How to Marry a Duke

by Vicky Dreiling

  “Then why did you participate in the first place?”

  “Mama insisted,” she whispered. “I know I do not belong with all the other pretty girls.”

  Blinding pain, like a giant fist, slammed into Tessa’s heart. Oh, dear God, she’d only wanted to help. Instead, she’d inadvertently wounded Amy.

  The duke shifted in his chair. “Miss Hardwick, you give yourself too little credit. Character is more important than beauty.”

  “Mama says beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Her slender fingers curled into her palms. “It is not true.”

  “I know one thing to be true,” he said. “If you do not believe yourself worthy, no one else will.”

  She jerked her chin up.

  “Because I find your honesty refreshing, I would like to extend an invitation to you,” he said. “There is one stipulation, however.”

  Tessa held her breath, unable to believe her ears. He was giving Amy a chance.

  “You must answer the question. What do you want from marriage?”

  “Oh.” Amy swallowed. “I—I’m not exactly sure.”

  “Surely you’ve daydreamed about marriage,” Tessa said. She could feel Shelbourne looking at her, but she kept her attention on Amy. “What do you see?”

  “Mama says I must not reveal my bluestocking tendencies.” Amy clutched her trembling hands. “But I always dreamed of being a great political hostess,” she said in a rush. “As a means of helping my husband’s career.”

  Tessa exchanged a stunned look with Shelbourne. She could not envision shy Amy holding court with cynical politicians.

  “I know it is foolish of me.” Amy blushed. “My brain freezes when I am in a group.”

  “People are drawn to those who express interest in their opinions,” Shelbourne said. “You need only ask a few questions. Believe me, they will think favorably of you.”

  She regarded him with something akin to worship. “Thank you for the advice. I will always remember your kindness.”

  He held out the invitation. “Will you accept this?”

  Amy nodded, and for the first time that day, she smiled. Tessa blinked back the hot moisture pooling in her eyes. Oh, she’d not known he could be so wonderful. As she rose to escort Amy to the door, she glanced back at him and silently mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He scowled. Silly duke. He thought himself unaffected by tender emotions, but now she knew the truth.

  After Amy left, Tessa returned to the yellow drawing room to find him standing and tugging at his sleeves. “May I ask why you eliminated the girls who said they only wanted to give you an heir? I thought you wanted a dutiful wife.”

  His eyes gleamed with a wicked expression. “I fear the answer might shock you.”

  “How silly. I’m not a naïve girl.” She took a step closer to him. “I insist you tell me.”

  “Very well.” He closed the distance between them. The subtle scents of sandalwood, starch, and male curled through her senses. She was aware of his powerful chest, the slight bristle shadowing his jaw, and the sound of his breathing. Every inch of her skin tingled in response to him. Everything inside her wanted him to touch her.

  Then his voice startled her. “I’d rather my wife not think about duty on our wedding night,” he said.

  His words took a moment to register. When they did, she gasped. “You are outrageous.”

  He treated her to a lopsided smile. “You insisted.”

  Although her cheeks burned, she refused to let him best her. “Perhaps I’ll tell them to think of England.”

  He leaned down and his breath whispered across her cheek, like a caress. “Patriotism isn’t one of my requirements.”

  The next afternoon, Tessa brushed the feathers of her quill against her cheek as she tried without success to reply to a letter from her solicitor. She dipped the quill in the inkwell, but she blotted the paper. Frustrated, she capped the inkwell and crumpled the ruined page. She could not concentrate because her thoughts kept returning to Shelbourne.

  All last night, she’d thought about his response when she’d asked him why he eliminated the girls who only wanted to do their duty. He’d flustered her by drawing too near, so near the scent of him had mesmerized her and sent a flood of heat flowing through her veins. Then he’d fobbed her off with a risqué jest.

  He’d subjected her to his wicked teasing before. The rake knew exactly what he was doing. And a very secret part of her liked it.

  The door sighed open, startling her. Tessa rose as Gravesend announced Shelbourne. Her pulse quickened as she drank in the sight of him. He wore a blue coat that magnified his expressive eyes. Something sweet unfurled in her chest as he sat across from her. Yesterday, he’d revealed himself to be a fair and kind man when he’d treated Amy Hardwick with special gentleness.

  “Thank you for receiving me.” His gaze slanted over to Jane, who sat at the round table, concentrating on her needlework.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again,” Tessa said. Now that there were only ten candidates left, she must accelerate her efforts to open his heart. She had to encourage the tenderness he’d revealed, not an easy task with any man, much less Shelbourne.

  Jane set her needlework aside. “I will ring for a tea tray.”

  Pleased with her companion’s initiative, Tessa nodded. Then she smiled at the duke. “I assume you wish to discuss the next round of the courtship.”

  “Yes. I have an idea.”

  Tessa stilled. Oh, heavens, what if he proposed another one of his ridiculous tests? If he did, she would have to think of some way to deter him, but she’d no intention of doing so in Jane’s presence. Tessa had explained to her companion that the duke felt less inhibited without an audience, so they had arranged a private signal. Tessa glanced at Jane and nodded once.

  Jane rose again, curtseyed, and slipped outside the drawing room. Shelbourne watched her with a puzzled expression.

  “I ask Jane to be present only at the beginning to preserve the proprieties,” Tessa said.

  Shelbourne blew out his breath. “Once again, I am putting your reputation at risk.”

  “The risk is minimal. I’ve also spoken to my butler. He is a faithful retainer and served my uncle before me. Gravesend understands our meetings are confidential.”

  Shelbourne frowned. “But what of your other servants?”

  “They are loyal.” At his skeptical look, she added, “I pay them twice the standard wages and hire more than strictly necessary, so they are not overburdened.” She smiled. “I treat them with respect, and in return they are devoted to me. So you need not worry on my account.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You have an idea for the next round of the courtship?” she said.

  He nodded. “I spoke to Hawk, and he suggested a tour of the gardens at Ashdown House. Richmond is close enough for a day trip.”

  “What a wonderful suggestion. I definitely approve.” She’d heard the famous Capability Browne had designed the gardens. “Will Lord Hawkfield’s mother join us?”

  “No. All his family is in Bath visiting his ailing grandmother. Except his younger brother, who is taking his grand tour.”

  “How fortunate for the young man the war is over,” Tessa said.

  “Hawk was thankful the war ended before William reached his majority.”

  Tessa folded her hands in her lap. “Did you consider serving your country?”

  “For me, there was no choice. I couldn’t abandon my family or my responsibilities to the estate.”

  “What about Lord Hawkfield?”

  “Oh, he was primed to go after Old Boney, but his mother begged him not to leave.” The duke looked troubled. “I discouraged him as well. To be honest, my reasons were selfish. I could not bear the possibility of my friend being maimed or killed.”

  Guilt seized her, thinking of Anne’s brother. But he’d made his choice.

  “I’ve often questioned my interference,” Shelbourne said.

 
“If you had not counseled him, perhaps he would have gone to war. Had he suffered injury or death, you would forever regret not speaking your mind. Ultimately, the decision was his to make.”

  His intent blue gaze snared her. “How wise you are.”

  If only she could turn back the clock and apply that hard-earned wisdom. But dwelling on the past would change nothing. “Since Lord Hawkfield’s mother will not be in residence, we should invite your mother.”

  “No, she’ll interfere.”

  “You agreed to include your mother once you had eliminated several candidates,” Tessa said.

  “Not now.”

  She sighed. “I need another lady to help chaperone. The girls’ families will feel more assured of the propriety of the event if your mother is present.”

  He tapped his thumb on the chair. “I concede your point. But this is not an invitation for my mother to participate every week.”

  Tessa smiled. “Now, perhaps we should think about some activities in addition to touring the gardens. I will select four candidates to make plans. Of course, I will assist them.”

  “Allow them to do all the planning,” he said. “I wish to see if they have the proper training required of a duchess.”

  When the tea tray arrived, she poured. “Cream?” she asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  She handed him a cup. Then she sliced a generous portion of cake with currants and walked over to him. When she handed him the plate, their fingers brushed. Her breath hitched at the warmth of his skin. As she returned to her seat, she told herself to stop acting like a schoolgirl. Then, unable to help herself, she stole a look at him.

  He bit into the confection with an expression of decadent pleasure. Then he met her gaze. His lashes lowered in a seductive look as he slowly licked a stray crumb from his mouth.

  She caught her breath, imagining his tongue on her lips. When he gave her a sultry smile, her face heated. Determined to recover her poise, she focused on drinking her tea. A few minutes later, he polished off his cake and looked at her hopefully.

  She set her cup aside. “Another?”

  “Yes, please,” he said.

  After she brought him another slice of cake, he grinned. “When I was a boy, I used to sneak into the kitchen and beg for sweets.”

  “And I’m sure you were indulged.” She returned to the settee and picked up her dish of tea.

  “Until I got sick from eating too much,” he said.

  “What happened?” She smiled, expecting a humorous story.

  “My father sacked the cook for overfeeding me.”

  “Rather harsh of him.” Oh, dear, she should not have let that slip.

  Shelbourne shrugged. “He was in his cups.”

  Tessa contemplated her tea, fearing her shock showed on her face. “Did he ban you from the kitchen?”

  “No, but I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else losing their position, so I stayed away.” He bit into the cake.

  She winced. He’d been a mere boy.

  “You needn’t look so stricken,” he said. “It happened a long time ago.”

  Tessa remembered what he’d told her the day he’d requested her matchmaking services. All who depend on me know safety and security. Had there been none under his father’s rule? “How old were you when your father died?”

  “Seventeen.” He took another bite.

  “I was seventeen when I took over the housekeeping for my uncle after my aunt’s death,” she said, setting her empty cup aside.

  “So we have something in common,” he said. “I’m sure you were a great comfort to your uncle.”

  Guilt spurted in her chest. She brushed her skirts, hoping he’d not noticed her discomposure.

  “I’m sorry,” Shelbourne said. “Obviously, you still grieve for him.”

  She met his gaze. “My uncle was a wonderful man.” As she often did when uncomfortable, she turned the topic away from herself. “How did you manage your university studies under the circumstances?”

  Something—was it regret?—flickered in his eyes. “I had private tutors.”

  He’d had no choice. She wondered what else he’d sacrificed for duty. “It must have been difficult.”

  Shelbourne set his plate aside. “After my father’s death, I discovered we were on the brink of financial ruin. The total encumbrances of the estates were staggering compared to the annual income.”

  She shivered. All her life, she’d taken her family’s wealth for granted, until her uncle had died and left her his fortune. Without it, she would have suffered in ways she did not like to contemplate. “I would not know where to begin in such a situation.”

  “At first I was overwhelmed by the extent of the debt I’d inherited, but I preferred being in control.”

  “However did you overcome your financial difficulties?”

  “I liquidated property not subject to entail. Then I made investments in shipping expeditions. I had to make ruthless decisions,” he said. “I could not afford sentimentality. So I sold whatever I could and put off repairs to the estate in Oxfordshire. I had two criteria for every decision I made. It had to be either absolutely necessary or contribute funds.”

  “What else could you have done?” she said.

  “Oh, there is an easier path for gentlemen with pockets to let.”

  Marry a woman of fortune. Her eyes widened.

  “I could not stomach the idea of marrying for money,” he said.

  “Most gentlemen in your situation would not blink an eye.”

  “Society considers wedding for money an acceptable option, but I had my reasons.”

  She wanted to know more, but he didn’t volunteer the information.

  “I’ve bored you sufficiently with my history,” he said.

  The cynical amusement in his blue eyes was a mask. He’d shared a painful part of his past, and yet, he’d related it in an offhand manner. She wanted to tell him how much she admired him, but a sixth sense told her he would mock her in self-defense. Instead, she planted an impish smile on her face. “I think you have more than a few commendable traits.”

  He chuckled. “I shall try not to disappoint you too much.”

  Disappoint her? On the contrary, he’d demonstrated his unwavering commitment to family and duty. Shelbourne had already made so many sacrifices. He deserved the ultimate happiness in marriage. What he needed was a wife who would appreciate his unselfish commitment to duty. Most of all, he deserved a wife who loved him enough to open his heart.

  He watched her intently. “I can practically see the cogs and wheels churning in your brain. What are you thinking?”

  She must tread carefully. Playing on his droll sense of humor might keep him from balking. “Oh, I was thinking you are entirely too tender-hearted. You really must not wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  A warm laugh escaped him. “I see what you’re about. You’re trying to tease me before you lecture me.”

  “No lectures,” she said. “Only a few suggestions.”

  His eyes glinted with cynicism again.

  “Never mind,” she said. “You need not make any special efforts. After all, the girls are courting you.”

  He looked affronted. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You are in an enviable position compared to most gentlemen seeking a wife. You needn’t exert yourself at all. All you need do is sit back and let the girls woo you.”

  “I fully intend to control this courtship.”

  “Oh,” she said, biting back the urge to smile. “Do you have something particular in mind?”

  He scowled. “You’re the expert on these matters.”

  She’d hooked him. Now all she need do was reel him in. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

  “Such as?”

  “A lady is always flattered when a gentleman asks how he might please her.”

  His blue eyes lit with a devilish expression. “I shall be sure to ask my bride how I might best please her.”

&n
bsp; Heat flooded her face again. Although she was embarrassed, she must not allow him to distract her. “I am referring to special gestures that show you care.”

  “You mean poetry and posies. I will not pretend to be romantic.”

  “Actually it will be far more effective if you focus on something special to the individual ladies.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” he said.

  “Suppose you were competing with another man for a girl’s affections. The other gentleman brings flowers and sends poems. What would you do to top him?”

  “Shoot him.”

  She laughed. “As I said before, ladies expect tenderness. For a woman, these special gestures are proof of affection.”

  “So you’re saying it isn’t enough that I promise constancy, a stable home life, and respect,” he said, a note of defensiveness in his voice.

  “Make no mistake. Those qualities speak highly of your honorable character. But think what it would mean to you if your wife gave you some token of her regard, something she knew would make you feel special.”

  “I’ve no need of tokens. What will please me is if my wife seamlessly carries out her duties.”

  She must remain patient with him. “Women expect gifts, Your Grace.”

  “You mean jewels.”

  “A gift that is specially chosen is more valuable to a woman than the most expensive jewel.”

  “How am I to know what trinkets make a woman feel special?”

  “Observation,” she said.

  “Men are not good at guessing what is in a woman’s thoughts. We don’t think alike at all.”

  “That isn’t true of all men,” she said.

  He regarded her with suspicion. “You have evidence of this?”

  She glanced down at her clasped hands. “After my parents died, I found a box of notes among my mother’s treasures. There were literally hundreds of them. Every morning, my father left a note on my mother’s pillow.” She paused, remembering how those words had brought tears to her eyes. Other than her mother’s jewels, those notes were all she had left of her parents.

  Shelbourne looked puzzled. “Notes?”

  She had never told anyone about them before. Even now the memory brought an ache to her heart. Though her parents had died ten years ago, she still missed them. “My father wrote the same thing every day. You are my one and only, for all eternity.”