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Dawn with a Duke: 12 Dukes of Christmas #9

Page 14

by Erica Ridley


  The duke snorted softly. “I once had a hedgehog named Lépine.”

  Calvin closed his eyes. Belle had taken her pseudonym after her brother’s childhood pet?

  Quickly, he moved to the manikin and began to point out various aspects of its carefully detailed attire. “Here, we can see—”

  A distant door blew open and footsteps rushed down the corridor.

  Belle burst into the parlor without removing her hat or gloves or the snow clinging to her hair and shoulders.

  His chest lightened at the sight of her—he could not help himself—followed by an immediate sickening dip in his stomach. Her presence would ruin everything, if the duke so much as suspected—

  “Calvin,” she breathed.

  “Belle?” said the duke in obvious befuddlement. “How the devil do you know—”

  “Who on earth is—” Jonathan whispered at the same time.

  “Mrs. Lépine,” said Belle.

  “Oh,” Jonathan said. “That explains everything.”

  “You’re the hedgehog?” Nottingvale roared, a question that made shockingly more sense than it ought.

  “And your sister Lady Isabelle,” she assured the duke as though his face weren’t the shade of an overripe strawberry. She curtsied to Jonathan. “You must be Mr. MacLean.”

  Jonathan made a fabulous leg. “At your service.”

  “Nobody is at her service!” The duke whirled on his sister. “Explain yourself.”

  “I will. But not to you.”

  From the dumbfounded expression on Nottingvale’s face, this was the first time his sister had defied him. Or perhaps it was the first time his will had ever been thwarted at all.

  “Calvin,” she said again, once she was standing right before him, close enough to touch. “I treated you poorly. You did not deserve it. I was a fool.”

  “Belle,” warned the duke. “If you do not explain yourself at once...”

  She spun toward him. “What shall I explain? That you believe me a silly flibbertigibbet? Or shall I inform you that contrary to my family’s beliefs, I have my own thoughts and my own interests and pursuing them is the only time I have ever felt free?”

  The duke folded his arms across his broad chest. “Am I to presume one such interest you’ve pursued is the tailor standing before me?”

  Calvin’s palms went clammy. There it went. His project, his life, the investment, any business relationship with Jonathan, his financial future, all because he couldn’t keep his breeches buttoned.

  If Belle would just stop talking, she would at least have a chance of saving herself and her reputation.

  “Belle, I haven’t the patience for nonsense. You may go to your chamber, and gentlemen, it seems we are finished. I am sorry we did not have time for your presentation, but I am no longer in the market for—”

  “Now who’s spouting nonsense?” Belle’s hazel eyes flashed with anger. “If you dismiss this opportunity out of hand, the biggest fool in the room is you.”

  Nottingvale’s shocked expression matched Calvin’s and Jonathan’s. “What do you know about—”

  “I painted the sketches, didn’t I? The designs are breathtaking. The catalogue is brilliant. It will quickly be the talk of the town. Every town, not just London. These men deserve your respect and your attention. If you are too arrogant to listen, I will invest in your place and cut you out completely.”

  “I thought we were finished,” Jonathan whispered. “And now we’re in a... bidding war?”

  “Belle,” Nottingvale said patiently. “The name of the couture is Fit for a Duke.”

  “And you think your shoulders are the only ones broad enough to support it? The name is Fit for a Duke, not ‘Fit for His Arrogance, the Duke of Nottingvale.’ I know all the same dukes you do, two of which spend their Yuletide here in Cressmouth. I could find a willing replacement by walking down the street.”

  “You... would never,” the duke sputtered.

  “Are you so insightful about others?” Belle asked. “Then you must have realized Calvin is just as talented at designing fashions for women as for men. I could help him start an even bigger empire by expanding in that direction. Just watch.”

  Belle tossed her hat and gloves onto a wing chair. She shrugged out of her pelisse and flung it atop in an unceremonious heap.

  She was wearing the gown Calvin had designed for her.

  His chest tilted. She did not need to wear it. Now that her maid was healthy, Belle could wear any gown in her collection without need of Calvin’s hands or his designs. She’d chosen to wear it anyway. She thought it brilliant.

  He stared at her in wonder. As big as he and Jonathan had thought they were thinking, Belle was already past them, thinking even bigger. She didn’t just believe in him. She was confident enough to put her reputation behind it.

  “Walk away if you like,” she said to her brother. “It would be a mistake. One I shan’t be repeating. Anyone with half a brain can recognize a treasure worth keeping.”

  She took a deep breath and turned to Calvin.

  “I have spent the last four-and-twenty years trying so hard to live up to everyone else’s idea of what I should be, that I never had time to fathom out what I wanted.” Her eyes held his. “Now I know.”

  His chest pounded uncomfortably loud. He could not look away.

  “I love you,” she said simply. “The life I want is one with you, whatever it might be. I know you think you spent the past fortnight with a chimera—”

  “He what?” the duke exploded.

  “Excellent reason to be late to the meeting,” Jonathan whispered.

  Calvin ignored both of them.

  “I have never been more myself than in the moments I shared with you.” Her eyes glistened. “You weren’t wasting your time with a mirage. I’m a real woman, with a few false names. The rest of my life received a false front, but what I had with you was real. I don’t want to lose that, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  He still loved her, of course. And he believed that she had enjoyed their time together just as much as he did. But her objections to the match were based on facts that had not changed.

  “You’re a lady,” he pointed out. “I’m a common tailor.”

  “An uncommon tailor.” Her eyes twinkled. “With many fine talents that shall not be named in polite company.”

  The Duke of Nottingvale groaned into his palms.

  “I don’t fit in your social circles,” Calvin pointed out. “If you marry me, neither will you.”

  “I don’t enjoy the beau monde,” she assured him. “Have you met my brother? He’s positively insufferable.”

  Calvin used to believe everyone in the haut ton must be awful. He never thought he’d be able to withstand a single moment in the company of his “betters.”

  But then he’d met Belle, and experienced the best fortnight of his life with a woman who was secretly the sister of a duke. She wasn’t some nameless, faceless aristocrat, but rather a talented, flawed, vulnerable, multifaceted person, just like anyone else.

  Except he couldn’t make do with just anyone else. He’d fallen for Belle.

  He took her hands in his.

  “I want you no matter what your name is. I loved you when you were Mrs. Lépine, I loved you when you were Belle, and I still love you even when you’re Lady Isabelle.”

  “You say that like it’s bad.” The duke harrumphed. “I, for one, honor and respect my title and my position, and will wed as befits my station.”

  “Five quid says Fate has other plans,” Jonathan whispered.

  “Make it twenty,” Belle whispered back. “The high and mighty are difficult to topple.”

  “I can hear you,” the duke ground out.

  Belle squeezed Calvin’s hands, her eyes bright with mischief and love. “There’s only one thing I want. And it’s you.”

  “There had better be two things,” he warned her. “Your picture book will make just as big a splash as Fit for a Duke. And
it shall have your name on it.” He grinned at her. “I cannot wait to be known as Mrs. McAlistair’s husband, Calvin.”

  She grinned back at him. “And I cannot wait to be known as Mr. McAlistair’s wife, Belle.”

  “I suppose you lot want my blessing,” Nottingvale drawled.

  “We don’t need it,” Belle informed him. “I’m past the age of majority.”

  “Well, you have it anyway,” the duke grumbled. “You’re my sister. Of course I want you to be happy. Mother’s reaction, on the other hand...”

  “Pah.” Belle’s eyes sparkled. “Mother is too proper to question the word of a duke. She’ll be forced to make merry by her own rules. Oh!” She glanced over Calvin’s shoulder at Jonathan. “Calvin told me how clever you are with accoutrements to complement each wardrobe. You should meet my friend Angelica Parker. She’s a brilliant jeweler.”

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “I may have... already met her.”

  Epilogue

  Belle curled her fingers about Calvin’s arm. Her brother’s party was underway, and it was nothing less than a spectacular crush.

  The first ball was always open to everyone. Guests had arrived from all corners of England, and plenty more had walked or taken a sleigh ride over from Marlowe Castle or the nearby cottages.

  Calvin was nervous among so many strangers, so Belle had made it her mission to ensure all the familiar faces did not remain strangers to him for long. It was thrilling to introduce Calvin as her betrothed. Who would have thought that one day Belle would overshadow her important brother at his own party?

  But more importantly, she wanted Calvin to feel at ease and at home, so he could come to love Cressmouth just as much as she did. As for him becoming beloved in return, he was well on his way. Vale had dozens of the Fit for a Duke illustrations hung up about the ballroom, and everyone wanted to speak to the visionary who had designed them... and hint that they wouldn’t mind their names being at the top of the list when the first catalogue was ready for orders.

  “Congratulations, you two lovebirds!”

  Belle turned toward the cheery felicitations with a smile. “Calvin, this is my good friend Eve le Duc. She runs the Cressmouth Gazette, a broadsheet delivered monthly to aficionados of our Christmas village all over the country. Eve, this dashing gentleman is the subject of your next front-page column. You won’t want to miss your chance to have an exclusive interview with up-and-coming fashion designer and reclusive genius Calvin McAlistair.”

  “I would love to.” Eve had always had ambition, but her eyes positively shone at the idea of publishing an exclusive interview before the big London broadsheets got wind of it. “My office is in the castle. You can drop by or send a note round, and I’ll come here. If I arrange a few things...” She tilted her head in thought. “Yes! You’ll be in the January issue.”

  “I hope you’ll be mentioning my betrothed as well,” Calvin said gruffly, giving Belle’s hand on his arm a little squeeze. “I am no lone genius, but rather part of an equally matched team. Belle is an integral part. She not only painted all the illustrations in this room, she also innovated clever ways of promoting Fit for a Duke.”

  “I’m not the genius he makes me out to be,” Belle said, but her cheeks flushed with warmth all the same. “Eve, tell me. What is the primary reason a man who is not a dandy would spend comparable attention to his toilette?”

  Eve didn’t even need to think it over.

  “To attract winsome ladies,” she said with a laugh. “Am I right?”

  “Of course you’re right.” Belle grinned back at her. “I’m painting a series of ‘before’ and ‘after’ sketches, in which our dear sir is all alone in unimaginative duds, and then becomes the life of the party once he’s clothed in attire fit for a duke.”

  Eve’s eyes sparkled. “If you can provide a simple woodcut by Thursday, I’ll run it in the January paper. It’s always the most popular because everyone wants to see what they missed over Christmas.”

  Belle nodded. “I’ll see that you have it.”

  “In fact,” Calvin added, “we’ll be releasing a collector’s edition compilation of Belle’s illustrations sometime this spring.” He gazed at her with pride. “Two books in one year!”

  “Two?” Eve repeated in surprise. “What is the first book?”

  “Watercolors of life here in Cressmouth,” Belle admitted, with a glance up at Calvin beneath her lashes. “I’ve been painting such scenes for years, but never had the courage to see them published until now. It’s not certain yet, of course. We haven’t spoken to any publishers.”

  “It’s certain,” Calvin said firmly. “They will fight amongst themselves to be the chosen publisher.”

  “I have no doubt,” Eve agreed, then winced.

  He frowned. “What is it?”

  “Oh, I just saw my husband talking to Belle’s brother and realized I hadn’t paid my respects yet. If you’ll excuse me for a quick moment—”

  “Wait,” Belle stammered. “Did you just call His Grace... ‘Belle’s brother?’”

  “Well, of course.” Eve stared at her quizzically. “That’s who he is. Oh, to be sure, he’s also now the Duke of Nottingvale et cetera, et cetera. But like most everyone in this village, I’ve known the two of you since we were small. Belle, and Belle’s brother. Easy to remember.”

  And with that, Eve was gone.

  Belle stared up at Calvin. “Did you hear that?”

  The corners of his lips quirked as he valiantly tried to hide a smile. “I did. Would you care to explain again who has been living their life in whose shadow? I suppose it’s too late to rename the company ‘Fit for Belle’s brother.’”

  She burst out laughing. “Don’t tempt me. That sort of mischief is what sisters are for.”

  He affected an innocent expression. “And what are wives for, may I inquire?”

  “I’d rather show you,” she answered wickedly. “I hope your dance card is empty. This ballroom is too crowded to spy one’s hand in front of one’s face. No one will notice if we go missing for a set or two.”

  “Or three... or four...” His eyes filled with heat and love.

  They never did return to the ballroom.

  What exactly happened between handsome drifter Jonathan MacLean and local jeweler Angelica Parker during that snowstorm?

  Find out in One Night with a Duke, the next romance in the 12 Dukes of Christmas series!

  Get Yours: Grab One Night with a Duke here!

  Keep turning for a Sneak Peek!

  Thank You For Reading

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  Boxed Set Collections:

  12 Dukes of Christmas (Books 1-4)

  12 Dukes of Christmas (Books 5-8)

  Rogues to Riches (Books 1-3)

  Rogues to Riches (Books 4-6)

  Dukes of War (Books 1-4)

  Dukes of War (Books 5-7)

  Gothic Love Stories (Books 1-4)

  Magic & Mayhem (Books 1-3)

  In order, the 12 Dukes of Christmas:

  Once Upon a Duke (FREE!)

  Kiss of a Duke

  Wish Upon a Duke

  Never Say Duke

  Dukes, Actually

  The Duke’s Bride

  The Duke’s Embrace

  The Duke’s Desire

  Dawn With a Duke

  One Night With a Duke
r />   Ten Days With a Duke

  Forever Your Duke

  The Wild Wynchesters series:

  The Duke Heist

  In order, the Rogues to Riches books are:

  Lord of Chance (FREE!)

  Lord of Pleasure

  Lord of Night

  Lord of Temptation

  Lord of Secrets

  Lord of Vice

  In order, the Dukes of War books are:

  The Viscount’s Tempting Minx (FREE!)

  The Earl’s Defiant Wallflower

  The Captain’s Bluestocking Mistress

  The Major’s Faux Fiancée

  The Brigadier’s Runaway Bride

  The Pirate's Tempting Stowaway

  The Duke's Accidental Wife

  In order, the Gothic Love Stories are:

  Too Wicked to Kiss (FREE!)

  Too Sinful to Deny

  Too Tempting to Resist

  Too Wanton to Wed

  Too Brazen to Bite

  In order, the Magic & Mayhem books are:

  Kissed by Magic

  Must Love Magic

  Smitten by Magic

  One Night with a Duke

  Sparks fly in this definitely-not-falling-in-love workplace romance between a handsome drifter chasing adventure, and a small-town jeweler who would never leave her home behind…

  * * *

  Dashing Scot Jonathan MacLean never returns to the same town twice. The happy-go-lucky philanthropist seeks constant adventure… and is desperate to outrun his past. When a blizzard traps him in a tiny mountaintop village, he meets a woman who tempts him with dreams he'd long since abandoned: Home. Community. Love. But other people’s livelihoods depend on him leaving for good as soon as the snow melts.

  * * *

 

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