“I fear my mother may be developing a tendre for his grace. I think it would be best if she and Mattie moved to The Lake House before it goes any further.”
Should she stack the books upright or lay them side-by-side?
He cocked his head, a slight frown veeing his brows.
“You don’t think your mother deserves to care for someone?”
“That’s not what I mean at all. She’s a disgraced governess, and he’s a duke.” She glanced at her lengthy to-do list. How was she to ever get all that done by Friday? Should she assure the bedchambers were all readied or ask Old Ronald about when to best cut the flowers for the myriad of vases she wanted filled with bouquets? “But nothing can come of it. Their stations are too distant.”
He scratched his ear, giving her a boyish grin.
“I don’t know. Father’s mellowed dramatically since Miss Haverden’s arrival. In truth, I haven’t ever seen him as amiable. I’ll admit I’m glad for it and the effort he seems to be making. Dr. Chamberlain says the company has done his health good. Would you deprive your mother and my father the enjoyment?” He rested a hip on the edge of a writing desk. “Why don’t we wait and see how things play out?”
She sighed and looked to the ornate ceiling and husbanded her patience.
Why was he being so obtuse?
“Naturally, I want them to be happy.” Was such a thing even possible for the duke? “But I cannot bear to see my mother hurt anymore. How could his grace possibly return her regard? You know as well as I that peers only trifle with those beneath their station.”
“Is that what you think of me too? That I’d play with your affections then toss you aside like an old, worn shoe?” His stern regard held her captive.
How dare he get his bristles up?
“Sir, I am living, breathing proof of that very thing.”
How had this turned into an argument between them?
Because passion bubbled beneath the surface, and if it couldn’t be appeased one way, it would be another.
He towered over her now. Not threateningly, but powerful and commanding, and not easily dismissed.
“No, you are not. Your mother didn’t have any affection for Andrews. It’s not the same at all. When two people care for each other, love each other above all else, station does not matter.”
“What do you know about it? You who’ve never had to ignore barbed comments and sly looks? Never had to pretend indifference while simmering with embarrassment.” She flung her hair behind her. “Never had to wonder where your next meal would come from?” She slammed the last book down then lowered her voice, fearful someone would overhear their argument. “Are you saying none of your elite acquaintances have taken advantage of their lofty positions to have their way with a servant or other woman who caught their roving eye?”
“I cannot deny that, nor can I tell you what’s going on inside my Father’s head. But I vow I am not like them, and I take exception to you lumping me in with the likes of those cretins. I have fought seven duels for that very reason. Duels against those who are deemed my social equals, because they abused their position and ruined an innocent without remorse. Those are the keys, Eden. Deliberate intent and lack of remorse.”
He plowed his long fingers through his thick hair and paced to the window seat. His shoulders rose and fell in his agitation. He sliced her a hard glance over his broad shoulder.
“And you, Eglantina Eden Haverden, are as much a snob as they are if you restrict love and affection to those in the same social class. I’d have thought better of you. Love can happen at any time, between anyone, and it’s a gift to be treasured.”
He looked at her with such disappointment, chagrin beset her. Shaking his auburn head, he spun on his heel and stalked to the library door.
“By the by, Father insists you wear your hair up when our guests are here.”
Stinging sarcasm that.
“He won’t budge on the matter, though I tried to dissuade him.”
Eden remained rooted to the floor. The order to tie her hair up hadn’t rattled her. She’d expected it sooner, truth to tell.
Chester’s confession about the duels had dissolved her irritation.
He’d risked his life several times for a woman’s reputation?
She’d misjudged him.
She swallowed and blinked back tears before collecting her list and examining the blurry entries.
What to do next?
Oh, yes. Chef wanted a word about dainties and cakes to serve during teas.
“Mrs. Haverden?”
His grace rolled his invalid chair into the library.
How could she not have heard his approach?
A certain marquis’s striking features floated to mind as she bobbed a curtsy.
She may have been a trifle distracted.
“Your Grace.”
Where was Neville?
As if reading her mind, the duke said, “I sent Neville to the kitchen for my coffee. Did you know he’s the father of eight?”
“No, I was not aware.” She folded her list and, after tucking it into her apron pocket, offered a polite smile. Since her arrival, his grace’s health seemed more robust as well. Mayhap Chester was right. “May I be of help?”
Is that what she was supposed to say?
“I wanted a private word with you. I heard you arguing with my son.”
Eavesdropping, was he? How much had he heard?
She firmly disregarded the heat sweeping over her cheeks.
“That won’t do, you know. I expect the lower orders to know their place. Any further breaches and you will be dismissed at once.”
His smile held no warmth as he flicked his cold gaze over her, lingering for a moment on her unbound hair.
This was the true Duke of DeCourcy. The blackguard was play-acting with Mama, she’d vow. To what purpose?
“I understand. It won’t happen again, Your Grace.”
Eden clasped her hands behind her back. She’d not give the spiteful curmudgeon the pleasure of seeing her undone.
Fingers steepled, he nodded.
“Good. Good. Oh, and if you’ve any imprudent designs on my son, you’d best rid yourself of those foolish notions. I only permitted him to hire you so he’d move back into the big house. I have a duchess selected for him. He will marry Miss Bickford.”
Eden lifted her chin in proud defiance. “I’m sure his lordship knows his own mind.”
“Stupid, stupid green girl. What he wants is of no importance. It’s what I want that counts. I am the duke, not he.” He jabbed his thumb at his chest. “Manchester will propose, or my guests will be dismayed to find valuables have gone missing. I have loyal servants in this household.”
Like Neville? Father of eight? Who couldn’t afford to be jobless?
“As there’s never been any prior incidences of thievery at Perygrim, who else will the magistrate suspect but the newest members of the household?” he asked, with unnerving calm. “Naturally, the stolen goods will be discovered in your and your mother’s possession.”
The oatmeal Eden had eaten at half past six this morning threatened to reappear.
“You would not dare.”
Yes, the duke would.
He practically exuded glee. He’d orchestrated everything. Expertly played everyone like ivory pieces on a chess-board.
“Manchester would never let you and your mother go to prison. He’s too bloody noble.” He curled his lips in disgust. “He loves you too much, the damned sentimental fool. Just like his mawkish mother.”
He loves me?
Oh, if only it were true.
“What makes you think I won’t tell his lordship about your scheme?”
“I’ve already planted jewels and other trinkets. Even now, I have someone prepared to find them. I have only to say the word.” He drummed his bony fingers on the chair arms. “Why, think of it. You could be sitting in a cold, dark, rat-infested cell within hours.”
Eden hugg
ed her shoulders.
The duke was an evil fiend. No matter what she did, someone she loved was going to suffer.
Her breath stalled in her lungs as the truth hit her.
Chester was right.
It didn’t matter who you were. How long you’d known someone. What station they were. Love was oblivious to all of those things.
How could she choose between him and Mama?
Mama would die in prison.
“You either watch the man you love wed another woman or send your mother to prison for life. With her frail health, she’ll be gone within weeks. You, however, are made of sterner stuff. You’ll last years and years, I’ll be bound.”
His cruel cackle ended on a harsh cough.
Jaw clenched, she glared at him.
“Of course, once Manchester proposes to Miss Bickford, I’ll want you gone. I’ll even give you a thousand pounds to take your mother, servants, and that ratty dog and disappear. Forever.”
A Rose for a Rogue
Collette Cameron
Chester stalked down the corridor, Wynby and Neville marching behind him. He held a purple velvet bag, jingling with jewels and small pieces of silver Neville was to have hidden in Eden and Miss Haverden’s chambers.
He’d gone to Wynby instead.
Father had gone too far, conspiring to incriminate Eden and her mother. By God, Chester would find out why.
He loosened the bag’s tie, then lifted a handful of the gems.
Mother’s.
A sapphire and diamond ring glittered atop the pile, the square cut gem nearly the same unusual pale blue as Eden’s eyes.
A smile teasing the corners of his mouth, he pocketed the ring before returning the other jewels to the pouch.
At the foot of the stairs, he lifted his hand.
“I’ll continue to the library alone. I cannot express my gratitude to either of you. Your loyalty is commendable, and rest assured, Neville, you will always have a position in this house. You’ll find my temperament much more moderate than my sire’s.”
“Thank you, sir.” Tangible relief relaxed Neville’s plain features. He’d risked much betraying the duke.
“Go below stairs, and keep the other staff there as well,” Chester said, balancing the bag on his palm. “I’ll summon you when I need you.”
The servants exchanged a knowing look as they continued down the corridor.
Once Chester had wrangled his ire under control, he proceeded to the library, treading on silent feet. He’d truly wanted to attempt a reconciliation with the duke, but this latest stunt revealed the futility of any such effort.
“I shall not accept a pence from you, sir. And if you think your offer of money will keep me silent while you manipulate your son, you’ve made a strategic miscalculation. Not only will my mother and I leave this house at once, I believe Lord Sterling will thwart any attempt you make to frame us for theft.”
“Indeed, I certainly shall.”
Chester entered the library.
As he closed the door, a guilty flush tinged his sire’s cheeks. Chester crossed to the duke and dropped the bag into his lap, relishing his flabbergasted expression.
“Why is it I’m not surprised you’d stoop to such depths, Father? What I don’t know is why you want to frame Eden?”
“Because he wants to force you to marry Miss Bickford.” Eden’s contempt was palpable as she clasped her hands.
Chester rubbed his nose when what he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and march out the door, through the foyer, and straight to the stables, where they’d bundle into a coach and make straight for Gretna Green.
“I fail to see what one has to do with the other.” He touched the hard-little lump in his pocket instead.
Soon.
“Stop being obtuse, Manchester,” the duke snapped. He scowled at the bag. “I knew you’d never allow the chit or her mother to go to prison. I was simply insuring you’d propose. I want to see my grandson before I die. I’m not a well man.”
“You’re also not dying as you led me to believe, are you, Father?” Chester had learned that tidbit his first day home. “In fact, Dr. Chamberlain says you don’t need that invalid chair at all, and liberally applied rice powder can be credited for your sickly pallor.”
That rendered the duke blessedly mute.
“Please excuse me, I need to pack.”
Eden squared her shoulders and lifted her chin with a duchess’s aplomb. She was as angry as he’d ever seen her.
“Can I impose upon you to wait a few moments more?” Chester smiled at the haphazardly arranged books. Decorating was not Eden’s forte. “I have something to say you should hear.”
She scrunched her nose in that adorable way she had when puzzled, then after searching his face in the assessing manner he’d become accustomed to, gave a short nod.
“All right.”
He cupped an elbow in his palm and rested his chin on his other fist.
“If I understand correctly, Father, if I concede to your wishes and propose, you’ll settle one thousand pounds on Eden?”
A tiny flicker of shrewdness entered his father’s eyes. He glanced between Eden and Chester several times.
“That’s correct.”
“Rather a stingy offer, I think.” Chester cocked his head as he brushed a bit of lint from the jewelry bag off his lapel. “Make it five thousand pounds, and include a house at the seashore, and I’ll agree.”
Eden’s stifled gasp nearly ripped his heart from his chest.
She averted her face, but not before he saw the shocked tears pooling in her periwinkle gaze. “Don’t be—”
“I agree. I agree. A house and five thousand. But she goes today.” Father pointed a spindly finger at Eden. “I can’t risk you changing your mind. We’ll have to manage the house party with the extra help. Perygrim’s been without a housekeeper this long and we’ve got on well enough. Viscountess Bickford has already agreed to act as hostess in any event.”
I’ll bet she has.
“I’ll have your word on that, Father. Swear to it. And that you’ll never harass Eden or her mother again. And that includes any sort of threat or blackmail.”
His father might be a good many ignoble things, but his word was his oath. Chester had never known him to break it.
“I swear on Byron’s grave.”
Triumph glittered in Father’s eyes and curved his mouth. He all but licked his lips in jubilation.
“If you think your heroics are necessary, my lord, they are not. Do not sacrifice yourself for me.” Eyes shooting sparks of accusation, Eden pivoted toward the doorway. Head high, spine stiff, she unpinned the chatelaine. “I told your father and I’ll tell you. I will not accept a cent. I cannot be bribed.”
With that, she dropped the chatelaine on a table. She flung her glorious hair over her shoulder as she swept to the door.
Chester rushed after her, blocking her way. He caught her hand. “You misunderstand, sweet.”
“I don’t think I do.” She tried to shake him off. “Please release me.”
“In a moment.” He leaned nearer as he drew the ring from his pocket. “I want to ask you something first.”
He slipped the ring on her finger.
Confusion combined with hope blossomed across her features.
“Chester?”
“What’s going on?” His father tried to turn his chair but a wheel had become stuck on the rug. Instead, he craned his neck. “Let the gel go. Good riddance, I say. I’ve had enough of Andrew’s spawn in my house.”
“On the contrary, Father. I’m doing as you bid. I’m proposing. Oh, and I believe I forgot to mention, Simon Andrews will be attending the house party. I, on the other hand, will not.”
“The devil you say?”
Father collapsed back into his chair, staring at Chester as if seeing him for the first time.
Clasping Eden’s hands, Chester dropped to one knee.
“Eglantina Eden Aster Haverden, t
he moment you plowed into me at the Fox and Falcon, I knew you were something special. And with each passing day, each hour, every minute, I’ve become more besotted, more entranced, and more convinced that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I adore you. Will you marry me?”
“What?” Father’s strangled objections sounded like something between a rooster crowing and a sheep’s bleating. He pushed to his feet. “No. No. I forbid such a misalliance. You must propose to Miss Bickford.”
Brow quirked, Chester glanced behind him.
“I never mentioned a woman’s name. I only agreed to propose. And I’ve done so, as you’ve witnessed. I shall hold you to your oath.” He spared the duke no quarter. “You are done manipulating me and others. Any children I father will be with this precious woman, if she’ll have me.”
Chester returned his attention to Eden, regarding him with such tenderness, moisture stung his eyes.
“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her through adjoining doors, then into the rose gardens.
Amid the backdrop of blooming roses, he gathered her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her welcoming mouth. “Say you’ll marry me, Eden. I do love you. More than I even knew I could love anyone. I’ve waited a lifetime for you.”
“Are you positive, Chester?” She hugged his waist, her head resting against his chest. “Even knowing who I am? Even knowing your father is set against it?”
He tipped her chin up. “My mother was a wise woman. She said if I were ever lucky enough to find a woman I loved more than life itself to toss everything else aside to be with her. So, yes, Eden. I am absolutely sure.”
Her gaze strayed to the doors they’d just exited. “I cannot live here.”
“Neither can I. We’ll go to the seashore. There’s a ducal estate near Brighton.” He kissed her nose. “Yes, you can have your chickens and bees and Peony. As bitter as my father is now, I pray when the grandchildren begin arriving—and I hope we have a passel—he’ll come around.”
Eden stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down until their lips met. She kissed him, and as her soft mouth moved beneath his, Chester’s heart burgeoned with joy.
Rogues to Lovers: Legend of the Blue Rose Page 55