No Duke Will Do

by Devon, Eva

  He flexed and unflexed his feelings as a dark coat of shame washed over him. He was a liar and a fool, and he was never going to be able to hold happiness in his hands again. But he had made his path. Now he was the one who had to walk it.

  Chapter 26

  Mary walked calmly into the townhouse, her brother’s house now. A house full of so many terrible memories, but some good ones now too. She did not pause until she crossed into the front salon where her mother sat before the fire, embroidering.

  Her brother was drinking a glass of port, and his young, beautiful wife, Harriet, sat, sipping tea.

  They all looked up to her as she came in, and clearly, they sensed something was amiss. There was a subtle shift in the room, a tension building, their faces reflecting concern.

  Mary strode forward and squared her shoulders. “I have something to tell you,” she said. “It is time. It has been far too long that I have kept this from you.”

  There were no words in answer, just a long silence, their concern more palpable.

  So, she announced without ado, “I am married to Richard Heath. I love him. He loves me. That is all there is to it.”

  Another long silence followed before her brother placed his port down and rumbled, “The devil, you are.”

  “The devil, I am,” she replied calmly.

  “That blackguard?” Blackstone growled. “I’m going to have his guts for garters.”

  “You will not,” Mary ground out, giving her brother a warning glare. “Not if you love me. He helped us. He helped you. He even helped our father.”

  A delicate clearing of a throat cut through their tense conversation, and her mother demanded, “Who is Richard Heath?”

  Robert threw up his arms. “Only the man who runs the club where Father lost the vast majority of his funds.”

  Her mother turned to Mary, her eyes wide. “It’s not possible, is it? Mary—”

  “Mother,” Mary interrupted, furious her brother would leave out all that Heath had done for them. “He is a good and a strong man. He has clawed his way up from nothing. He is better than Father ever could have possibly hoped to be. We cannot understand him, not the life he’s had, but he has helped this family in more ways than you could possibly ever believe. In fact, we would be in utter ruin if it wasn’t for Richard Heath. Instead of condemning him right now, we should be thanking him.” She turned on her brother and leveled him with a hard stare. “Especially you.”

  Robert had the good grace to blanch. “Yes. Well, I cannot argue that point. He saved us. It’s true, but he’s not the man for you, Mary.”

  “It is too late,” she disagreed with a slight shrug. “I have chosen him. He has chosen me, and we are married.” Her heart beat wildly as she admitted, “We have been for months.”

  “Months?” her brother echoed.

  “Months,” Mary repeated. “There is no going back. No annulment, no divorce. I don’t wish either of those things either. I wish to be proud of him. You are going to be proud of him too. You like him, Robert.”

  Robert closed his eyes for a long moment then said, “I do like him. He has helped me and my friends more than I can possibly say.” But then his dark eyes opened, and they were full of worry. “Mary, he comes from a rough world. Is that a world you’re ready to inhabit?”

  She lifted her chin. “With every fiber of my being. If you love me, you will support me.”

  Harriet took Robert’s hand and squeezed it. “You know what you need to say,” she said firmly.

  Robert glanced down into his wife’s eyes and nodded.

  “I will support you until he hurts you, Mary,” Robert promised, his voice deep and full of emotion. “But if he does, I will rip him limb from limb.”

  Mary smiled. “That is your right as a brother. I applaud you for it, but he’s not going to do that.”

  “Are you so very certain?” Robert demanded. “You seem terribly hurt at this particular moment.”

  She shook her head, not surprised he was confused. “That’s because I was too afraid to tell you the truth. I was afraid of disappointing you and mother, but I am finished with living in fear. I thought I was done when Father died, but I was mistaken. I just chose a different fearful path. Now I must shed that. Just like you have done, Robert. You have thrown away your fear, and you’re happily married here to Harriet.”

  Harriet lifted her teacup. “Indeed, we are. I applaud you, Mary, for your adventure.”

  Robert arched a playful brow at his wife. “Are you taking her side?”

  “I am aligning myself with my dear sister, as you should.”

  Robert had the decency to look chastened. “Mary, you are a clever woman, and I will not argue with you on this, but you must understand we are concerned.”

  She nodded. “I understand. Fear is a part of all of our lives, but we cannot let it rule us.”

  Mary’s mother lifted her gaze to her very slowly. “I love you, my dear girl. It does frighten me to hear you say this, but you are far wiser than I was. You’ve had the choice of many men, and you have chosen him, and I trust your judgment. So he must be good if you say he is.”

  Mary gaped at her mother, astonished. She’d thought her mother would be a pool of tears and horror at the announcement.

  Instead, her mother was a pillar of strength.

  “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered, her own eyes stinging.

  Her mother smiled calmly, even if she did look a trifle stunned. “You will bring him as soon as possible, and I shall meet him. Then I shall be able to see him as you do. That is all I have to say about it.” Her mother began to embroider, calmly pulling her needle up. “I shall not change my mind on the subject matter until he makes me do so. I doubt he will, my dear, if you love him so well.”

  For so long, she had been afraid of what her mother would say. What her brother would do.

  Nervous laughter burst out of her.

  “Why are you laughing?” Robert asked.

  “Because I was so certain you two would hate me for this, but you do not hate me at all. Do you?”

  Mary’s mother put her sewing down, stood, and crossed to her. She took her hands in a firm grip. “I could never hate you, my love. You are my strength too. You have been there through every dark moment and every pain. I know how you tried to swallow your dreams and desires to shore up this family. Now I shall shore up your dreams and desires, but that is what we do. We will not be the family we were in the past when pain ruled everything. We shall choose to believe that all will be well.”

  Mary stared at her mother, amazed. Awed, this beautiful rock of a woman who had endured so much was now her champion. “I love you, Mama,” she said.

  “I love you too, my darling girl.” Her mother lifted their hands and kissed Mary’s knuckles. “Now, what do we need to do to make this better? For it seems as if you and your husband have quarreled over this.”

  Mary smiled, for she had a plan, indeed.

  Chapter 27

  Heath contemplated the bottle of brandy, tempted to drink straight from it. He drove a hand through his hair. Hours and hours alone, in the room where they had kissed, was not improving his disposition.

  A loud banging on the door caught his attention.

  Very few people knew about the cottage. So, the sound was a shock. Carefully, he went to the door, opened it, and caught sight of his brother standing in the rain.

  It soaked Jamie’s long, dark leather coat.

  Jamie was the last person he wished to see. Still, he couldn’t turn him away. “Come in, then, if you must.”

  “Oh, Oi must,” Jamie drawled. “Oi’ve got news for you.”

  Heath groaned.

  He didn’t wish to hear news about the club right now or anything particularly bad happening in the streets of London. But if something had to be dealt with, he would. Even if he wished to, he couldn’t abandon the world.

  They walked down the hall towards the fire.

  “What is it?” Heath demanded.
“Out with it.”

  Jamie yanked off his coat and threw it before the fire. “Well, your secret’s out.”

  Heath stopped on his way to the brandy. “What the devil do you mean?”

  “This.” Jamie reached into his waistcoat, pulled out a newssheet, and flapped it open. The headline read in remarkable bold letters, “Lady Mary, sister of the Duke of Blackstone, weds City Man, Richard Heath.”

  Heath snatched it out of his brother’s hands and poured over the article, speeding along immediately.

  “I-I. . . H-How the devil did the newssheets get this?” he rasped, horror coursing through him.

  “Oi thought you might say as much,” Jamie said. “And Oi thought you needed to know immediately. Did Oi do the right thing?”

  “Yes, by God, you did,” he growled, crumpling the paper. “It’s going to be a terrible fallout from all of this.”

  “Well,” Jamie nodded. “Oi’m here for you if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” Heath said, knowing this was a fire too wild to put out on his own. Jamie was a strange devil, but it was good to have him by his side. After all, he sure as hell couldn’t do this alone.

  Chapter 28

  Heath faced the townhouse door of the Blackstone family, his insides fairly quaking. . . Something that hadn’t occurred since he’d been thrown out of the Foundling Hospital with his brother to fend alone on the London streets.

  He was not a man easily given to the terror of unknowing. But the idea of facing Blackstone at this moment, it was a bit harrowing. After all, they were supposed to be friends. Still, he squared his shoulders, strode up the steps, and before he could even lift the brass lion knocker, the door opened.

  Blackstone stood in the way, positively radiating with the power of his title.

  “Hello, Your Grace,” Heath said steadily.

  Blackstone’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t insult me. It’s always been Robert to you.”

  Heath gaped. “I beg your pardon?”

  “My name is Robert. You’ve called me Robert for some time now. You’re not a bloody servant to be Your Gracing me. You’re my friend. . . and my brother. So get the bloody hell inside.”

  Heath entered, his head reeling.

  This was not at all what he was expecting. He’d expected that when he saw Blackstone, the man would haul his fist back and slam it into his face.

  “Come on, then,” Blackstone ordered . . . with amusement? “Time for you to meet Mother.”

  Heath could not utter a single word, but he followed, unable to do anything else.

  Together they crossed the polished marble floor and headed into a large salon decorated in the brightest, most feminine colors he’d ever seen. A lady sat by the fire, her dark silver-lined hair coiled about her face.

  She sat with supreme dignity, something like how he imagined the Queen might.

  She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him up and down. “How do you do?” she said.

  “I’m not entirely certain, Your Grace,” he admitted, doing his best to stand still before her inspection. “If you must know.”

  “You must feel a bit off foot,” she observed, folding her beringed hands in her lap.

  “I’ve come to apologize.”

  “Oh?” she asked, gesturing to the chair beside her. “Do sit down.”

  Still stunned, wondering if he was dreaming, he did as bid.

  He was so used to commanding things, it amazed him that this small but elegant woman was so easily able to order him to sit.

  Sit, he did.

  “How do you take your tea?” she asked, turning to a silver tray.

  The question sent his wits wondering. Was someone going to jump him from behind? Were Robert and his mother in on the plot together?

  This all seemed impossibly mad.

  She cocked her head at his stymied silence. “I shall give it to you as I take it. I do like sugar. I hope you like sugar too.”

  She poured out a cup of the beverage into a beautiful, delicate blue porcelain business. She stirred in a shocking amount of sugar and then effortlessly handed it to him.

  As she poured her own cup smoothly, she said, “Now, I do understand that you’re my son.”

  Heath stared at her, somehow managing not to drip his tea. He was gobsmacked that his hand was not shaking.

  “Your son?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” she said as if they were discussing an order of coal. “You’ve married my daughter, which makes you my son, and I suppose, since you’re my son, I should become acquainted with you.” She sipped her tea, her gaze unwavering. “Don’t you think?”

  The room spun around him, and he swallowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “No, no,” she tsked, waving the formality away as if it displeased her. “You mustn’t call me that. You may call me Mama.”

  He nearly keeled over. What the devil was happening? “I beg your pardon, but I must speak to Mary. She must be so furious, and I need to apologize.”

  “What ever for?” the Dowager Duchess just cut in.

  He managed to put his cup and saucer down on the table between them. “The article, I don’t know how it got out.”

  “She wrote it,” Robert announced, folding his arms across his chest.

  Heath stilled.

  “She wrote it,” Robert proclaimed again, more slowly, seemingly for effect. “It was she who announced it in the paper, and we supported her. Now, you’re not thinking of running off, are you?” Robert tsked. “That will make for a devilishly difficult time now that we’ve made it public.”

  Heath lifted his gaze to both of them, and for the first time in his entire life, he felt. . . utterly confused. Neither of them was yelling at him. Neither of them was accusing him of stealing their daughter, of besmirching her or dragging her through the mud.

  “I don’t understand,” Heath said.

  “Yes, I can see that you don’t,” the Dowager Duchess said before she drew herself up. “Let me assist you. We love Mary. You see, I love my daughter very much, and her judgment has always been far better than mine.” The dowager’s delicate brows lifted as if explaining the obvious. “So, if she has decided that you are the man for her, I must trust her.”

  This was not at all the response he had been expecting upon arriving at the house. He thought there would be a pitched battle. “I really don’t understand,” Heath breathed. He’d fought all his life for respect, for acceptance, for every bit of ground he had.

  Where was the war?

  “I can see that, my dear,” said the Dowager Duchess gently. “You’re not accustomed to family, are you?”

  His throat tightened, but he forced himself to reply, “No.”

  Boldly, she reached out and lightly touched his hand. “Don’t overly concern yourself. Our family has had a great deal of trouble in the past, but we’re doing much better now. And since you are a part of our family, we must have a line of conversation, don’t you think?”

  He nodded wordlessly.

  “Good.” The dowager pulled back and adjusted her skirts. “These are my expectations. I will wish to see you and Mary at family dinner several times a week. I would like to know how your business is proceeding. I would like to know how your relationship with my daughter is proceeding, and you must either secure a proper house for her or come and live with us.”

  The line of words passed through his mind like a whirring of leaves in fall. Live with them? Richard Heath, Lord of the Underworld, live in the Duke of Blackstone’s house?

  Surely, such a thing was impossible.

  “You do look a trifle overwhelmed, dear boy,” the Dowager Duchess said.

  “I am,” he admitted. “It’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to.”

  “So I gather,” the Dowager Duchess said, her lips tilting in a gentle smile.

  “Come now,” Robert said. “Heath, you’re a good sort. You helped this family when it was beyond repair, and now you’re a part of it. So you must come and be in it. You can’t liv
e off in the East End all of the time. Or if you do, you need to find a suitable place for you and Mary. It’s that simple if you’re going to be married.” Robert frowned. “Well, you are married. But if you’re going to live together, and married people should, you need a proper house.”

  Heath blinked. “I’m waiting for you to hit me.”

  “Why ever should I do that?” Robert asked, grinning.

  “Because your sister and I are married,” he exclaimed.

  “Did you kidnap her?” Robert asked.

  Heath drew in a long breath. “No.”

  Robert leaned forward. “Did you convince her to do something that she should not?”

  “No,” Heath admitted.

  “Have you persuaded her to marry against her will?”

  Heath could barely believe Robert hadn’t beaten him into a pulp. In fact, the man was all but arguing Heath’s case. “No,” Heath agreed at last.

  “There you have it, then.” Robert crossed to his mother and stood behind her, gently bracing his hands on her shoulders. “Mary married you because she wanted to, and I assume it’s because she loves you. Or so, she has said.”

  Heath’s mind all but rioted. “She told you that I love her? She told you that she loves me?”

  The Dowager Duchess nodded, patting her son’s hand. “Yes, it was a bit for us to take in as well, my dear. Don’t worry if it takes you a moment to catch up.”

  Heath coughed.

  “Oh, dear.” The Dowager Duchess frowned like a worried mother hen. “I do hope you’re not unwell.”

  “No, no,” he assured, amazed he was having this conversation with a former duchess, who was now. . . His mother. Mother. The word itself was utterly foreign. “Just a bit of dust coming up from the country.”

  “Oh, good.” Again, she reached forward, this time patting his hand. I’m glad you have a place in the country. It does wonders for the soul.”