How to Marry a Duke

by Vicky Dreiling

  “Why not feed him the scraps from my plate, too?” Tristan grumbled.

  The duchess ignored him. “Miss Mansfield, what is your opinion of Hawk?”

  Tessa blinked. “Er, he seems a jolly sort of gentleman.”

  “He is a rogue and a charmer.” The duchess fingered her quizzing glass. “I believe he needs a strong-willed woman to reform him.”

  Tessa stilled. “Well, you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink.”

  A sly expression appeared in the duchess’s eyes. “Unless you make him thirsty.”

  “Enough, Mama,” Tristan said in a stern tone. “You will cease this matchmaking scheme.”

  “I have a suitable lady in mind for him,” the duchess said. “He is an earl, and I’m certain his mother would approve.”

  Tristan bolted off the sofa. “Absolutely not.”

  The duchess regarded him with an odd, knowing smile. “I see no objection.”

  “I object,” he gritted out.

  “Duchess, who do you have in mind for Hawk?” Tessa asked.

  Tristan glared at his mother. “Do not even consider answering that question. We have an agreement. You are not to interfere.”

  “See that you apply yourself,” the duchess said with a sniff.

  Tessa watched them with bewilderment. Their cryptic conversation gave her the impression she’d missed something, but she could not figure it out for the life of her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tristan tugged at his tight cravat as if it were a matrimonial noose.

  He sat in a circle with his sister, Hawk, and the final five bridal candidates in preparation for the parlor game. In the adjoining red drawing room, his mother entertained the girls’ mothers.

  Their daughters whispered and cast surreptitious glances his way. Then they dissolved into giggles. Tristan met Hawk’s amused gaze. The bridal candidates were the sort of young girls they had both avoided for years. They reminded him of his little sister. Sweet, innocent, immature girls.

  The reality of the situation slammed into his head like a hammer. He was obliged to wed one of them. The day he’d told the girls he would choose only one, he’d made an explicit promise. Their parents and all of society expected him to choose one. To do otherwise meant dishonor to him and his family. He had no choice.

  Well, he had five choices, and at the moment, not one of them appealed to him.

  When Tessa took a chair beside him, she leaned over and whispered, “You seem a bit discomposed.”

  “I am not,” he said through gritted teeth. He’d merely succumbed to a moment of panic. All men got cold feet when faced with the end of their bachelorhood. The best cure for irrational emotions was rational thinking. Forcing himself to consider the situation logically, he mentally reviewed his duchess qualifications.

  Age twenty-one: Only Miss Hardwick qualified. Since he couldn’t envision bashful Amy as a duchess, he amended his age requirement—downward.

  Single, never married, and of noble birth: Check.

  Training in planning social events and managing servants: Georgette and Amy, the least childish of the five, had helped plan that disastrous barge trip. A bad omen.

  Intelligent conversation: Snort.

  Sound judgment based on rationality rather than emotion: Debatable.

  Gracefulness, dutifulness, modesty, and decorum: Check. Then he recalled the name calling and shoving at the speedy courting session. Uncheck.

  Virtuous: Check. Well, as far as he knew.

  And of course he wanted passion. He looked at Georgette, the prettiest of them all, and tried to envision her in his bed. He conjured up an image of her grasping a sheet to her chin with her eyes squeezed shut. Thinking of England, no doubt.

  He reminded himself it was his duty to teach his virginal wife the pleasures of lovemaking. While he’d never bedded a virgin, he’d certainly kissed one. The memory of Tessa’s abandoned response stirred his blood. Despite her innocence, she’d reacted passionately to his every touch. Surely it would be the same with his wife. After all, he had an arsenal of seduction techniques. But he could not deny his reaction to Tessa was different. From the first moment he’d seen her, he’d desired her. And that desire had only grown over time. Even now, he was much too aware of the rustle of her skirts, her soft breathing, and her rose perfume. Damnation, he had to stop thinking about her.

  No more lusty visions of her naked in his bed. Naked in a bath. Naked in a field of leaves. Naked on his lap. No, no, no.

  She leaned toward him. “Are you ready?” she murmured.

  No. “Yes.”

  She clasped her hands and smiled at everyone. “This is a new sort of guessing game, one I invented especially for the courtship. Beginning with Lady Georgette, each of the bridal candidates will ask the duke a question.”

  While she continued to explain the convoluted rules, something to do with the girls’ seeking the advice of Julianne and Hawk, Tristan’s thoughts wandered. He couldn’t ask what he really wanted to know. Will you be an angel in the ballroom and a temptress in my bed?

  After a great deal of giggling among the girls, Tessa managed to get them to settle in for the game. “Lady Georgette, you may begin.”

  She smiled, revealing her twin dimples. “Your Grace, how many girls have you kissed?”

  The other girls tittered.

  “None,” he said.

  “That cannot be true.” Priscilla Prescott straightened her back like a broomstick.

  Tessa shook her head. “No one is allowed to help her, unless she appeals to Lord Hawkfield or Julianne.”

  Lady Georgette turned to Hawk. “My lord?”

  “Let me think.” He counted in French on his fingers. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix.” He glanced up. “I’ve run out of fingers.”

  “Try not to strain your meager brain,” Tristan muttered.

  The girls burst out laughing.

  “Shall we continue?” Tessa said. “Georgette, you must declare true or false.”

  Uncertainty flitted through her eyes. “Um, false?”

  Tessa turned to him. “Is her answer correct?”

  He’d missed this particular rule. “No.”

  Georgette twirled a blond curl. “You’ve never been kissed either?”

  The other girls snickered behind their hands.

  Tristan shrugged. “I have never kissed a girl, but I have kissed women.”

  Tessa smiled. “That was a trick. Now it’s your turn to ask Lady Georgette a question.”

  He’d missed that rule, too. “I believe Lady Georgette already answered my question.”

  Georgette released her curl. She looked confused. “I did?”

  Julianne made an exasperated sound. “Georgette, you goose. You admitted you’ve never been kissed.”

  Georgette blushed. “Of course I would never be alone with a gentleman, much less kiss one. Mama says it gives gentlemen ideas.” She frowned. “She would not tell me what ideas.”

  Hawk feigned a perplexed look. “I wonder what she meant.”

  “Ahem,” Tessa said. “I believe it is Miss Shepherd’s turn.”

  The round-faced brunette scrunched her forehead as if deep in thought. Suddenly she brightened. “I have it. Your Grace, do you prefer dogs, horses, or sheep?”

  He wondered if his ears were clogged. “Miss Shepherd, did you say sheep?”

  Sally twittered. “Oh, yes. My brother Charles adores our sheep. He gives all the ewes names. His favorite is Louisa. Isn’t that sweet?”

  Do not laugh. Whatever you do, do not laugh. He made the mistake of glancing at Hawk, who slid down in his chair, his shoulders shaking. Tristan covered his mouth with his fist.

  Tessa narrowed her eyes, as if warning him. “Your answer?”

  “Er, horses.”

  Sally pouted. “You don’t like sheep?”

  “True,” he said.

  “They are not abiding by the rules,” Priscilla said.


  Tristan glanced at Miss Prescott’s broomstick posture and imagined her standing that way while he tried to get her nightgown off. She’d probably insist on keeping it on. He mentally crossed her off the list.

  Sally blinked. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Tessa gave her an indulgent smile. “You did well. Now, it is the duke’s turn to ask Miss Shepherd a question.”

  He thought a minute. “Think about a time when you did something you knew was wrong. Tell me what happened.” He hoped it had nothing to do with little lambs.

  “Not long ago, I did something very bad,” Sally said. “I stole my sister Sarah’s love letter and read it.”

  Julianne’s eyes lit with mischief. “What did it say?”

  Sally wrinkled her nose. “It was all nonsense to me. The gentleman signed himself as Lord Randy. He said he wished to plunder the treasure in the bush and claimed he carried a candlestick in his, er, unmentionables.”

  Hawk bent over, wheezing and coughing. Julianne pounded his back. Georgette cried out, “He’s choking.”

  Tristan looked up at the fat cherubs painted on the ceiling, seeking divine intervention from the gentleman upstairs.

  When all the young ladies expressed their concern for Hawk’s health, Tessa assured them he would survive. “Let us continue. Miss Prescott, I believe it is your turn.”

  She pushed back her shoulders, thrusting out her flat bosom. “What is your favorite dish?”

  “Pickled eels,” he said.

  She turned to Julianne. “True or false?”

  Julianne shrugged. “True.”

  “I disagree,” Priscilla said.

  “You are correct.” Tristan glanced at the mantel clock. This game was proving a colossal waste of time.

  Tessa nudged him with her elbow. “You may ask Miss Prescott a question.”

  He returned his attention to Miss Prescott. Even though he’d crossed her off his list, he must ask her something. He decided to test her insistence on following rules. “Miss Prescott, when you are confronted with a dilemma, where right and wrong are not necessarily clear, how do you make a decision? You may cite an example.”

  “Oh, it is always clear to me what is right and wrong,” Priscilla said with confidence. “I abide by the proprieties in every situation.”

  She’d confirmed his opinion of her. “Thank you. That will be all.”

  “Lady Suzanne, it is your turn,” Tessa said.

  Suzanne considered him from beneath her lashes, a practiced, coquettish look. “Your Grace, why did you select me as one of the final five candidates?”

  Actually he’d eliminated the ones he knew didn’t suit. The others, with the exception of Amy, remained by default, but of course he wouldn’t admit that. “I selected all of you because you were the nicest girls.”

  Suzanne pouted like a child. The chit had obviously been hoping for a compliment. When Tessa asked her to declare his answer true or false, she answered true in a miffed tone.

  “Do you have a question for Lady Suzanne?” Tessa asked him.

  “Yes. Lady Suzanne, what do you consider to be your greatest asset?”

  She dipped her chin. “Oh, I should not say.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Is he allowed to ask that?” Priscilla the rule keeper said in her snooty voice.

  Julianne snorted. “He’s a duke. He can do whatever he wants.”

  Hawk pouted. “I’m so jealous,” he said in a falsetto voice.

  Everyone laughed, with the exception of Priscilla, who pinched her lips.

  Tessa calmed everyone. “Lady Suzanne, you may continue.”

  By now, Tristan had already forgotten what he’d asked her.

  Suzanne dipped her chin again. “Mama says my best asset is my beauty, but of course, beauty must be more than skin deep.”

  Tristan gazed at her, expecting more, but she only batted her lashes.

  “Now it is Miss Hardwick’s turn,” Tessa said.

  The shy girl contemplated her folded hands. When her silence stretched out, the other girls fidgeted. Once again, Tristan wondered if he’d done Amy a disservice by keeping her in the courtship this long. She’d seemed to improve under his sister’s influence, but when faced with a crowd, she shriveled.

  Priscilla made an exasperated sound. “Amy, if you cannot think of a question, then pass.”

  Tristan gripped the arms of his chair. “There is no time limit.”

  “I am only trying to help her,” Priscilla said. “It is obvious she does not have any ideas.”

  Amy lifted her chin, and this time, she didn’t hesitate. “Miss Prescott, I realize my silence makes you uncomfortable. However, I am mindful that there is an important purpose underlying the game. Therefore, I wish to think carefully before I speak.”

  Julianne punched her fist in the air and grinned. Georgette squeezed Amy’s hand. Hawk winked. “Well said, Miss Hardwick.”

  Tristan regarded Amy with newfound respect. “Take all the time you need, Miss Hardwick.”

  Though she blushed, Amy regarded him steadily. “I am ready, Your Grace.” She drew in her breath as if mustering her courage. “What is the single most important quality you seek in a wife?”

  Amy had stunned him. Of all the girls, she had asked a question of significance, one that cut straight to the heart of the courtship. He reviewed his qualifications again and decided he’d left out an important item. “Loyalty,” he said.

  “Miss Mansfield, may I ask the duke a clarifying question?” Amy asked.

  Tessa looked at him. “Your Grace?”

  “Of course,” Tristan answered.

  Amy exhaled, but her gaze never wavered from him. “Loyalty can mean many things. What does it mean to you?”

  “A thoughtful question. For me, loyalty means my wife will act with honor and always be truthful with me.”

  Amy nodded. “Honesty is important in any close relationship. A marriage without trust would sour quickly.”

  “Once trust is broken, there will always be suspicion thereafter,” Tristan said.

  “True or false?” Tessa said gently.

  Amy kept her gaze on him. “I know he is telling the truth.”

  When everyone else started chattering, Tristan tugged on his sleeves, unable to look at Amy any longer. Of the five, she alone had shown maturity and intelligence in her questions and responses. On paper, she fit most of his qualifications. Possibly all, for he’d wager she’d had nothing to do with the decision to take a barge to Ashdown House. He’d felt she understood him in ways the other girls did not. As much as he respected and liked her, he knew he was the wrong man for her. She would be much happier as the wife of a clergyman, a role where her husband and the parishioners would appreciate her quiet thoughtfulness.

  The mothers entered and made a great to-do about all the laughter they’d heard. All complimented Tessa on her suggestion for a parlor game. Tristan glanced at his mother, who stood at the door with a secretive smile. Obviously she’d succeeded at championing Tessa.

  This afternoon, his mother had agreed to let him speak to Tessa alone after the parlor game, provided he broached the subject of marriage. At last, he’d have the opportunity to warn Tessa.

  Tristan made a point of speaking to each of the girls and their mothers as they departed. When at last he came to Mrs. Hardwick, her sweet smile reminded him of her daughter. “Amy has told us how much she admires you.”

  Amy blushed and lowered her lashes.

  “I am honored by your regard, Miss Hardwick,” he said. But he didn’t feel worthy of Amy’s admiration. He’d kept her in the courtship out of pity and judged her only for what he saw on the surface. Today, the girl he had judged least likely had exposed the shallow side of him.

  The duchess shooed Hawk and Julianne from the yellow drawing room. Then she addressed her son. “I will leave you to discuss the eliminations with Miss Mansfield. You will also address that other matter.”

  After she left, Tessa glanced
at him. “I am surprised your mother did not insist we include her.”

  “I convinced her we needed to discuss the courtship in private.” He started pacing in front of the marble fireplace.

  “Tristan, what is troubling you?”

  “I should have eliminated Amy Hardwick weeks ago.”

  “Amy has benefited from the experience,” Tessa said.

  He halted. “I gave her preferential treatment week after week. Today, I’d decided to eliminate her. But tell me how I’m to do it when she outshone all the others.”

  She had to reassure him. “Today she showed incredible courage. While your sister helped her, you are equally responsible for her transformation.”

  “I take no credit for her improvement.”

  “Not long ago, you told her if she didn’t believe herself worthy, no one else would. Today she stood up for herself. She has learned her own worth.”

  “She would never be able to withstand the scrutiny of being my duchess. But if I eliminate her, I’ll feel as if I’ve kicked a puppy.”

  “You have given Amy a gift she will take with her the rest of her life.”

  “She’ll conclude I’m a cad who judged her by appearances only, just like all the others. And make no mistake. I did.”

  Tessa had encouraged him to make allowances for Amy. Now she must convince him that he’d done the right thing. “She will not forget your kindness.”

  “Miss Hardwick deserves much better than crumbs from me. Hell, I don’t deserve her.”

  Tessa thought his concerns and admiration for Amy showed how much he’d progressed since that first day he’d asked her to make him a match. But they needed to discuss the other bridal candidates as well. “I believe you learned more than a little about the five girls,” Tessa said. “Come, let us sit and review your opinions of all of them.”

  He pulled out a chair for her and sat in one directly across.

  “Now, think carefully about each one,” Tessa said. “How would you describe them?”

  “The beautiful one, the witless one, the spiteful one, the vain one, and the bashful one.”