do that, and you, my dear, are that creature.”

  “Hmm.” As far as compliments went, this one was unique. She turned away from him and placed a hand on the cold stone wall. The granite was cooling to her overly hot skin. Strange, she had not been warm when they first ventured outside into the chilly evening air.

  She avoided his comment by returning to his previous question. “I cannot say how long I will stay at the estate. Mother wants me to run into this mysterious Duke of Waking. If we hear he is in London, then we may return much sooner than expected. I had heard he was supposed to be here tonight but so far have not seen him.”

  “Hmm. I do believe chasing after this duke would be rather futile.”

  Eleanor turned to him and asked, “What do you mean by that? You should know very few ladies can compete with me in most things.”

  “Oh, I do not doubt that, but I happen to be a very close friend to His Grace and know he does not like to be chased by women.”

  “Well, I never!” Eleanor exclaimed, annoyed at his insinuation that she would be so common. “I will have you know that I do not chase men, at least not in a way that they would notice. Besides, I do not believe you are friends with him. Why would a duke be friends with you? What are you, anyway? A knight? A baronet?”

  “I am many things, but a baronet is one of them.” He smiled and said, “His Grace, Lord Gammon, and I are all very close friends. In fact, we are going to visit him at his seat, Waking Hall, in two weeks. I am sure I could conjure up an invitation for you. Lady Gammon shall join us, so you would be chaperoned.”

  “Maybe you do have your uses.” She smiled up at him through her lashes. “Tell me about the duke then. What does he look like?” Her curiosity was aroused. The most she had heard was the duke was handsome and rich.

  His eyes twinkled as he said, “Well, he is similar in build to me, and his hair is almost the same color. In fact, many people confuse the two of us. You would not believe the number of people that have called me Your Grace tonight.”

  That explained why the couple had left the balcony. If the duke was even half as handsome as Logan, then she would be very lucky as she was having a hard time dragging her eyes away from him. “I will bring my own chaperone to this gathering, if, in fact, you can secure an invitation.”

  Logan shrugged his shoulder. “Very well, meet me at your willow at noon in two days, and I will give you the details.”

  Eleanor nodded. She was ready to return to the ballroom. Logan acted the consummate gentleman as he escorted her back to her previous position at the refreshment table and then left to engage in a bit of cards.

  Once again available, Eleanor was set upon by several young men. None were appropriate suitors for her, but she would not begrudge them her dazzling smile or charming wit simply because of their unfortunate circumstances. The dances were all country reels, but everyone at the assembly seemed to enjoy themselves, and even Eleanor appreciated the exercise.

  Logan never returned to the ballroom, although Eleanor swore to herself she did not watch for him. She also would never admit that she longed for her ride with him in two days. That, in itself, was unusual. She never desired to ride a horse.

  As Eleanor began to tire, she took a break near the refreshment table. Beatrice was once again shooting Eleanor reproving glances as she had done throughout the evening. Eleanor snubbed Beatrice by turning her back on the girl and considered what Logan had said about her lack of friends. If all women were like Beatrice, then Eleanor would be much happier friendless.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  Eleanor turned to see Lady Gammon standing next to her with a pleasant smile. Eleanor had always thought Lady Gammon was quite a beauty but in a rather exotic way. If the gossips were to be believed, Lady Gammon had some Spanish blood in her, which would explain the dark complexion and hair. Eleanor dipped a perfect curtsy and said, “Why yes, Lady Gammon. Your event has turned out to be quite charming.”

  Lady Gammon watched the dancers float by and chuckled. “Ah. I imagine you would never call a ball in London charming, but in the country, it is perfectly acceptable.”

  Eleanor’s cheeks heated, and she tried to remedy her error by saying, “I meant that as a compliment. I have enjoyed myself, you know.”

  “Of course, I knew you had meant to compliment my little party, but I could not resist teasing you a bit.
Tell me, is your enjoyment due to a certain gentleman?”

  “Of course not,” Eleanor responded a little too quickly.

  “Logan apprised me of his interest in you, so you needn’t act so shy about it.”

  “I am not acting at all, my lady. I view him as a friend and nothing more. I would say I am interested in a different friend of yours.”

  “Who I imagine is the Duke of Waking.” Lady Gammon paused to snatch a glass of lemonade from a passing footman. She sipped her drink as she surveyed the crowd before her and said, “Aside from the title, what sets the duke above Logan?”

  Eleanor also took a sip of her beverage. “Truthfully, I have not met the duke.” She giggled at how absurd she must sound. Most women did not plan to marry a man they had not met. “I do think it is amusing how similar the two are in looks though. Logan warned me about that, and sure enough, one gentleman commented on the duke’s attention toward me. Of course, I corrected his erroneous identification.”

  The revelation brought a soft laugh from Lady Gammon. “How extraordinary. Somehow, everyone in attendance tonight is under the impression this ball was thrown for the Duke of Waking, and he is not even here. Logan’s presence has everyone confused.” She paused to smile at a passing guest before returning her attention back to Eleanor. “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? I insist you visit me for some tea. Unless, of course, you are otherwise engaged.”

  “That would be lovely.” Eleanor smiled, unused to such invitations from ladies without a hidden motive. She imagined Lady Gammon had some secret reason to invite her, but she would keep an open mind in hopes of purer motives.

  Having bade each other a pleasant evening, the two ladies parted ways, and soon Eleanor was gathering her shawl around her in preparation to depart. The night had turned out to be rather enjoyable, and she was excited for her outing to visit Lady Gammon. Naturally, her mother would encourage the visit. Friendship with a countess was never bad for one’s social standing.

  Eleanor and her mother entered the carriage as the orchestra concluded a reel. Her father would return later, when all the card games ceased for the evening. The footman closed the door, and Eleanor settled into her soft cushioned seat.

  “What a marvelous night!”

  Eleanor’s spine went rigid as she sat up with a start. “You think so?”

  “Of course.” Her mother tsked and speared her with a look of disapproval. “The duke spoke with you, at length, on the balcony.”

  “That was not the duke, Mother.” Eleanor held her breath, waiting for the stern upbraiding she would receive.

  Lady Ashford’s brows drew together in confusion. “Then who was that gentleman?”

  “No one.” Eleanor exhaled the words even as a sense of wrongness froze her heart. He was more than no one, even if he was not the duke.

  “You mean to tell me you spared that insignificant cretin your undivided attention?”

  Her mother’s eyes turned glacial, and Eleanor pulled her mask of indifference over her face. She had learned long ago to numb herself to her mother’s words.

  “What if the duke had seen you with him and received the wrong impression? No member of the peerage will wed a lady who might make him a cuckold, and he might have concluded you would.”

  Eleanor knew all of this and did not need to hear it again. She turned her gaze to the window, even though the moonlight lit very little. When her mother paused to draw breath, she whispered, “I understand. I will not misbehave again.”

  “See that you do not. I should hate to completely remove you from society.”

  Eleanor could not marry well if that happened, and Eleanor ignored the threat. Her family would stop at nothing to marry her off. She swung her gaze back to her mother and smiled. “Lady Gammon has invited me for tea tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” Her mother’s voice still held a cool note but would warm with the turn in conversation.

  “Yes. I shall take tea with a countess, so my trip to the balcony must not have done too much damage.”

  Slowly, Eleanor’s mother nodded her head. “Yes. That will do nicely.”

  Of course it would. Friendship with a countess never harmed one’s social standing. Her mother’s disapproval was stymied, which allowed Eleanor to settle back into the cushions for the remainder of the trip home. Someday, she would depart all of this and be mistress to her own home. She could ignore her mother and all the expectations placed on her and just be.

  Chapter 4

  Eleanor once again found herself in her carriage, riding the short distance to the Gammon estate. Her stomach was a bit off, and the motion of the carriage did not help. She might see Logan today, whether she wished to or not.

  She should not desire to see him, though. Although judging by her queasy abdomen, she did. For the feeling in her belly was one of excitement rather than abhorrence. Matters would be simpler if she did not want to see him, though.

  Imagine if she married Logan. She scowled at the thought. A lack of title would cause many doors in society to close to her, and she would be forced to circulate in a lesser tier. If Eleanor wanted to remain in the upper echelons of the ton, then she had to marry well, and a baronet did not qualify as such.

  The carriage pulled to a halt, and Eleanor emerged to the welcoming sight of the large manor. Such a house was what she desired, or perhaps several. A duke would have many houses far grander than this.

  She entered and was directed to a small sitting room, located just off the foyer, where Lady Gammon sat waiting. “Good afternoon, my lady,” Eleanor said with a polite smile and curtsy.

  “Miss Ashford, how good of you to join me.” She indicated a nearby chair with a gentle wave of her hand.

  Eleanor took a seat in the indicated chair and examined her surroundings. The room was richly decorated in cream and burgundy. Very tastefully done, while not too feminine. “I love the room,” Eleanor said, although if this was her sitting room there would be more pink.

  “Why, thank you. I cannot abide rooms done in pink. Just because I am a woman does not mean I have to love the color. Also, if I ever want my husband to join me for tea, I must have a room he can feel comfortable in.”

  Eleanor’s hand twitched at Lady Gammon’s words. “You mean you actually spend time with Lord Gammon?” Such behavior was most unusual in the ton.

  Lady Gammon took a sip of her tea and nodded. “Of course. I know it is not fashionable, but I like my husband.”

  “How fortunate for you. I imagine most ladies either get companionship or status through marriage, not both.”

  “That is possible, but I never was concerned about titles. I fell in love with Reuben for himself. The title was just a bonus.”

  Eleanor leaned forward, trying to hide the disbelief from her voice as she said, “You mean to tell me his title had no effect on you? If he had been a mere mister, I am sure things would be different, and you would not have married him.”

  “Actually, this may come as a surprise to you, but his title was a bit of a deterrent to me. You know I am the granddaughter of a duke, but did you know my father is a simple vicar?” She laughed as her comment elicited a small gasp from Eleanor. “When my grandfather gave me a season, I vowed to marry for love. My preference was to find a man to make me happy. One with a house in the country. I did not want to marry a peer, as that would only complicate my life. Unfortunately, I fell for Reuben and have been defying societal conventions ever since.” She smiled and indicated her outdated dress. “I used to be concerned with fashion and appearing just so, but I realized no one important to me cares about my clothing. Yes, people may think I am odd, but I do and wear what makes me happy.”

  Lady Gammon was known for her eccentric ways, but Eleanor had never expected to hear an explanation for why. “But what does Lord Gammon think? You are a reflection of him, so does he not prefer you to dress fashionably?”

  Lady Gammon cocked her head and surveyed Eleanor with a puzzled look. “What sort of gentleman are you
trying to marry? To me, the worthwhile ones do not keep up with ladies’ fashions. Reuben thinks I look good in the dresses I wear, and that is what matters to him.”

  “There are plenty of gentlemen that care about fashion.”

  “Yes, but are they gentlemen that actually interest you?”

  Eleanor nodded. The lady had a point. It was one thing to care if a lady looked attractive, it was quite another to say whether she was in the height of fashion or not. “So, what is your purpose in telling me this?”

  The countess contemplated the liquid in her teacup before saying, “I know your mother. Not saying there is anything wrong with her, but her priorities have always been superficial, at best. My guess is you have never heard a lady can be desirous of other things than wealth or status.”

  Eleanor plastered a smile on her face and tried to hide her annoyance that Lady Gammon assumed such things about her mother, no matter how true. Lady Ashford had always had the best of intentions for her daughter. Marriage was, after all, essential to a lady’s well-being, and if Eleanor ever questioned that notion, she only had to look at her aunt. Mrs. Westfield had been widowed at a young age. She was left with nothing and had to rely on family to support her.

  Lady Gammon spoke before Eleanor could form a reply. “Oh, you needn’t appear so affronted. I am not intending to insult you or your mother. I am simply trying to explain why Logan is an acceptable suitor for you.” She laughed and settled her teacup on the table in front of her.

  Eleanor’s eyes narrowed at the countess’s laugh. The lady did seem to behave unpredictably at times. “What you say might be true for you, but I doubt I could be happy without a titled gentleman.”

  “That may be,” Lady Gammon said as she glanced at a clock on the mantel and rose from her chair. “Please join me on a stroll, Miss Ashford.”

  Eleanor followed her out the door and was unsurprised when their short walk down the main hallway ended in the library where Lord Gammon and Logan happened to be. Lady Gammon’s eyes twinkled as she feigned surprise. “How fortuitous to find you both here.”