What the Duke Desires

by Jenna Petersen

  He tilted his head, and though his words were teasing there was a heat in his stare that made Lillian’s very blood tingle and all her objections to his attentions fade away. She swallowed hard.

  “That would be you, by the way, Miss Mayhew,” he whispered.

  “You are very rude. I am certainly not the worst croquet player I know.” She tried to maintain a light tone, but her voice was suddenly husky.

  His eyes widened. “You know worse? Good Lord.” His arm came out to fill the space between them and hovered there. “You must tell me more about this crime against sport and nature. Perhaps while we take a turn about the gardens?”

  Again, Lillian swallowed. It seemed her body was determined to war with her mind, for she found herself leaning toward Simon, even as her brain screamed at her that he was the son of a man she hated.

  But how could she refuse him with everyone watching? And even if they were pretending not to, they were all watching. Resistance could only bring trouble. In truth there was little choice in the matter.

  Suppressing a sigh, she slipped her fingers through the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her away from the croquet field into the garden, which was edged by a shrubbery that came up to her waist.

  “And now I have another confession to make,” Simon said as they walked slowly down the path through beautiful flowers and carefully trimmed bushes.

  “And what is that, Your Grace?” she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

  “I do not wish to talk about croquet,” he said with a light laugh. “Unless that is a true passion of yours.”

  She stopped in the middle of the pathway and glided her hand away from him. It felt warm as she clutched it to her breast.

  “Your Grace, forgive my impertinence, but why in the world do you insist upon pursuing me?” she burst out. Immediately she wished to snatch the words back or recall the moment.

  Years of rejection rose to the forefront of her mind. Men who had seemed interested, but ultimately pushed her aside when they uncovered the rumors of her past. Simon had to know about her mother by now. Someone certainly must have let him know if only to discourage him. And yet he continued down this unexpected and unwanted course.

  Simon looked at her long and hard before he spoke, but his expression was not one of disappointment or even shock. He seemed to be truly considering her question before he said, “Because, Miss Mayhew, unlike the other women who have gathered here, you interest me. And truth be told, you confuse me. Not many people manage that feat.”

  “Confuse you?” Lillian repeated.

  He nodded. “One moment you are playful, the next you seem determined to get as far away from me as humanly possible. I saw a love of books reflected in your eyes when you stumbled upon my library, but you pretended disinterest when I asked you about it. I don’t know what to think of you or how to read you and I like that. I like the uncertainty.”

  Lillian blinked. His reply was entirely unexpected. She didn’t think any man had ever been so straightforward with her. Most danced around with pretty words and never really gave an answer. But this…this was an answer.

  “Not to mention the fact that you are quite beautiful, Miss Mayhew,” he continued, and now he took a small step closer. “Lillian.”

  She was suddenly aware of how tall he was. And that he smelled faintly of pine, as if he spent a great deal of time outside in the fresh air. She found herself breathing him in subtly. But then she shook her head and backed away, desperate to break the strange spell he had woven around her with pretty words and heated glances.

  “There are at least a dozen beautiful women here, Simon.” She flushed as she realized her slip. It seemed her private use of his given name had instilled bad habits in her. “Your Grace.”

  But a light of triumph had already brightened his eyes. Her use of his name was only encouragement to him.

  She hastened to add something else, to counteract her inappropriate statement with a fact that would crush his interest.

  “Those other women are far more appropriate than I am, as well,” she finally whispered. “If you are on this path to court me, I would bring nothing to you, Your Grace. No money, no alliance with a powerful family, in fact, my connections would bring you down in the estimation of some. I did not come here to pursue that kind of connection to you; I have no illusions that I shall marry, perhaps at all.”

  He smiled again, but this time there was a gentleness to it. “All that you say may be true. However, I find that I don’t really care that much. I do find you interesting, Lillian, whether you like it or not, whether you expected it or not. And since I have the power and the access and the time, I intend to pursue my interest.”

  Lillian’s lips parted as he moved even closer. She felt his body heat now, suffusing her fine linen gown, warming her beneath in a way that suggested naked skin and writhing bodies. With a start, she turned away, but he caught her wrist and held her steady.

  “You are a riddle I intend to solve,” he whispered, his gaze holding hers.

  Before she could find her voice to reply, there was the sound of a throat clearing from behind her. Lillian shook off his hand and turned to find the dowager duchess, Lady Billingham, standing with her arms folded, staring at them. Staring at Simon was actually more accurate. She did not spare Lillian so much as a glance.

  “You are neglecting your guests, Your Grace,” she said, her tone chilly. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Lillian thought she heard just the faintest sigh from Simon before he moved forward. “Yes, Mother.”

  As his mother left the garden, Simon turned back to her. “Will you return with us?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’d like to remain in the garden for a few moments.”

  He smiled. “Good. I hope you shall find something interesting to consider.”

  She watched his retreating back for a moment with a silent curse. Because of him, all she would think about for some time was the feel of his fingers around her wrist, of the sound of his words while he stated his intention to pursue her, and of the way he had looked at her with such heat that it had warmed her to her very toes.

  All she would think about was him.

  Chapter 6

  The next evening, as she readied herself for the welcome ball, Lillian found her thoughts returning again and again to Simon and their encounter in the garden. She had tried to forget it, ignore it, even curse it, but it leapt to the forefront of her mind despite all attempts to squelch the memory.

  “You are thinking of him again,” Gabby said as she fastened the clasp of a pretty string of pearls around Lillian’s neck.Lillian’s lips thinned. She could only hope she would not be so transparent to Simon.

  “A fact I despise myself for, I assure you,” she huffed as she examined herself in the mirror.

  Although her gown was not as lavish as her friend’s, it was pretty enough. She wouldn’t look like anyone’s poor relation, at least.

  Not that it mattered. She wasn’t here for courting.

  “He was watching you at supper last night.”

  Lillian let her eyes squeeze shut. “At least we have not yet been seated beside each other. I cannot imagine what would happen then. But yes, I noticed he was watching me. And again at breakfast this morning.”

  Gabby got up from her seat and smiled. “I don’t know, Lillian. I think it’s rather romantic that he would so honestly declare his interest in you.”

  Lillian frowned. “I suppose under normal circumstances I might agree. I have always appreciated straightforward individuals. But these are not normal circumstances and Simon is not a ‘normal’ person. He is the son of a man I hate more than any other. And my father’s dying wish was that our family have vengeance. I have no choice but to continue on that course. I certainly cannot cease simply because I find the man attractive. My mother deserves better. She deserves for the world to know that her attacker was not a good man.”

  “Yes,” her friend said softly. “There is that
.”

  Lillian stiffened as guilt bubbled up to the surface of her consciousness. She pushed it away by adding, “Besides, given his upbringing and his father, I rather doubt that he is being true.”

  “What do you mean?” Gabby’s eyebrows knit together.

  “His father was able to hide his real nature from the world. How can I take Simon at face value knowing that Roger Crathorne may have taught him some valuable lessons on the manipulation of women?”

  “And you think he has been practicing those ‘lessons’ on you since your arrival? That nothing he has demonstrated or expressed has been genuine?”

  Certainly the heated expression in Simon’s eyes had seemed sincere and his words appeared earnest, but who knew?

  “Perhaps he does want me, maybe because I am so very wrong for him. But does that mean he has any interest in me beyond getting me to his bed?” Lillian shrugged and tried to ignore the warmth that spread through her at the thought. “Well, that is another issue entirely.”

  Gabby blushed, and Lillian wished she could take back her blunt words. She sometimes forgot that aside from being younger, her friend was also far more innocent and sheltered.

  “None of this really matters,” Lillian said with a sigh. “For I have no interest in the man beyond what I can uncover about his father through him. Whatever the nature of his interest, I do not return it. I cannot even if I wished to. It would be a betrayal of my family.”

  Her friend looked at her as if she didn’t quite believe it, but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced at the clock. “Oh my, it is time to assemble for the ball. Are you ready?”

  Lillian took one last glance at herself in the mirror. She was presentable, but not flashy. Perfect to blend in, if Simon would simply allow her to do so.

  And yet, as she followed Gabby from the room, she couldn’t help but wish that she possessed a gown as pretty as her friend’s. Something that would make her feel beautiful. Something that would erase, at least for a few hours, her true purpose in being here and allow her to pretend that she was just another girl spinning around the dance floor.

  One who had caught the eye of the most eligible man in England, if only for a moment.

  The ball was in full swing, and Lillian couldn’t help but congratulate herself. In the past hour she had managed to avoid any direct contact with Simon. In fact, aside from a few pointed glances in her direction, he seemed to have forgotten her entirely. He was dancing with other women and chatting with his guests, utterly engrossed in his duties.“You seem troubled,” Gabby said, shooting a side glance toward her aunt Isabel. The older woman was standing just beside them, but she appeared completely oblivious to their conversation.

  “Oh no, of course not,” Lillian hastened to say. “I was actually musing on how lucky it is that Simon seems to have lost interest in me entirely. He has not so much as looked at me in over an hour.”

  Her friend’s eyebrow arched. “I see.”

  Lillian’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t like her friend’s tone and was about to say so when the dowager duchess approached from across the room and came to stop at their group.

  “Good evening,” Lady Billingham said, her voice as chilly as the brief glance she spared their group. “I trust you are all enjoying yourselves tonight.”

  Gabby nodded. “Oh yes, Your Grace. It is a lovely ball.”

  “Hmmm.” Dismissing Gabby with a turn of her head, the duchess focused her attention on Lillian.

  Normally she wasn’t affected by the perusal of others. She had grown accustomed to the stares and shakes of the head that had followed her since her mother’s death.

  But Lady Billingham was a different beast entirely. When she looked at Lillian, a desire to turn away rose up in her. She wanted to run. Or at least hide from the dismissive glance of a woman who clearly had nothing for her but utter disdain.

  “I would like a moment of your time, Miss Mayhew.”

  Lady Billingham’s tone could be read as nothing but an order, and since Lillian had no good reason to refuse, she found herself nodding.

  “Of course, my lady.”

  The duchess motioned her to follow and Lillian did, moving into a quiet corner of the room where no one stood. When the lady turned on Lillian slowly, she pierced her with another of those cold stares.

  “Miss Mayhew, surely you understand that the only reason you were invited here is that Lord Watsenvale asked for that boon himself.”

  Lillian flinched. Her Ladyship was as direct as her son, although it did give her a small satisfaction that the duchess had no idea of Gabby’s forgery of the letter from her father. It seemed her friend had been right to do so.

  “Well, I thank you for including me, and I thank the earl for asking the favor,” Lillian replied, drawing calming breaths before and after she spoke. If she behaved as if she was afraid, she had no doubt a woman like Lady Billingham would strike like a cobra.

  A sniff was the other woman’s reply. “Yes, well, I hope you don’t take my charity for any other kind of acceptance. You are obviously well-aware that the new duke is looking for a bride, and that this gathering is a way to introduce him to suitable young ladies.”

  Lillian’s heart throbbed. “Of which I am not.”

  “I see we understand each other.” The duchess smiled, but it was very thin. “Miss Mayhew, I certainly understand your desire to elevate yourself. One could even admire your gall at making the attempt to snare a duke, if only it weren’t such an appalling endeavor.”

  Lillian gasped, her hands coming up to clench in front of her chest. Her cheeks burned and her every limb trembled. “My lady, I assure you I am in no way trying to snare a duke.”

  “Are you not?” The duchess looked at her up and down. “If that is true, then you may forget what I have said. However, since it appears you are lying, I will reiterate. Simon shall marry someone appropriate, Miss Mayhew. I hope you won’t forget yourself simply because you’ve shared some time with him. Or allow his charm to make you think he could truly overlook your more…distasteful qualities.”

  As Lillian stared, silenced by humiliation and anger, the duchess stepped back. “Now if you will excuse me, I have many important guests to attend to. Good evening.”

  Apparently she did not expect an answer, for she stalked away. Lillian was just as happy, for she could not have formulated a response if her life depended upon it.

  It wasn’t as if the woman had said anything that Lillian hadn’t heard before. Her standing in Society had never been an exalted one. Her father had no title and a very small amount of money, but he did have a good family bloodline, so they had been included in many invitations. During her first few Seasons, Lillian had even garnered some interest from men who did not need to marry for fortune. She had held out hope she might marry a man she liked and could love.

  Those dreams had died five years ago when her mother took her own life. As hard as the family tried to cover up that fact, the truth had been impossible to keep hidden. Rumor and fact had leaked out, whispered in drawing rooms and back halls by servant and master alike.

  Since then Lillian had seen Society change toward their family. They had still been invited, of course, but watched. Murmured about. The men who had once shown her interest slowly moved away.

  Eventually Lillian had given up the hope of marrying someone within that circle. And she had told herself their words didn’t hurt.

  And yet tonight, standing in the corner of a crowded ballroom, Lady Billingham had managed to ferret out every wound Lillian had ever had, and she felt all the pain keenly, as if those past pains had just happened all over again.

  What right did the woman have to tell Lillian that she wasn’t worthy? Her own husband had been a monster masquerading as a paragon of virtue.

  Lillian lifted her chin. When the truth came out about the late duke, then Lady Billingham would regret her words. She would feel their sting fall back on her and her family. For a moment, Lillian reveled in that thought, but then s
he sighed.

  When the moment came, she knew it wouldn’t erase this feeling of anger and sadness and humiliation. It wouldn’t change what had happened to her mother, or bring her back to Lillian and Jack. But at least she could feel as though she had fulfilled her father’s final wish. At least she would know that her mother’s attacker would no longer be seen as a man to be honored and revered.

  Suddenly the room felt too small, the people too loud, the dancing too wild. She was trapped by it all, including her own promises of vengeance, unable to escape this duty she had been forced to undertake by her father and her brother’s irresponsibility.

  She looked around. Across the room, the terrace doors all but beckoned. It was a bit chilly in the late spring air, and that would limit the people who would go out to escape the ballroom. Outside she could be alone.

  And that was what she wanted. To be alone. And to forget the duchess and Simon. At least for a little while.

  Simon watched Lillian edge around the ballroom to the terrace doors. There was something odd about the way she moved. She was stiff, her steps jerky in a way that was very unlike her normally graceful self.He hadn’t been able to talk to her all night. That had been orchestrated by Rhys and his mother, no doubt, for they were forever throwing people and responsibilities into his path so that he wouldn’t seek out the only young woman whom he had any interest in at present.

  But now, watching her practically run from the ballroom, he refused to be deterred any longer. He excused himself from the conversation he had been having and strode across the room. He saw Rhys moving to intervene once more, and pivoted to face his friend. The other man stopped and they locked gazes from halfway across the room.

  Slowly, Simon shook his head. Rhys seemed to fight an internal war for a few charged moments, but finally he inclined his chin in surrender and returned to his fiancée. Simon pushed onto the terrace and snapped the doors shut behind him.