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The Illegitimate Duke

Page 18

by Sophie Barnes


  “I don’t ’ave a ’ome, Miss.” Not any longer at least.

  Her eyes widened with dismay. “Heavens! You’re a sickly street child. That simply will not do.”

  She looked utterly distraught, which Jack found surprising. Judging from her well-kept appearance and clothing, he supposed she had to be middle class at least, perhaps even gentry. It was rare that such people would even bother to speak with his kind.

  “It’s all right,” he told her, hoping to ease her mind. “I’m used to it.”

  Her mouth flattened into a firm line, and before Jack knew what she was about, she’d grabbed hold of his arm and begun leading him along. “You are coming with me so you can have a healthy meal and recover from whatever it is that ails you. I shall even send for a physician.”

  “No. Please don’t.” Jack struggled against her grasp. The last thing he needed was some learned man asking questions about where he’d come from.

  The woman stopped walking and frowned. “You do not care for physicians.” He shook his head. “Very well. I doubt tending to you will be overly complicated, so I shall see to it myself then. Will that do?”

  Jack hesitated for only the second it took him to contemplate the alternative, then nodded and allowed the woman, whoever she was, to lead him off to her home.

  Chapter 16

  Juliette parted ways with Sarah in the foyer of Huntley House and hastened upstairs to her bedchamber. Once inside, she closed the door firmly and leaned back against it on a shuddering breath. Good Lord! Her daring insistence to care for Florian in a manner most people would deem improper had left her feeling hot all over.

  Frustrated, she released an agonized groan, untied her bonnet and flung it onto her bed along with her gloves and reticule. She didn’t have time to daydream about a handsome physician who turned her head. Not when lives were at stake.

  So she took a few fortifying breaths to regain her composure and hurried back downstairs in search of Raphe. After checking his study and finding it empty, she located him in the library where he was keeping company with Coventry. “Good afternoon,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

  The men stood and welcomed her with partial bows. “Not at all, Juliette.” Raphe gestured toward a vacant spot on the sofa. “We were just finishing our discussion.”

  Sitting, Juliette reached for the teapot and refilled Raphe’s and Coventry’s cups before filling her own.

  “I have just come from the hospital,” she said. “Florian was there.” She took a sip of her tea. “He’s in dire need of sleep, so I insisted he get some rest.”

  Coventry sighed. “He works too hard.”

  “He is doing what is necessary under the current conditions we face.” Raphe frowned. “Typhus is not a matter to be taken lightly. Tell me, Juliette, has progress been made to stop it from spreading?”

  “That is actually what I was hoping to speak with you about.” Aware she had their full attention, she told them about the most recent committee meeting and her idea to procure a ship. “Florian was trying to do this but I promised I’d handle it for him.”

  “You did the right thing,” Raphe said. “Are you certain he went home to rest?”

  “He promised he would and I believed him.” It was the best assurance she could give.

  “Then let us do what we can to solve this problem so he can commence evacuation of the sick as soon as possible,” Coventry said.

  “I have these advertisements Florian gave me.” Juliette placed the cutouts on the table so the men could take a look. “Perhaps they can be of some use?”

  “It is a start,” Coventry said. “I also have some merchant contacts. I will seek their counsel immediately.” He stood, as did Raphe.

  “See to the merchants and leave the advertisements with me,” Raphe said. “Shall we reconvene here tonight at ten?”

  Coventry nodded. He bid Juliette farewell, and Raphe escorted him out before closeting himself away in his study with his secretary.

  Anxious for all their efforts to yield results and having nothing to do until they did, Juliette went to retrieve her next reading material from one of the shelves. She would continue her medical studies by delving into Cowper’s Anatomy of Humane Bodies so she could impress Florian a little bit more the next time they met.

  “Having Armswell poisoned was not as efficient as I had hoped,” Bartholomew said when he finished counting the bank notes Mr. Smith had printed for him that morning. “It got Lowell involved.”

  “Yes. That is an unfortunate turn of events, but at least he’s chasing the wrong lead.”

  Bartholomew knew this. It was the maid Claire had taken on six months earlier who’d carried out his command, not the footman Lowell had had arrested. He was just a convenient scapegoat.

  “Nevertheless, I’d like to make sure he doesn’t discover this fact.”

  Mr. Smith nodded. “What do you propose?”

  Leaning back in his chair, Bartholomew reached for a cigar, clipped off the end and lit it. He set it to his lips and inhaled deeply. Puffing out a ribbon of smoke, he considered his options. “Lowell has to go.” He contemplated the best way to make this happen efficiently and discreetly. An idea emerged, stretching his mouth into a wide smile. “Find out who the best shot is among the peerage and make sure the man knows that Lowell is tupping his wife.”

  Chapter 17

  Juliette knew the moment Florian arrived at the Stokes Ball because of the pompous announcement made by the majordomo. She hadn’t seen him in almost a week, during which his life had changed forever. He was officially a duke now, and as such it took him an eternity to reach her, Gabriella and Raphe, even though they weren’t standing far from the entrance.

  “Your Grace,” Raphe said by way of greeting.

  Florian visibly flinched. “Please refrain from formalities, Huntley. If my friends stop addressing me in the manner to which I have grown accustomed, I truly believe I might hang myself.”

  Raphe nodded. “Understood. It goes without saying that my family and I would like to convey our condolences on the loss of your uncle.”

  “Thank you.” Heartache marred Florian’s features before he managed to rein in the emotion and bury it deep beneath his unflappable façade. “Thank you for helping me procure a ship, Huntley. Because of you, your sister and Coventry, we were able to quarantine everyone showing symptoms of typhus.”

  “I’m glad it suits your needs,” Raphe said.

  Florian nodded. “We had it readied three days ago and the patients brought onboard. They raised anchor this afternoon and ought to have reached the Channel by now.”

  “How expedient.” It was all Juliette could think to say, considering the speed with which the solution had been implemented now that he also had funeral arrangements to make. In fact, it surprised her he was here instead of observing the customary three months of mourning the loss of an uncle usually required. But knowing he thought himself a physician first and keeping in mind his dedication to his profession, he must have decided he had no time for such consideration at present.

  Alerted by her comment, he gave her his full attention. “I always strive to make the most of my time.” The edge of his mouth rose. “With that in mind, I do believe I owe you a waltz, my lady. Unless someone else has already claimed it.”

  A flash of heat crept over Juliette’s face, so she deliberately broke eye contact with the pretense of searching her reticule for her dance card. “We have only recently arrived so the waltz is still available.” Retrieving the card, she held it toward him.

  He took it from her, studied it closely and handed it back, the tips of his fingers brushing hers so swiftly and yet so completely it sent a fleet of shivers sailing down her spine.

  “Did your sister mention her idea to create a steady revenue for St. Agatha’s?” Florian asked Raphe, the calmness of his voice conveying not a single iota of what Juliette had just felt in response to his touch.

  She envied him the ability to remain so c
ollected. Judging from his demeanor right now, it looked as though her effect on him was on par with how a single star might affect the cosmos—without particular notice.

  So she pulled back her shoulders and decided to exude a similar degree of placidity. “I wanted to wait until I came up with a feasible solution.”

  “Maybe you could offer an exclusive service for the wealthy and use the income to fund the hospital,” Gabriella said. “Like a luxurious spa-like retreat here in London, so people don’t have to go all the way to Bath.”

  “A spa would require a mineral spring, but I think I see where you’re going with this,” Florian said. “The business would offer physical relaxation techniques and the client would leave with a sense of rejuvenation.”

  “It would require a good location,” Juliette said, “and that will not come cheap.”

  “No, but I can afford to make such an investment now and I think it might be worth it.” Florian’s eyes shone with excitement. “The Swedes have recently developed a system of basic hand strokes intended to soothe the muscles and the Chinese have been applying finger pressure to relieve aching body parts for centuries. It’s not entirely dissimilar from what you . . . um”—he caught Juliette’s gaze—“suggested I try on that patient of mine with the pain in his shoulders . . .” He coughed, broke eye contact while Juliette’s cheeks ignited, and quickly said, “We could also offer private saunas for the gentlemen and facial scrubs for the ladies.”

  “Why can’t the ladies have saunas as well?” Gabriella asked.

  Florian blinked. “Well, I suppose they can. The possibilities are endless really.”

  “There could even be a shop offering scented oils and soaps,” Juliette suggested.

  “Certainly,” Florian said. “Ah! I believe that is our set starting.” He offered Juliette his arm. “Shall we?”

  Excusing herself to Raphe and Gabriella, Juliette allowed Florian to escort her out onto the dance floor where they took up positions across from each other. His eyes met hers, the blueness of his gaze reminiscent of a cloudless sky on a hot summer’s day.

  The music started and he pulled her into his arms. Her hand found his on a rush of wild embers, reminding her of the intimacy of his touch. It stole her breath, his fingers sliding gently across her back in ways that could not be accidental or innocent. And it occurred to her then that he craved the same closeness as she, even as he fought to prevent it.

  “You are dancing a great deal these days, for a man who insists on disliking the activity,” she managed to say after growing accustomed to the feeling of a thousand feathers tickling her insides. Something had to be said if she was to maintain her sanity.

  “Only with you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Of course she had and of course the notion delighted her to no end, even though it would lead them nowhere. “Others might as well. If you are not careful, my brother might expect you to offer for my hand.”

  “You forget that I am a duke as well now. Your brother cannot insist on such a thing unless I were to compromise you. In which case I would naturally do the honorable thing.”

  He spun her around in a wide circle and Juliette tried not to let his words hurt her. But it wasn’t easy when he’d all but told her he’d only ever consider marrying her if circumstance forced him to do so. She would become his obligation, which was hardly something to aspire toward. So she raised her gaze to his and said, “You need not worry about such a thing occurring, Florian, for I shall do my utmost to prevent it.”

  Had she not spent as much time in his company as she had in recent weeks, she would most likely have missed his response to that statement. It was subtle, but it was there, the slightest tic at the edge of his mouth accompanied by the momentary tightening of his fingers against her hand.

  Well good! It was high time the man felt a bit of the frustration shadowing her these days. She would have welcomed a courtship from him before they started working together. Now, after getting to know him better, nothing in the world would thrill her more than the prospect of one day marrying this man. He was clever and honorable. He knew what his priorities were and which of his duties came first. He would not permit any person to perish if he stood a chance of saving their lives. But beyond that, he was a serious man, alienated by his profession and confined to what Juliette suspected must be a lonely existence with only his work as his constant companion.

  She wondered if he even realized what he was missing. It wasn’t so different from what she’d been missing herself for most of her life. She’d had her siblings just as Florian had his family and colleagues, but she’d never felt as though she belonged with someone the way she knew she belonged with him or as though her heart might break if he chose to marry someone else. It was as if he’d reached inside her chest and jolted her heart into motion. And if he feared the increased closeness between them as much as he’d suggested, then it could only mean that he felt precisely the same. Which made his standoffishness all the more curious.

  “Would you like a refreshment?”

  The dance had apparently ended without her noticing, she’d been so caught up in her ponderings. “No.” She glanced around at the thronging crowd. “I would rather get some fresh air.”

  “Then allow me to escort you.” He led her toward a set of doors that opened onto a terrace. As they went, whispered words and stares followed, alerting Juliette to Florian’s increased eligibility. He was a duke now, the only one available for marriage, and there was no shortage of women making him the subject of their assessment.

  What a fine-looking man.

  Have you ever seen such remarkable hair?

  There is nothing more intriguing than a surgeon turned duke.

  He has the handsomest bearing to grace the English isles in decades.

  Juliette stifled the laughter that threatened to bubble up into a sputtering outburst. Handsome bearing? Such imaginative use of adjectives could only be attributed to his recent rise in aristocratic power.

  Glancing up at the man in question as he guided her away from the whispered appraisals, she caught a troubled look in the corner of his eyes. “What is it?” she asked while a breeze licked a cool path around her shoulders.

  “Hmm?” He did not stop his progress as she had expected but kept on walking, taking her past the people who hovered in clusters and onward toward a fountain in the center of the garden.

  “You looked worried just now.” Instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder to see how many people had noticed he was taking her off to a private location. For a man who’d just told her he had no intention of compromising her reputation, he certainly had a funny way of showing it.

  “It is nothing.”

  She blew out a breath and decided she wouldn’t accept that answer. “I disagree. Not when you are trying to flee the ballroom as fast as possible.”

  “You are the one who requested fresh air.”

  “Which could easily be found on the terrace. Instead, you are pulling me along at a pace that is difficult for me to keep up with in my current state of dress. I cannot simply hike up my evening gown and lengthen my stride, Florian.”

  He slowed down immediately. “I am sorry, Juliette, I just had to get away from those people and all their jabbering.”

  “You heard that, did you?”

  He cut her a look as if to say he’d have had to be deaf not to. “This is precisely what I wanted to avoid. Being the center of attention has never agreed with me, but now it has become an unavoidable hazard of my title.”

  Juliette sympathized, and yet, “It could be worse, you know. They could be sneering at you behind your back on account of your questionable background.”

  He released her so abruptly she almost fell into the nearby rosebushes. “What do you mean?” Shadows played across his features, evoking an image reminiscent of Pan or some other mysterious forest creature lurching about in the darkness.

  His voice was hushed, the sharpness dulled by the gurgling water of
the nearby fountain. And yet, the alertness with which he questioned her was telling. It suggested misunderstanding on his part, as if he suspected her of asking something she wasn’t, though what that might be she honestly had no idea.

  “When my siblings and I arrived in Mayfair, carving out a place for ourselves and gaining respect took time.” This clarification seemed to calm Florian. His shoulders sagged beneath the weight of his black evening jacket. “There are still those who judge us harshly, who consider us social upstarts and imposters. It took time to learn to ignore them. Thankfully, we have more friends than foes these days, for which we are all incredibly grateful. Though none of us have ever been accompanied by as many compliments as you were just now.”

  “You must think me ungrateful.”

  He’d released her arm, leaving her feeling bereft, and was now strolling ahead of her at a casual gait. In spite of not wanting to risk getting compromised and married off to a man who did not want her, Juliette followed him as easily as Psyche would have followed her Cupid.

  “Not at all.” The torchlight dimmed as they approached the far corners of the garden. Deliberately, Juliette kept close to a group of trees in the hope of concealing herself if anyone happened to look their way and wonder about the two silhouettes straying from the rest of the party. “It is a sudden change for you, just as it was for me, and it will take time for you to adjust. That is all.”

  “Unfortunately there is so much more to it than that.” He stopped and turned toward her with an abruptness that put them but an inch apart. And somehow, as with their previous encounter in a similar garden, his hand held her upper arm as if ready to either push her away or pull her toward him.

  Juliette held her breath and waited while wishing against her better judgment that he would choose to do the latter.

  It was dark. None of the torches lighting the garden reached the corner in which they stood; Juliette with her back against a tree and he with his hand wrapped gently around her arm. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, only that it had. And he had no desire to release his hold on her but rather to savor the blessed intimacy of it.

 

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