No Duke Will Do

by Devon, Eva

  “I agree,” he said, staring at her hand upon his.

  “I knew we’d have at least something in common,” she said triumphantly. “I’m quite fond of roses. Do you like roses?”

  Heath stared at his mother-in-law. “Yes,” he admitted. “I have several growing in my garden, and I’m fairly good at tending them.”

  “Ah, marvelous.” The Dowager Duchess clapped her hands together. “You and I shall have something to talk about because I’ve been having a terrible time with aphids. If you have any suggestions, I’d be happy to take them.”

  He could barely countenance what he was hearing. Aphids. “Of course, Dowager Duchess.”

  “Mama,” she cut in gently but firmly.

  It was a word he wasn’t entirely sure he could say.

  He’d never called anyone Mama in his entire life.

  She seemed to sense his discomfort. “Now, you don’t have to call me Mama, my dear, but it would make things a good deal easier. Dowager Duchess is such a mouthful, you know.”

  “I see,” he said. He did not, but he still wasn’t certain if he was dreaming. He was tempted to ask Robert to hit him in any case, just so he’d know he was awake.

  “Now, I realize this could be terribly rude of me and a bit off-putting, but we must just get on with it, I think, given that you’re already married to Mary. But as I understand it, you have no parents living?”

  He weighed his words and chose the simplest ones. “No, I do not.”

  She cocked her head to the side, gazing at him with remarkably powerful eyes. “I would like to have a relationship which would allow us to become pleasant and welcoming with each other. Do you concur that it would be a good thing?”

  He nodded soundlessly.

  “Wonderful,” she replied, beaming. “This is a place from which we can at least start. You help me with my roses. We shall have conversation. You shall come to dinner, and you shall find a house.” She pursed her lips. “Or you shall take up house with us.”

  The iron tone of her words was irrefutable.

  “I will find a house at once,” he assured.

  “Good.” She picked up her tea and sipped as though this was the most natural conversation in the world. “Preferably within a few streets. Mary and I have never lived apart, and I would prefer to keep that. You know, when the children come, it would be most useful to have me about.”

  When the children come.

  Heath had never even imagined it, but suddenly, a feeling of such lightness filled him that he could hardly breathe.

  “My dear, you aren’t going to faint, are you?” she asked, alarmed. “I have smelling salts, though I don’t usually use them myself. Occasionally, I have a friend who becomes overborne and—”

  “No, no,” he declared quickly. “I am merely adjusting to everything you have said.”

  “Oh, good,” she said. “Then, we shan’t have any trouble. You’ll stay to supper, won’t you? We must converse about how to introduce you to our friends.”

  Introduced to their friends? Heath struggled to reply until he breathed, “They’re going to hate me, you know?”

  She scoffed. “My dear, no. They’ll think you’re a marvelous, unique person. And I’ll tell you, one thing the ton likes is a unique person who doesn’t attempt to be like them. So, as long as you never try to be like us and you be yourself, they’ll admire you just the way you are. There will be no trouble at all. As a matter of fact, you shall be a godsend to have at most dinner parties because, usually, there’s nothing to talk about.”

  It did strike him that she was saying he was going to be rather like a parrot, a bird of beautiful plumes that people could be distracted by, but he supposed there were worse things.

  He swung his gaze from Robert to the Dowager Duchess, the last vestiges of suspicion hard to shake off. “Why are you two welcoming me into your family?”

  Robert clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t lie. I was tempted to find you and beat you to a living pulp, but I love Mary, and Mary loves you. So there’s really little else to say.”

  Robert’s jaw tensed. “Though it would be nice if you could choose a career that wasn’t quite so dangerous to your person, especially when the children come.”

  They kept saying that, the children coming, and he’d never really given thought to having children. But the idea of Mary holding a baby, their baby, in her arms suddenly filled his mind.

  It crashed over him like a wave, filling him with. . . hope.

  And he could think of nothing he wanted more.

  “A change of career,” he repeated.

  “Now, we’re not asking you to change yourself, my dear,” said the Dowager Duchess. “That would be an impossible imposition upon you. I don’t necessarily approve of gambling, for obvious reasons, but you don’t seem to take terrible advantage of people, and you did try to help my husband and to help my son. So I shall not think that much less of you for it, but perhaps choosing something in which you’d be less likely to be stabbed in an alley. . .”

  “Might be more suitable for a husband?” he finished.

  “We’d all sleep a good deal better,” she agreed. “Now, we’re not suggesting you don’t go to that particular part of town. Because as I understand, you do a good deal of very important work there, not in your club, but with the general populace. And we should not like to take that from you. If anything, we should like to contribute to it.”

  Heath had not had a day like this in years, where every few moments, he experienced something entirely new.

  His mother-in-law wished to help him in his endeavors?

  The dowager frowned. “I find my time sometimes filled with the silliest things. Embroidery, for instance. I would much rather assist you in the taking care of the general populace of London.”

  Again, he gaped. It seemed to be something he was doing quite a lot of. “I would possibly consider a change in position,” he said. “But it is all I have ever known.”

  “Well, we all must grow, my dear. Even I have,” the Dowager Duchess said kindly. “I find that I have secured a whole new place in society since my husband has died. Perhaps you are growing too. Would you like to be a part of our family and grow with us?”

  Part of their family.

  “What does Mary want?” he suddenly found himself asking.

  “Why don’t you ask me?” a voice said from the hall.

  He whipped towards it, and it was as if Christmas morning had come. The Christmas morning of novels, not of his childhood, the one in which beautiful things always occurred. Of presents, of golden things, of food and bright music. The world spun into joy as he spotted his wife.

  “You did all this,” he whispered.

  “Not entirely,” she countered, her skirts swishing as she strode into the room. “I’m not responsible for the reaction of my mother and Robert. But yes,” she said. “I want you very much, and I don’t ever want either of us to run away again.”

  The Dowager Duchess stood. “Now, Robert, dear, I think we should allow them to have a moment together because I think they have a few things to sort out before dinner.”

  And with that, Robert and the Dowager Duchess walked towards the door, though Robert did shoot him a warning glare. Heath gave him a nod to acknowledge it.

  Chapter 29

  Heath wanted nothing more than to run to Mary and pull her into his arms.

  Instead, they both lingered, eyeing each other carefully, uncertain where to begin.

  “Forgive me,” he started.

  “Forgive me too,” she cut in.

  “Oh, Mary,” he whispered, his heart nearly breaking. “I really should not have done what I did.”

  “Nor should I have,” she protested.

  “Bloody hell,” he laughed, feeling hope, pure, perfect hope. “Are we going to apologize to each other all this afternoon?”

  She laughed, too.

  “It’s very possible,” she ventured, her eyes beginning to spark with poss
ibility. “How is it that we both were in such pain just hours before, but now, we are here laughing together?” she asked.

  “You,” he said honestly, full of wonder. “Your courage.”

  She winced. “I feared you thought me a complete coward.”

  His insides twisted. “No, Mary. It is I who is the coward. I ran away from you because of my damned fears.”

  “I, too.”

  “And now,” he said. “We are both stepping forward.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  The air fairly crackled between them, the pain of the last days fading away, replaced by something else.

  “I am terribly sorry for taking so long to do something so simple.” She lifted her chin. “To declare my love for you to the world. It was a terrible mistake.”

  “No,” he denied, hating that he had hurt her so deeply. “It wasn’t a mistake. You were simply doing the best you could. And I am doing the best I can now.”

  He hesitated. “I asked something momentous of you, and then I let my own doubts push you away.”

  “You were pushing me away,” she agreed.

  The words caught in his throat, but he knew he couldn’t hold them back any longer. So, he forced them out. “You see, all my life, I’ve never had anyone stay with me, love me. I was abandoned when I was a boy, a child, a baby,” he said tightly. “I’ve always been certain that anyone who loved me would. . . leave me. And then I drove you to it. Forcing you to fulfill my own prophecy because it is all I’ve ever known. I nearly threw away our happiness.”

  “And I also nearly threw our happiness away by not being true to us, by not being true to myself,” she said firmly, pride shimmering on her beautiful face. “And I’ll never do such a thing again.”

  “I’m sure we shall both make mistakes still.”

  “Indeed,” she agreed. “We are human, are we not?”

  “That, we are, wonderful humans,” he said laughing. “But you’re the most wonderful of all.”

  She smiled at him. “I think you’re the most wonderful. So what does that say about us?”

  “That we have hope,” he said. “Will you hope with me, Mary? Will you come and be with me even though I am a terrible blighter, terrified of abandonment and terrified that, at any moment, you might leave me?”

  “I won’t leave you,” she vowed. “But I do want to know more about you. Can you tell me more, slowly, a bit at a time?”

  He swallowed. “I have locked so many doors between myself and my past that I am terrified to open them.”

  “I will be there with you,” she urged. “And if you cannot open those doors, perhaps we can open them together. And if they cause you too much pain, we do not have to open them all at once.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I needed to hear,” he said. “That I can open them a little bit at a time and free myself because, frankly, I’ve not been able to do so alone. I’ve hidden myself away, parts of myself that I thought were too awful or ugly or broken.”

  “We are all awful and ugly at some times,” she said gently. “I have done things I regret.”

  “Nothing like I,” he said, not even daring to think too far back.

  “But that is only by chance of birth,” she said. “I was born in circumstances, which did not put me in the same position as you. You did the very best you could in the situation you had, and I am so proud of you for not succumbing to the worst part of yourself. Look at how you help people, how you helped my brother, my mother, my family, and all of the people that you do. That is the act of someone who wants more and to do better and to be a good man.”

  God, how she saw him? It was like being surrounded in light and warmth.

  “I love you, Mary,” he breathed, feeling completely free once the words left his lips.

  “And I, you, with all my heart.” She beamed at him. “I love you for all the things you have done, for all the struggle you’ve overcome. I love you for being you. Let us choose each other, and let us make this world a better place.”

  At that, he could no longer bear it. He crossed the room and took her into his arms. “Thank God you came to me that night,” he said against her soft locks. “Thank God you were bold.”

  “And thank God,” she said, “that you wanted to help me be even more bold.”

  “Thank you for believing that I deserve a family, your family.”

  “We are very eager to welcome you,” she said, holding him tight.

  “So, I can see,” he laughed. “I am most amazed by your mother.”

  “She is a woman of parts,” Mary said proudly.

  “Just as you are,” he said.

  “Yes, just as I am.”

  “And our children?” he began, barely daring to believe he wasn’t dreaming.

  “Our children should be lucky to be surrounded by so much love,” she said.

  And with that, he lowered his mouth and kissed her, knowing that whatever might come, they would be together and that they would love each other, not despite whatever travails came their way, but because of them.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  The crowd at the table paid no heed to the etiquette of a polite meal. Oh, no, those who attended dinner at the Blackstone townhouse knew there would be much conversation, laughter, and good cheer. . . And one would never speak strictly to one dining companion per course.

  And one always sat next to their spouse.

  The rules of polite society be damned.

  Mary turned to her husband, who sat beside her, transformed.

  The darkness would never leave him. She knew that, but his eyes now shone with new purpose.

  Gently, as he spoke to her mother, he touched Mary’s swelling belly. It did not matter if this was done or not. Her husband did as he liked, and society liked him for it. He’d all but conquered the ton.

  Oh, the gambling club was still alive and well. The funds from it were too valuable. For with them, Heath could fund too many good works. But he was equally careful to look out for men on the edge now. Men who were nearly ruined. And when he could, he stepped in, offering them a path that did not go into darkness. Not everyone took it, but Heath’s place was never the place that drove men into complete darkness.

  Not now.

  Her mother had had a large hand in that.

  And the two were thick as thieves now, arranging for houses for unwed mothers and young women who’d been forced into the bed trade.

  They’d also founded three homes for children who were abandoned, and Mary, her mother, and Heath made certain that the children received care and affection as well as a bed and good food.

  There were no recriminations and threats. Not in the world they envisioned.

  Jamie. . . Wild, untamable, loyal Jamie. . . He’d declared London impossible and the country headed for disaster what with all the new law enforcement officers about. And so. . . he had, as he so often did, slipped away one dark night.

  A letter had arrived some weeks later. . . From Boston! Mary hoped he found happiness there. For he, too, had been touched by darkness, just as her husband had been. It would be wonderful if, like Heath, he could find a touch of joy in this world.

  The road would be long. It would likely never end. . . But she and her husband would walk it together. And together, they would raise a light to shine in the darkness.

  And she could not have hoped for anything more.

  When he turned to her, Heath’s eyes lit with joy.

  Joy for his family.

  And she was so grateful for that bold voice that had whispered in her heart to never let him go. She never would. And nor would he.

  And that made all the difference.

  THE END

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