The Reluctant Duchess

by Sharon Cullen

  Elizabeth waved a hand in the air. “We don’t stand on much formality, Sara dear. After all, you were practically family.”

  Were practically family. The past tense stung a bit and increased her guilt. Just last night she’d kissed the man who had almost been family to her.

  “What are you reading?” Elizabeth asked as she settled into a chair across from Sara.

  “Oh.” Sara had to look at the spine to remember what she had been reading. “A history of Scotland. Although I must admit, I haven’t been particularly attentive.”

  “Well, there is a lot of history to cover. Are you enjoying your stay in London?”

  “Of course.”

  “What brings you to town?”

  Rossmoyne had made it clear that he had not told his mother Sara’s true reason for being here. “It was time to order some new gowns, and while the seamstress of Hadley Springs is passably talented, I really wanted to come to London and do some shopping.” She’d told her father she was visiting the Earl and Countess of Blackbourne, but she couldn’t perpetuate that lie with Elizabeth, because it would be easily discovered that the Blackbournes weren’t in residence in London at the moment. Oh, all of the lies she was spewing made her feel sick.

  However, she hadn’t had a new gown in a few years, and while she’d never thought overmuch about fashion, it seemed a good enough excuse. Who knows, maybe she would do some shopping here. The more she thought about it, the better she liked the idea. A new gown sounded wonderful.

  “And how are your parents? Such dear people. You know my late husband and your father were close friends.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Sara admitted, confused as to whom Elizabeth was referring.

  “They went to Cambridge together, from what I can recall. Such a terrible tragedy when he died.”

  Ah, so they were speaking of her real father.

  “I confess I don’t remember my parents very well,” Sara said sadly.

  “I didn’t know your mother well. We met once or twice, and it was so long ago. It’s very fortunate that the current marquess and marchioness took you in.”

  Was there censure in her tone? Sara was not usually sensitive to such things, because her new parents had made it known that Sara was considered theirs. No one even mentioned it because it had been so long ago. “I consider them my parents now,” she said.

  Elizabeth smiled. “And well you should. They are good people. How are they?”

  “They are well.” Sara refrained from telling the duchess that she hadn’t seen her mother in over a year. There was no need to get into that story. Although she wouldn’t be surprised if the duchess already knew. Word traveled quickly, and separated couples were always food for the gossip mills.

  “How are you, Sara?” The duchess looked at her with a steady gaze. So much like her son’s and yet so different.

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I mean how are you? How are you faring?”

  Sara looked at her warily. “I’m well. Thank you.”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m not one to pry, Sara.” She looked away and seemed to think about what she wanted to say, then looked Sara boldly in the eye. “I know your mother isn’t around much, and you take care of your father. Are you truly doing well?”

  Sara had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. Just as she’d expected, Elizabeth had heard of her mother’s departure from Hadley Springs. If Elizabeth knew, then everyone in society knew. Not that it made much difference. Sara’s days in society were long over. Her life consisted of caring for a father who lived more inside his own mind than he did in the real world. Hadley Springs was her home and where she felt safe and comfortable. Town living wasn’t for her, and therefore the gossips shouldn’t concern her.

  Or so she’d told her herself for the past two years. But now that she was in London, she discovered that she missed coming to town occasionally. She didn’t miss the social whirl—that had been Meredith’s forte. Sara missed the intellectual aspect, the arts, the museums, and simply being in a city that was the center of the world. Hadley Springs had one lending library, and she’d read nearly every book in it. She’d also made use of her best friend’s massive library at Blackbourne Manor. But here in London, there were many lending libraries and books and places of learning and people of learning whom she could talk to. She regretted that she didn’t have time for such frivolities during this visit. Maybe she should make more of an effort to visit London to partake in the cultural center of the world.

  “We truly are doing well,” she said, turning her mind from all of the silly stuff. “Father is happy at home with his studies. He has an affinity for astronomy and is more often than not in his workroom charting this star and that. I have friends whom I visit, and the spring festival committee that tends to meet year-round. All of that keeps me very busy.”

  Elizabeth looked at Sara closely, as if she could discern the truth. But the truth was, she was being honest. Her life was good; not what she had expected, but good nonetheless. She had thought she would miss her mother desperately, but she didn’t. There had been so much fighting before Carolina had moved to Bath. Fighting and tears and accusations on both of her parents’ parts. It had been a relief, in a way, when her mother left.

  “And your mother? Is she happy in Bath?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Oh, yes. She writes to me occasionally, and her letters are full of stories of friends visiting and the various committees she belongs to.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward, her expression sympathetic and full of concern. “If you ever need anything, you let me know. I consider us friends and not just because we were almost family but because my late husband thought highly of your father.”

  Tears sprang to Sara’s eyes, unexpected and unwanted. She wasn’t one to show her emotions, and she hated that she was almost ready to cry in front of a duchess. But Elizabeth’s words warmed her heart where, for such a very long time, she had felt cold and alone. Here was an unexpected link to her real parents, and she savored it.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Elizabeth stood and smiled down at her. “I will leave you to your history of Scotland, then.”

  When she left, Sara found that she was no more interested in the history of Scotland than she had been before Elizabeth’s arrival. She was always a bit shaken when someone mentioned her real parents; she didn’t know why. Maybe because it was a reminder that she didn’t quite fit in with her family. Oh, they never said as much, but Sara sometimes felt that way. It was as if something were missing, that there was a hole inside of her, a deep loneliness that marked her as the orphan she really was.

  She left the study and wandered down the steps to the entryway, where she found James guarding the front door.

  “James,” she said, delighted to find a familiar face.

  “My lady.”

  “Do you know where His Grace and Mr. Montgomery have gone off to this morning?”

  A wary look came over James’s face. “I heard they were off to ask some questions.”

  “Without me?” Had she not made it clear the day before that she was interested in being part of the investigation? Why would they leave her behind? Did Rossmoyne think that he would lock her away in his towering mansion and go about his day? Did he really believe that would be perfectly fine with her?

  “I have strict orders to keep you in the house,” James said a bit reluctantly.

  “Strict orders?” She raised a brow at him. “Since when do you take orders from Rossmoyne and not me?”

  James looked decidedly uneasy, and Sara’s anger softened a bit. It wasn’t James’s fault. He was merely caught in the middle of this…whatever this was.

  “Very well,” she said on a sigh and walked away, having no idea where she was to go. This was a mighty big house, but there wasn’t much to do in it.

  She wandered into the back garden. There were several paths to choose f
rom, each leading to a different part of the garden, but none of the paths sparked her interest. What she wanted was to be with Rossmoyne and Mr. Montgomery. She wanted to be doing something other than sitting in this fine house like another of Rossmoyne’s possessions. Not that he thought of her as a possession. Truthfully, he probably hadn’t thought of her at all, evidenced by the fact that he had gone off without her.

  And after they had kissed and everything.

  No, no. She would not think about that kiss. Absolutely not. She’d already determined that it had been wrong to kiss him. She would not revisit it. She wouldn’t.

  She turned around to walk back inside and came up short with a gasp. Rossmoyne was standing on the terrace, looking down upon her.

  Chapter 10

  “You startled me,” she said as she made her way up the terrace steps.

  “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to.”

  She stopped before him. He appeared tired. His eyes were red, his face pale. Of course, that could be because he’d been drinking the night before.

  “You left me here.” It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t possibly say what was on her mind. That she wanted him to kiss her again. That she wanted to feel his lips upon hers, and this time she would know what to do, how to respond. No, she definitely couldn’t say that.

  “Of course I did.” He acted as if there had been no other option.

  “I thought we agreed that I would be involved in this investigation.”

  “I don’t remember coming to any such agreement. You stated that you wanted to be involved.”

  Oh, this man aggravated her to no end. “You knew what I meant.”

  “I knew what you meant, but that doesn’t mean I agreed to it.”

  “You are bloody arrogant.” She wanted to stomp her foot but thought better of it at the last minute. She would not act childish, no matter how childish he made her want to act.

  His lips twitched, and for a heart-stopping moment she wished with all her heart that he would smile. She imagined that his smile would be beautiful and transform his face into something angelic.

  “Calling me names won’t get you what you want,” he said.

  “Probably not, but it makes me feel better.”

  His half smile slipped away, and once again he was the dour duke. “Montgomery and I went to the hackney stand and questioned the driver on duty the night Meredith was killed.”

  “And?” She forgot to be angry when there could be a lead in the investigation.

  “And nothing. He remembers no more than he did two years ago.”

  “It’s been an awfully long time. People’s memories fade.”

  “Very true.”

  She folded her arms across her body and looked out at the gardens. “I just want to know what happened that night. Who did that to our Meredith and why? That’s all I need.”

  “Do you think knowing it will make things better?”

  “Nothing will make things better again unless we can go back to that night and stop it all from happening.” She shook away the melancholy. “So what is our next move? Where do we go from here?”

  That almost-smile played around his lips again. Unbidden came the image of those lips pressed against hers. She tried to shake that away as well, but it didn’t budge.

  “We are going to eat lunch. Montgomery is waiting for us.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through all that unfashionably long hair. It dropped back in waves to his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. “I know.”

  When it was apparent he was not going to say more, she turned to go back into the house.

  “My lady.”

  She turned back to find him standing against the terrace wall, the sunlight behind him picking out the red in his hair. She could not quite define his expression. He looked pained.

  “I’m residing in your home, and as your mother said, we were almost family, so you may call me Sara.”

  He tipped his head. “My friends call me Ross.”

  “Am I a friend?”

  “I would like to think so.”

  “Then Ross it is.”

  “Sara.”

  “Yes, Ross?”

  “About last night.”

  Oh, Lord. She was not nearly experienced enough to know how to act in this situation. She’d kissed only one man in her life, and he happened to be standing in front of her, determined to talk about that kiss. And while it had been foremost in her mind all of last night and all of today, she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to discuss it with him.

  “My behavior was inappropriate, and I apologize.”

  This was not what she wanted to hear. She didn’t want apologies. She wanted…She wasn’t certain what she wanted.

  “There were two of us in that room,” she said.

  He shook his head. “That’s very admirable of you, but I’m the one to blame.”

  Blame? Oh, how that hurt.

  “I’m sorry that you regret it.”

  He flinched. “Please know it will never happen again.”

  She refused to let him see that he’d shattered her fragile hope that maybe she meant more to him than she really did. She did what she’d done her entire life. She pasted on a smile and lifted her chin. “Don’t be silly. I know it meant nothing. You’d been drinking. We’d been talking about Meredith. Both of those things got the best of you. Now, let us go to luncheon before the others start looking for us. Besides, we have to speak to Mr. Montgomery about what we’re to do next.”

  Ross continued to stand there, watching her with a thoughtful, pained expression. Surely he wouldn’t say more. Surely he would let the entire episode go and not cause her any more grief. Already she could feel how brittle her smile was.

  Eventually, he nodded and offered her his arm, and together they went to find the others for lunch.

  —

  Today Ross’s mother was not able to pull him into the conversation, so the three eventually conversed without him. He didn’t care. He was in a foul mood, and conversation was the last thing he wanted.

  After Sara had fled the study last night, he’d proceeded to drink more, but the whiskey didn’t produce the desired effect. In fact, it seemed to make him more sober. All he could think about was the shocked look on her face, the way her trembling fingers covered her mouth. He’d wanted to curse himself and kick himself for his rude behavior.

  The lady had come to him for help and protection, and what had he done? He molested her in his own study, the one place she should have felt the safest. He was the lowest of the low—the degenerate that society whispered he had become.

  And then Montgomery had shown up early in the morning and asked Ross to accompany him on what proved to be a waste of time. No one would remember more. Too much time had passed.

  And yet it seemed one person remembered and was determined to make Sara and Ross remember as well.

  He’d had to apologize to her. He’d dreaded it, but he’d known he had to do it, if only to let her know that she was still safe within these walls. She shouldn’t have to fear him as well as the outside forces that had driven her here.

  “Ross?”

  He pulled his gaze from the lamb that he had been poking with his fork. “Yes?”

  His mother gave him a pinched look. He remembered those looks well. She had perfected the art of chastising without saying a word.

  “My apologies. I was woolgathering.”

  “Obviously.” She arched her brows at him. “Lady Sara was wondering if there was a lending library close by. I thought it would be a wonderful idea to take her shopping as well.”

  “No.”

  Three pairs of eyes looked at him in astonishment. Bloody hell. He was not up to his mother’s machinations today. His head pounded unmercifully, and the entire day had been a futile effort to learn more about the letters Sara had received and to keep from thinking about the kiss that he didn’t n
ecessarily regret yet knew he should regret.

  “Why ever not?” his mother asked in that voice that told him she was not at all pleased with his behavior.

  “Mother, Lady Sara is not here for shopping and lending libraries.”

  Elizabeth looked at Sara in confusion.

  “Actually,” Sara said carefully, “part of my reason for visiting London was to acquire a more updated wardrobe.” She looked pointedly at Ross. “I would not mind doing a bit of shopping and getting a few books from the lending library.”

  He cursed silently. Apparently, Sara had told his mother that she was here for some shopping. He’d look like an ass if he didn’t let her go.

  “James would come with us, of course,” she added.

  Ross had no doubt that James was a fine bodyguard in Hadley Springs, but London was an entirely different city with entirely different horrors. He didn’t trust James to protect Sara in London.

  “When were you planning on going?” he asked.

  Montgomery looked at him in pity, as if he knew that Ross was not only treading on thin ice, but that ice had already cracked. Hell and damnation.

  “Really, Ross, I don’t know why you’re so concerned. We’re perfectly safe doing a spot of shopping. But if you’re so worried, then why don’t you join us?” His mother shot him a sly look.

  What in the world was she up to? Ross knew her well enough to know she was up to something that didn’t bode well for him.

  Montgomery placed his napkin on the table and stood. “I just remembered that I have a meeting to attend at Scotland Yard. While I would like nothing better than to escort two beautiful women through a shopping adventure”—he appeared to try not to choke on those words—“I fear I must be off. Good day.”

  Montgomery made a hasty exit, leaving Ross with two pairs of hopeful eyes looking at him.

  “I would rather be boiled in tar than go shopping,” he said.

  Sara made a sound like she was biting back laughter. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes that he just recently learned were more gold-flecked than brown, danced in merriment.

  His mother, however, was less than pleased. “Then it’s settled,” she said with an authority he had never been able to overcome. “We will meet outside in a half hour, and you will take us shopping. Ross, call for the coach.”