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The Devil Duke Takes a Bride

Page 14

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Yet part of her, a tiny part, still had doubt, for how could a man who had lived his entire life one way, hope to change in just a few weeks? And all because of her? She was nothing special, she knew that. Even Benedict had pointed it out early on in their relationship, but perhaps she should just allow herself to fall. For the only person she could imagine that she wanted to catch her was the Duke of Banbury.

  She knocked. A very stunned butler opened the door and then closed it in her face. Truly, he needed to hire a new staff immediately.

  She knocked again. He opened it a crack. “I’m here to see my fiancé. He’s to be escorting me to the Kringle Ball.”

  “Er...” The butler looked behind him, and suddenly Katherine heard shouting. She pushed past the butler with all the strength she could muster and ran directly into her worst nightmare.

  Maria, the old housekeeper wearing a gown fit for a courtesan with her chest nearly exposed, she was crying and shouting still. And then she turned to Katherine, venom in her eyes.

  Benedict also turned. “This isn’t what you think, she—”

  “—He loves to play games, my lady. This is just one of the many ones we’ve dreamt up together. It makes our time together so much better when there is the fear of getting caught. We fight,” she laughed, “and then we make love, right after his innocent little girl walks through the door. I couldn’t write a better story myself.” She tripped on the hem of her gown and laughed again.

  “Katherine…” Benedict pinched his nose. “She’s drunk and angry, and somehow snuck through the servants’ entrance. This is no game. She is ill, sick actually, and if she steps foot in my house one more time…” Benedict reached for Maria and grabbed her arm, clenching it within his hand tightly. “I will have her arrested. Now leave before I call Bow Street.”

  She jerked her arm away, tears streaming down her face. “Why would you throw away something so good?”

  “We are finished!” he yelled. “You mean nothing to me. What we did, meant nothing.”

  “It was everything.”

  “Perhaps for you. For me it was nothing but a heartless toss with an easy woman who desired money in exchange for services.”

  Maria threw her head back and laughed, her dark hair spilling in waves across her scandalous dress. She walked past Katherine and glared. “You’ll never be able to give him what I did. He’ll grow tired of you and come back. Just wait and see.”

  With that she left.

  Katherine tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t fill her lungs fast enough. Short gasps came out until finally she fell to her knees on the ground, still gasping for air.

  “Katherine!” Benedict ran to her side, scooped her into his arms, and pushed open the doors to the first room on the right, one of the salons. “Katherine?”

  ****

  Benedict had never felt so angry and afraid in his entire life. Angry at Maria, angry at himself, angry at his past, and afraid that Katherine was now lost forever. How could she trust him? How could she know that the other women meant nothing? That Maria had literally attacked him in his own home? Beating his chest until Marsail had to pull her from his body?

  “Katherine?” He touched her face, then her chest. “Breathe, just breathe, in and out, slowly now. There you go, slowly.”

  Finally, after a few minutes her breathing slowed.

  And then the tears came.

  He wanted to die.

  In fact, he kept eyeing the pistol hanging over the fireplace.

  “Please, please don’t cry.” He wiped her tears, but he was too slow in catching all of them. Benedict rocked her in his arms. She was trembling.

  “Nothing happened. She is mad, Katherine. Do you understand? I would never do that to you, ever. You must believe me.”

  She didn’t say a word, merely cried a little more, then pulled herself from his lap and set her skirts to rights. “I’m ready for the ball now.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “I am. My parents will expect me.”

  He moved to grab her arm, but she pulled back. Trust was a thing of the past, if it had ever been there in the first place. And in return, he noticed the sparkle die in her eyes, and he knew he was the cause as well as the cure. She just needed time.

  He patted his coat pocket to be sure he had remembered to take the note Agatha had left him. It was there. But she was not. He needed her now, needed her wisdom and guidance on how to proceed. But all he could think that she might say would be to fight. So fight he would. Wordlessly they left the house. Neither of them spoke the entire way to the Kringle Ball.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The Note

  Katherine had already decided to forgive Benedict. Though he did have some explaining to do, she realized one very important thing.

  She didn’t want to live her life in fear.

  She loved him so much that she wasn’t sure she could face life without him. Katherine just wanted his love in return, as well as his loyalty. The only reason she doubted him was because of what she saw with her eyes, not what she felt with her heart.

  Fear had ruled her decisions with him, and she was much happier when she didn’t feed it. When she allowed her trust in Benedict and in herself to make sound decisions, to lead her to happiness, fear dissipated.

  So as Benedict helped her out of the carriage, she looked up at the starry sky and then back at the man she would soon call husband. She offered him something, something she was waiting to give to him at midnight tonight.

  “Wait.” She stopped him.

  He looked miserable, as if someone had just announced the world was going to end.

  “I have a gift for you.”

  “I-I don’t need a gift,” he stuttered. “Just you. I hope you understand my love for you.”

  Katherine stomped on his foot. Truly the nerve of the man, beating her to the punch!

  “What was that for?” He cursed and began hopping.

  “I was going to say that, you cad!”

  “What?” He cursed again. “Apparently pain is blocking my ability to think, you were going to say what?”

  “That I love you!” She threw her hands up in the air. She had wanted to say it first, to offer it to him as a gift so he knew she trusted him, wanted to belong to him. “Men!” she screamed at nobody in general, though a few women walking up the stairs began to clap.

  “I’m sorry?” he offered, then backed up, no doubt afraid she would somehow wound him again.

  “Well…” She crossed her arms. “I imagine it’s fine. The moment’s gone now.”

  “Can’t you say it, at least for my benefit? You have nearly broken my foot.”

  “If I was aiming to break it, I would have.”

  “Oh, how true that is,” Benedict muttered.

  “You’ll just have to make it up to me.” Katherine managed a small smile and hooked her arm within his. “Let’s go indoors before your toes freeze off as well.”

  He smiled and patted her arm. “I’m sorry about tonight, about Maria and…”

  Katherine stopped walking. “Let us not speak of it again, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” His eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t speak. Instead he escorted her into the Kringle Ball with a confused look etched across his ducal face. Benedict’s eyes narrowed, but he did not say a word.

  ****

  Benedict hadn’t spoken of the incident the entire night, but still noted the hurt he saw in Katherine’s eyes. Saints alive! He wanted her trust, needed it. As well as guidance, but he had none. Nobody.

  He sighed. Now was as good a time as any to read the note. It had been burning a hole in his pocket since it had been discovered. And now, as he watched Katherine weave through the crowds at the ball, the woman he had unintentionally hurt, he needed his aunt’s comfort more than ever. So he walked to the corner and unfolded the letter.

  Benedict, when I discovered my sickness would take me. I was bitter. I was angry. But mostly, you must understand my fear.


  My two boys, the ones I helped raise, albeit with a strict hand, were going to be without me.

  You, specifically Benedict, without any sort of living relative.

  And I thought to myself, how can I leave him behind? How can I allow my body to deteriorate and wither away when my nephew needs so much guidance?

  I have stood by and watched you make mistakes.

  I have kept my mouth closed when you paraded with your mistresses.

  We all have wild oats, by Jove. You’d have an apoplexy if you knew of mine.

  It may have appeared that I did not approve, and perhaps according to society I didn’t, but I loved you. I loved you desperately, and I have only wanted what is best for you.

  I would move heaven and earth for you, my boy. For Baldwyn, too.

  You see…

  When your mother died, I gave her a promise. I told her you would be better than the men before you in your family, but that it would take a different strategy of sorts.

  Rather than smother you, I allowed you your mistakes. Rather than coddle you, I pretended to be upset and turned my nose at your escapades. Your fear of me did not hinder my love, if anything it brought me joy, for I knew deep down that you cared, even when you claimed you didn’t.

  As I write this letter, I have only a few months to go on living in this world before I irritate God in His.

  And I wondered, what could I possibly give Benedict? What could I leave him?

  Her.

  I wanted you to have her.

  She reminds me of myself. She is strong, she is opinionated, she is clumsy. After all, she did try to kill you on several occasions, not a small feat, might I add.

  If I leave you her, if you marry, then you will not be left alone in this world, but you will have a true family of your own. You see, my boy, we are more alike than you know. Our personalities push the limits and rejoice in the scandal and fear we bring to others. It is control, it is power, but it is not living. It is not happiness.

  I want that for you.

  I want you to have that love. I want you to marry her and protect her, to cherish her, to love her with a fierceness unmatched by anyone else.

  This is my dying wish, my gift to you, the legacy I leave behind.

  As well as half my estate… I only ask that you fill those many summer homes with the laughter of children, though I imagine you’ve already been working on that part behind my back, you rogue.

  Remember, I love you.

  Agatha

  That little minx! Benedict wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She knew. The woman knew the entire time. She truly had picked Katherine out for him. She’d just tricked him as he suspected. But it was a glorious trick, one for the history books no doubt, for he would fall for it all over again.

  He glanced up to see Katherine approaching.

  After everything they’d been through, he knew he was going to have to create one more scandal.

  One more show of devotion.

  So he didn’t walk.

  He didn’t even smile.

  With fierce determination, he tucked the note into his jacket pocket and ran, as fast as his legs would take him, toward her.

  His family.

  Gasps were heard throughout the ballroom. The music came to a halt, but he couldn’t care less.

  All he saw was her.

  All he wanted was her.

  All he needed in this world was her.

  Unshed tears blurred his vision. His hands reached out to grasp Katherine, but touching her was not enough. With little effort, he lifted her into the air and twirled her around before crushing his lips to hers, in such a kiss that he was sure even Agatha saw the scandal from heaven.

  “I love you,” he said and kissed her again.

  “I love you,” she replied as tears streamed down her cheeks. Katherine wrapped her arms around him, opened her mouth to him, and kissed him so passionately he wanted to weep. As well as boast, if he was being quite honest. He remembered the Duke of Tempest causing a similar scandal a few years back.

  “So,” she pulled back, “the Devil Duke creates yet another scandal.”

  “Oh, be sure there will be many more to come.” He set her to her feet.

  “Really?” She lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yes, for he also plans to marry. To stay true to his wife, if she’ll have him. To have loads of children, naming the first Agatha of course, because naturally she wouldn’t allow us to have a boy first.”

  “Naturally.” Katherine giggled.

  “My heart... it’s yours.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s yours forever. If you’ll have it.”

  “Well, you did finally learn how to smile…”

  He nodded.

  “And, you have ruined me on numerous occasions.”

  His grin widened.

  “Not to mention,” she added, “the fact that I’m irrevocably in love with you as well.”

  And that was when the Devil Duke burst out laughing, causing an even greater scandal to sweep the ton, for it was the first time anyone ever heard him laugh.

  “Christmas miracle?” people whispered amongst themselves.

  But Benedict didn’t care. He had his love, his life, his family, and he had his aunt to thank for that. God bless her. She had given him the best gift of all.

  The gift of family.

  Epilogue

  Three years later.

  “Agatha!” Benedict screamed. They were going to be late for the Kringle Ball, and his daughter of two was currently running through the house naked.

  Like father, like daughter he supposed.

  His valet still hadn’t quit, but he knew one day he would lose his mind. If anything, Benedict’s own nakedness had become worse what with having a wife around all the time.

  Clothes? Who needed clothes?

  His valet did not agree.

  Nor did his butler, but he gave them enough bonuses every Christmas not to care, so he figured he was safe.

  “Agatha,” he said quietly when she approached him giggling. “You need to go upstairs with Nanna. Mother and I are leaving for the night. Can you do that for us?”

  She shook her head no.

  Of course.

  He swore up and down that Agatha, while in heaven, chatted up God and told him how amusing it would be to gift them with a child who took exactly after both their parents, to a fault.

  And God, being in good humor and loving Agatha as he should, granted her this one boon.

  Little Agatha smiled up at him and giggled again, his heart thumped with joy. “You must get some clothes on before Mother sees you.”

  “Before I see what exactly?” Katherine floated down the stairs looking every inch the duchess, and every inch the seductress. Heavens how he loved her. It seemed the longer they were married the more their love grew, until most days he felt so stupidly happy that he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried.

  “Happy anniversary, love.” Katherine kissed him on the cheek then looked down. “Agatha, sweetheart, why aren’t you wearing clothes?”

  “Papa!” Agatha squealed. “No clothes too!”

  Katherine glared at Benedict. He winked shamelessly and then she blushed from the roots of her hair down her glorious neck. He leaned forward to take a peek down her dress.

  She pushed him away. “Those are the very things you should not be doing in front of your daughter. She already copies everything else.”

  They both looked down at their grinning little girl and laughed.

  Nanna came rushing down the stairs and scooped up Agatha, scolding her for running away during bath time.

  “She takes after you,” Katherine said.

  “Does not.”

  “Does too! She runs around naked and ignores anyone’s pleas to do otherwise!”

  “She also tried to kill me three times. So who exactly does she take after in that regard?”

  “It was four,” Katherine argued. “And she didn’t try to kill
you. They were all accidents. It wasn’t her fault you fell into the pond while taking her for a walk, or out of the tree when getting her an apple. You just need to be more careful.”

  Benedict grimaced, careful and his daughter were not anywhere near the same thing. The more he coddled her, the more it seemed she wanted to do something daring.

  Unfortunately, it reminded him of himself, which frightened him more than words could express.

  Luckily, he had Katherine.

  And with her, he could do anything.

  “Why are you smiling?” Katherine put her hands on her hips, tilting her head.

  “Why shouldn’t I be smiling?” His grin grew.

  “You look like you’re about to do something…”

  He grabbed her hands and ran into the study, shoving the door closed behind them and with little effort lifted her skirts.

  “Benedict!” she scolded. “What are you doing! We’re going to be late!”

  “Then we’ll be late. I am a duke after all.”

  His argument to get away with anything.

  She rolled her eyes and squirmed happily beneath his touch. “But it’s our anniversary and everyone is going to want to see us. Oh!” She leaned in and kissed him. “Maybe just this once.

  “That’s my girl.” He kissed her firmly across the mouth.

  And an hour later, when they arrived at the ball hand in hand, Benedict’s past reputation was merely a shadow on everyone’s lips. Had he really been all that bad? People wanted to know. For what they saw now was a man completely changed from the one he was before.

  And it was all because his aunt loved him enough to trick him. God rest her soul.

  About the Author

  Rachel Van Dyken is the USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

  She keeps her home in Idaho with her husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandyken.com.

 

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