The Duke of Deception

by Darcy Burke

  “Would you care to take a promenade around the ballroom?” he asked. It would give his aunt more time to gather information and him the opportunity to plant the seed for one of his tests. All that aside, he wasn’t ready to relinquish Miss Knox’s company.

  She glanced up at him, her gaze skeptical. “Yes?” The word definitely came out as a question.

  “You sound unsure.”

  “I’m unsure why you want to. As we discussed, our debt has been settled.”

  He escorted her to the outer edge of the ballroom, where the crush was a bit less. It was, however, still crowded and not terribly suited to a promenade. They’d take a short circuit near the corner before returning to Lady Satterfield.

  “I did not agree that our debt was settled.” He enjoyed flirting with her. He’d never enjoyed flirting with anyone. “If you recall, I suggested another dance. Talk of debt aside, I also said I enjoyed your company—even when you behave in an odd manner.”

  “Well, you would be the first,” she muttered. “My apologies,” she said more loudly, her spine stiffening. “Am I to be your next matrimonial candidate?”

  It was his turn to stumble, but primarily because a young buck dashed in front of them. Still, her words jolted him—she was so refreshing.

  “Ah, it’s not really like that,” he said weakly. Except it was precisely like that.

  She turned her head to look at him, her gaze slightly narrowed. “Truly?”

  Refreshing and maybe a little maddening. “Perhaps it is a bit like that. But isn’t that why we’re here? The infernal Marriage Mart?”

  She didn’t answer immediately as he steered her toward the less crowded corner. “Yes, I suppose. But maybe there’s more to life than finding a spouse. Have you considered that maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it? It’s all so affected. You can never really be sure about someone, can you?”

  Damn, she spoke directly to his fears, to the very reason he took such pains in his search. “No, you can’t. But I have to try.”

  She came to a stop and turned partway toward him, her eyes seeking. “You really are looking for a wife.” She sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Yes.”

  She pivoted back, signaling that she was ready to proceed. “Then I wish you luck.”

  It was time to veer to the right and return to Lady Satterfield. Now was the perfect opportunity to launch one of his tests. “Would it also surprise you to know that I’ve come close to asking someone twice?” If he counted Miss Forth-Hodges, and he supposed he should. She’d met all his requirements, and he had every reason to believe she would’ve handled the last task with aplomb.

  “Indeed? In fact, that would surprise me.” Her grip on his arm tightened, and she lowered her voice. “You shouldn’t share such things. Not unless you want them repeated.” She slowed to a stop again and peered up at him. “Is that what you’re doing? You want people to know that you are looking for a wife, despite your failure to propose, and that you’ve nearly done so?” She glanced around and kept her voice to barely above a whisper. “Why tell me? I am not a gossip.” Her eyes widened. “Oh dear, has my reputation expanded to that of a gossip in addition to ninnyhammer?”

  He couldn’t tell if she found that distasteful or…pleasing. “Are you either of those? I hadn’t thought you were the latter, but perhaps I was mistaken.” He was mostly teasing, although he had to admit that her skepticism coupled with her forthrightness made her a strange young woman in this sea of husband hunters. Strange, but somehow exciting.

  She exhaled and turned, indicating they should move on. “Not particularly. Actually, I’m definitely not a gossip, so if you’re hoping I’ll spread the information you just imparted, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

  Just the opposite. He was thrilled. He oughtn’t take her word for it, and time would prove her honesty. For now, though, he was content to continue with her. More than content. He was already thinking ahead to when he might see her next.

  “We are nearly to Lady Satterfield. I find I want to walk a bit more slowly. Tell me, Miss Knox, what do you enjoy?” He watched her brow furrow slightly, then smooth.

  “I like to read. And take walks.”

  “What do you read?”

  “I’m fond of poetry, actually.”

  “Indeed?” He quoted one of George’s favorites:

  “Therefore am I still

  A lover of the meadows and the woods,

  And mountains; and of all that we behold

  From this green earth; of all the mighty world

  Of eye, and ear,—both what they half create,

  And what perceive; well pleased to recognize

  In nature and the language of the sense,

  The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,

  The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul

  Of all my moral being.”

  Her answering smile was beatific, sparking a flash of heat in his gut. “Wordsworth. Have you been to Tintern Abbey? I’ve wanted to go forever—well, ever since I first read that poem years ago.”

  “I have been. It’s a beautiful, mystical place.” He’d taken George after removing him from the hospital. It had been a cleansing, healing time for them both. Or so he thought. It was so often difficult to ascertain what George was thinking or feeling.

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes unbelievably vivid and beguiling. “That’s exactly how I imagine it. I expect it would be most affecting.”

  It had been for him, and that she hoped for the same filled him with anticipation. Maybe, if things progressed between them, he’d take her there someday.

  Unfortunately, they’d arrived at their destination.

  Lady Satterfield greeted them with a wide, approving smile. “We were just speaking with your lovely aunt. I’m afraid Mrs. Greville and I have not been closely acquainted, but I daresay we’ll need to rectify that. I’m quite intrigued by her philanthropic work.” She glanced toward her stepdaughter-in-law. “The Duchess and I work with the Westminster Foundling Home among other orphanages in London.”

  “Miss Knox has also been involved since joining Lady Satterfield this Season,” the Duchess said. “She’s developed quite a fondness for visiting the children.”

  Ned caught the sparkle of appreciation in his aunt’s eye as she looked at Miss Knox. She was almost too good to be true. Which meant there had to be something wrong with her.

  Stop that nonsense.

  The admonition in his head came in the form of his aunt’s voice, because it was certainly something she would say to him in response to his thoughts.

  “I was just telling them of your charitable endeavors,” Aunt Susannah said, moving her attention from Miss Knox to him.

  “I had no idea you were so involved with Bethlehem Hospital,” Lady Satterfield said, her tone ringing with enthusiasm and admiration. “How did that come about?”

  Ned exchanged a brief glance with his aunt. He would never reveal the truth, of course, but he’d answered this question enough times that he had a prepared response. “My father became a patron after one of his retainers was admitted. The conditions were deplorable, and he sought to improve them. I’ve carried on his commitment. I’m pleased to report that the hospital has undergone many changes in recent years, including relocation to a brand-new building, and is in fact still evolving. However, there is still much to be done.”

  Sometimes Ned felt as though it was a pointless endeavor because the change was so slow, but when he thought back to George’s time there, he reminded himself that his efforts weren’t for naught.

  “What a wonderful legacy,” the Duchess said softly. “I wonder if we might help in some way.”

  This was too perfect. Taking his potential bride to Bethlehem was the final test. If she possessed the courage and grace to go in the first place and didn’t react poorly to the patients, he’d marry her in a trice. Only one woman had made it that far, and she’d fainted ten minutes into the visit.


  “Yes, what could we do?” Miss Knox finally removed her hand from his arm, and the spot was suddenly ice cold, as if he’d been warm and cozy by the fire and had been rudely expelled into a frigid winter night.

  “I visit often when I’m in Town,” Ned said. “I read to the patients and bring them things such as shoes and blankets.”

  Miss Knox smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming in the light of a thousand candles. “Do they like Wordsworth?”

  He couldn’t keep an answering smile from his lips, even if he wanted to. “They do.”

  “I should like to organize a meeting to collect things the patients might need,” Lady Satterfield said. “Can you provide a list, my lord?”

  Ned nodded. “Certainly. I will send one over tomorrow. This is quite generous and gracious of you.”

  “You’ll find Lady Satterfield to be the most kindhearted of women,” the duchess said.

  “Will you excuse me?” Miss Knox interrupted. “I see someone I must speak with.” She gave Ned a brief curtsey before walking quickly toward the wall where a young woman stood by herself, her cheeks rosy and her shoulders drooping.

  “Aquilla is the kindhearted one,” Lady Satterfield murmured as she watched her ward touch the young woman’s arm. The relief and joy on the woman’s face told the story—Miss Knox had seen a person in need and had rushed to their aid.

  Yes, she was damned near perfect.

  The pessimist nestled inside him—the boy whose parents had forgotten he was still their son, the man whose brother had been tortured, and the earl who feared he wouldn’t find a countess worthy of the burden he bore—cautioned him to go slow. Nobody was perfect or even close to.

  Ned and his aunt bade good evening to the duchess and countess before taking their leave. He cast a final look in Miss Knox’s direction as he walked away with his aunt.

  She gripped his forearm as they skirted the ballroom. “You like her. I can see that nothing I tell you about her will matter at this point.” She chuckled.

  “That’s not true.” Usually. But Miss Knox was proving to be quite different from the rest. “You know I count on you. What did you learn?”

  “This is her fifth Season and really ought not have happened. Her parents refused to fund any more. Lady Satterfield offered to sponsor her.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “I am not certain of the specifics. I suspect it may be that only they know the truth.”

  Perhaps Miss Knox possessed secrets. Like he did. Possibly another reason a match with her made sense.

  “I know the conversation we just had cast her in a rather favorable light, but you should be aware of her reputation. She’s gone unwed for so long because she’s known to be an utter featherbrain. She talks incessantly, primarily of things of no interest.”

  Such as teaching cats to dance. He couldn’t help laughing.

  “Why is that amusing?”

  “No particular reason.”

  “That doesn’t trouble you? I can’t see you married to someone foolish.”

  “No, it doesn’t trouble me, because she isn’t like that. I’ve spent enough time with her to judge for myself.” But now more than ever he wanted to know why she led others to believe she was silly-minded. He knew it was a ruse of some kind. But why? He ached to find out.

  “Enough time?” She sounded quite skeptical. “I count two occasions—dinner and tonight. I daresay that isn’t enough exposure to know for sure.”

  He couldn’t tell her about meeting Miss Knox that first time. And Ned was certain that had been the real her. More real than the woman she’d tried to be with him tonight. Until he’d called her out. In retrospect, he wondered why she’d given up. Why not lead him along? The more he thought of her, the more questions he had. And the more he wanted answers.

  “You’ll have to trust me when I say I do. Miss Knox is not her reputation. Just as I am not mine.”

  Aunt Susannah exhaled. “You’re right, my boy.” She was well aware of what people said about him—that he left a trail of brokenhearted young women in his wake. “You make an excellent point. I shall not judge Miss Knox too harshly.”

  “Thank you. I’m quite impressed with her enthusiasm for visiting the hospital.”

  His aunt chuckled again. “I’m sure you are. I couldn’t help but admire that as well. She does appear to be exactly what you are looking for.”

  Perhaps. It was taking a great deal of effort to keep his anticipation in check.

  “Are we going to the gaming room?” Aunt Susannah asked.

  “If you’d like.” At his aunt’s nod, he steered her from the ballroom. “Did you discover anything about Miss Knox’s family, other than that they aren’t supporting her this Season?”

  “Her father is a baronet,” Aunt Susannah said as they walked into the gaming room. There were several tables with various games, and Ned guided her toward the loo table, knowing that was what she wanted to play. “They reside in Bedfordshire.”

  “And they had no quarrel with Lady Satterfield taking her in and giving her a Season?”

  “Apparently not, but I suppose that wouldn’t be common knowledge. If they did object, I imagine Miss Knox wouldn’t be here.”

  Very true. So many questions… He couldn’t wait to see her again. For a host of reasons.

  Yes, she met his requirements. The ones he kept on paper to be checked off like a list for a visit to the tailor. The ones he harbored in his mind and his heart, however, those were different. They were things he hoped for but accepted he might not find. Attraction. Companionship. Love.

  He realized those things had been absolutely lacking in every other woman he’d taken an interest in. Indeed, he hadn’t ever expected to fall in love—he wasn’t sure he wanted that. He’d seen what love could do, how it could permanently break a person and destroy a family. That wasn’t precisely true. It wasn’t love that wreaked such havoc, it was what people could be capable of in the name of that emotion—and it wasn’t all good.

  Even without love, he could see companionship with Miss Knox and, for the first time, he saw his potential bride as a woman. From the pure, intoxicating blue of her clever eyes to the lush fullness of her kissable lips to the supple curve of her breasts to her alluring scent of lavender and honey, he longed to touch her. To feel her. To kiss her. To put her to a test he hadn’t even imagined with anyone else. Blood rushed through his body, awakening his senses.

  As he deposited his aunt at the loo table, he reined himself in. Miss Knox stirred something in him no one else had. Something he was eager to explore.

  Last night’s ball hadn’t gone at all according to plan. Aquilla had anticipated it would be her final foray into the Society that had never welcomed her and in which she felt like an oddity. Yet she’d somehow come away with an intent not only to see Lord Sutton again, but to perhaps engage with him in his charitable endeavors.

  And she knew his intent—to see if she would suit him as a wife. She’d dropped her guard with him because she’d deemed him safe. Based on his past actions, she hadn’t thought he was actually looking to wed. None of Society thought that!

  However, not only was he on the hunt, he’d set his sights on her. Her!

  She could scarcely believe her misfortune. This made her smile as she finished clasping her favorite pendant—a cameo that had belonged to her grandmother—around her neck. What she called misfortune, others would hail as luck.

  She was still smiling as she left her chamber and nearly ran into the housekeeper, but her smile quickly faded when Mrs. Landis spoke. “Miss Knox, your mother has arrived and is awaiting you in the drawing room.”

  Her mother? Aquilla’s palms grew instantly damp and her neck became chilled. Summoning a courage she wasn’t entirely sure she felt, she nodded at Mrs. Landis before passing her by and heading down the stairs.

  She moved slowly, taking each step as if she were headed to the executioner. What could her mother want? Aquilla honestly couldn’t think of a thing, other
than it surely wasn’t good.

  By the time she reached the landing, her heart was beating strong and hard against her ribs. She forced herself into the drawing room but didn’t bother acting as though she was happy to see her visitor.

  “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  Lady Eloise Knox turned from the window that overlooked the street below. It was cloudy today, as usual, with intermittent rain. The dreary weather suited her mother with her mud-brown hair, stormy gray-green eyes, and perpetual moue of distaste. Dozens of tiny lines fanned out from her mouth, indicating how hard her flesh had worked over the years at maintaining that expression. It had to be exhausting, but Aquilla knew it came naturally. Where people might describe Aquilla as sunny and pleasant, they might characterize her mother as precisely the opposite—a rain cloud that blew in and punished the earth with unrelenting gloom.

  How Aquilla had managed to nurture even a modicum of optimism was a mystery to her now that she was grown. Now that she knew the truth.

  Mother scrutinized her from head to foot, always looking for some imperfection. She’d often said it was a good thing that Aquilla was beautiful, that it would serve her well. That it hadn’t netted her a husband frustrated both her parents. Her father had said it was wasted on her. “You look well, Aquilla. How are you?”

  It was a pleasantry, nothing more. “I am well, thank you. And you?”

  “As ever.” Meaning she was as unhappy as she’d always been. “Your father sends his regards. In fact, he’s the reason I’ve come.”

  Aquilla’s anxiety had eased since she’d walked into the room. The anticipation of seeing her mother was always worse than when Aquilla was actually in her presence. The same could not be said of her father. Though he’d never raised a hand to Aquilla, she still harbored a fear that he might. She avoided him as much as possible, and that had been more than acceptable to him.

  But her mother’s words made Aquilla think there was perhaps something wrong with her father. Apprehension sent a chill down her spine, but not because she was afraid for him. On the contrary, she was horrified to realize she would welcome bad news about him. Good heavens, what sort of person did that make her?