The Duchess Diaries: The Bridal Pleasures Series

by Jillian Hunter

  “Verity, you may discharge your fan like that only in an emergency. Can you imagine what effect your action would have upon a suitor’s hearing?”

  “I keep forgetting, miss.”

  “No one is liable to forget you if you disrupt an event with such a noise. Now, you will recall that the last five letters of the alphabet are known as the fifth movement. Bring your fan—delicately, ladies—to your forehead.”

  She surveyed the class with satisfaction. “Very nice. Now signal to me the following message: ‘Dance with me,’ using the movement of your right hand to the left arm to begin.”

  “Miss Boscastle, Verity spelled out a vulgarity to me!”

  “Verity—”

  The girl stood and pointed her fan at the window. “He’s back!” she said excitedly. “The man in the window, miss. I just saw him peeking in at us. Let’s get him, girls.”

  “Let’s not!” Charlotte said in a horror. “At least, not any of you.”

  She rushed to the bell cord, motioning to one of the older girls on her way. “Fetch Ogden and the footman.” Then: “Are you sure you saw someone, Verity?”

  The girl nodded vigorously.

  “Line up, ladies, and exit by the side door.”

  “What about you, miss?”

  “I shall be fine.” And she knew that she would. A peeper was unlikely to threaten her in broad daylight, when the streets hustled and bustled with witnesses. She wasn’t alone. She was prepared this time. She would get a better description.

  She hurried out into the hall to intercept Ogden in the act of answering the door. “Stop,” she said. “Don’t let that fiend into the house.”

  “The fiend, miss?” the butler said in confusion, staring at the man who stepped into view.

  “Phillip,” she said in astonishment. “Was that you staring at us through the window?”

  He swept off his hat, his red hair windblown, his manner grave. “I was hoping to catch your attention.”

  “You certainly accomplished that,” she said, her lips tightening. “You have upset everyone in the house.”

  “By trying to attract your notice? I thought I was quiet.”

  She felt the servants gathering in the shadows behind her. “It wasn’t you who was prowling outside the window the other night, was it?”

  “Good God, no. And please refrain from using your fan.”

  She lowered her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “May we speak alone?”

  She glanced around. “It isn’t a good time.”

  “Please.” He gave her the insincere smile that used to melt her heart. Now it insulted her intelligence. What had she ever seen in him? How wretched it would have been if he had returned her affection and she had married him, forever believing herself to be a giantess with big teeth, instead of the goddess Gideon could not resist.

  “Your brothers told me that I should not come here,” he added. “I am risking their friendship to see you.”

  She sighed. “Very well. Come with me into the drawing room. Rankin.” She turned to the young servant who had silently entered the hall, a bat clutched in his hand. “You can put that down,” she whispered. “But I’d like you to accompany us. Goodness knows the girls don’t need another scandal to set them off.”

  “I would prefer to talk to you alone,” Phillip persisted as she led the way to the formal room.

  “That isn’t done,” she said, dismissing his request with the confidence that had come from…Gideon. He might not ever love her, but he had respect for her feelings.

  “You’ve been alone with Wynfield.”

  She spun around, her fan poised. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

  He stepped away from the fan.

  “Are you going to brain me again?”

  “Not unless you give me reason.”

  “I feel stupid gadding about London with an egg-size lump on my head.”

  “You should have thought of that before you accosted me in the theater.”

  “Accosted you?” he said in disbelief. “How can a man who is hoping to save you from your regrettable affair with the duke be accused of anything so dastardly?”

  “You’re the one who’s behaving like a dastard,” she said. “Now come with me or go away.”

  He sighed. Then he followed her, and the footman followed him, positioning himself between them like a garden wall.

  “Does he have to stand in the middle like that?” Phillip asked over Rankin’s shoulder.

  “Yes, I’m afraid he does.”

  “Charlotte, I am here to offer you a chance to escape your sordid engagement.”

  “My what?”

  “I know that this match with Wynfield was the result of an innocent indiscretion.”

  She pursed her lips. “Do you?” She was sure that she had been indiscreet. But her thoughts about Gideon hadn’t been innocent at all.

  His jaw hardened. “I also know his reputation as a libertine. He took advantage of you. How else could it have happened?”

  “Oh, Phillip, Phillip.” She leaned to the right of Rankin’s shoulder to address the question. “It was the other way around. I trapped him. In fact, I had been laying my trap for months. I wove a web that neither of us could escape.”

  He smiled uneasily. “You don’t have to defend him to me. I saw what a beast he was at the theater. An arrogant bully. A domineering—”

  “—duke?” She sighed. “Why the rush to wed me now, Phillip? Were you waiting for the moment I fell in love so that you could ruin another dream for me?”

  “Another dream?” he asked slowly. “I was your dream?”

  She shook her head. “At one time. Incredible, isn’t it?”

  “I think you’ve become far too—” He frowned, breaking off. “Very well, I shall be truthful. My cousin Ardmore has no male heir except me. I am to receive an inheritance upon his death.”

  “And?”

  “And—” His face reddened a shade lighter than his hair. “He will give me half of my legacy now if I marry into an aristocratic family.”

  “I should have known,” she said in chagrin. “Well, there are other families in England to exploit.” She gestured to the door. “Happy hunting.”

  He changed his stance. “You are guileless, Charlotte. He’s taking advantage of you.”

  “I’m as guilty as sin. It’s a fact. Accept it.”

  “Let me marry you. We shall elope this evening.”

  “Elope? Gideon would tear you into a thousand pieces before we could leave London.”

  He gave her a pitying look. “No, he won’t. He will thank me for rescuing him from a marriage he never sought. You’re not the type who attracts men like him.”

  She turned away.

  She knew better than to let Phillip’s opinion wound her. It would have been perfect if Gideon had chosen her of his own will. If she were honest with herself, she had to admit he intended to be her husband in name only. She knew his tastes ran to sultry trollops who had studied the art of seduction.

  But she wasn’t about to give him up without a battle. She could still be the most polite lady at the ball and a passionate companion in the bedchamber. If Gabrielle and her ilk thought to steal Gideon from his wife, then Charlotte would take off her elbow-length gloves and do battle with all the fire of her Boscastle forebears. And if Phillip thought he could win her back—well, it wouldn’t happen. She didn’t want to spend her life with a man she had academically and romantically outgrown. He was yesterday’s news. The duke was tomorrow’s scandal.

  “Charlotte,” he said urgently. “You must decide. We’ve known each other for years. I lost you through my own mistakes. But I have changed.”

  “So have I,” she said. “You have to let me go, because even if he doesn’t love me, I do love him.”

  She would rather grow old with Miss Peppertree than marry Phillip. The two spinsters could dodder around together, meddling in other people’s lives. Because if Charlotte di
dn’t marry Gideon, she would never marry at all.

  “Listen to reason,” Phillip said, his voice rising in anger. “The duke is only going to break your heart.”

  Chapter 28

  Gideon had spent the morning with Devon, attending a fencing exhibition that Kit had performed in Knightsbridge. Ordinarily he would have returned to the salon with Kit for a celebration. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Charlotte. He’d like to believe, as she did, that there was no connection between her lost diary and the face she’d seen in the window. But it was too much of a coincidence that her diary had gone missing the same night the major had been burglarized. His mind kept trying to put all the pieces together.

  And his inattention was obvious to his friends. “Do you want us to drop you off at Charlotte’s academy?” Kit asked slyly, lounging across the carriage with his sword in his lap.

  “No. I need to practice today.”

  Kit pressed his sword to the window. “Aren’t we close?”

  “Very close,” Devon said, serious for once. “Perhaps we should stop by, Gideon. In case that man is still in the area.”

  “I don’t know,” Gideon said, watching Kit slide a soft cloth over his sword. “She’s probably in the middle of a lesson.”

  “I think you’re dying now to see her,” Kit said. “I think that she means more to you than you want to admit.”

  Gideon slumped back against the squabs. “Does it really show?”

  Kit laughed. “You’re trying to convince us that you’re marrying her only because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Gideon shrugged. “She’s lovely; I do admit it, and there’s something about her that makes me…insane. You must help me. I don’t know what happened. I’m dying to bed her— Excuse me, Devon. I was speaking frankly and forgot for a moment that she’s your cousin.”

  “That’s perfectly all right,” Devon said. “I enjoy bedding my wife, too, and Charlotte will be yours in a few days.”

  Gideon shook his head. “She makes me laugh when I don’t feel like laughing. Take this diary nonsense, the things she wrote about me. I ought to be furious. I was furious. But now I don’t quite understand what I feel.”

  She had deemed him deserving of her love. As a result he found himself wanting to live up to her expectations of who she thought he was. Without even realizing when it happened, he had stopped playing a role. And he would marry her with an open heart.

  He should have resisted. But it was far too late. She was in his blood, under his skin. He would never be able to live the parallel life to hers that he originally had planned.

  “When she looks at me…I feel like I’ve been struck with a strange fever.”

  Kit glanced at him. “Maybe you have a medical condition. Would you like a surgeon to examine you?”

  “No. Have him examine Devon’s head.”

  “He already did,” Devon said. “He took some instrument and stuck it right into my ear and looked.”

  “And?” Gideon said.

  Devon shrugged. “He said everything was clear.”

  Kit lifted his brow. “No. He said that he could see clear through to the other side.”

  Gideon grinned and subsided into his thoughts as they began insulting each other.

  Perhaps he could learn to be content. Perhaps he was content now. He hadn’t believed it possible.

  Charlotte needed him. And in a sense that went beyond the physical.

  But perhaps he needed her more, and so did his neglected daughter. He had missed so much of Sarah’s life. He could not salvage what they had lost. But he wouldn’t repeat that mistake. Not with her or with the siblings he hoped she would soon have. He thought Emily might be pleased.

  He couldn’t have chosen better than Charlotte if he had spent the rest of his life searching for a woman to replace the mother his daughter had lost. Now there would be someone besides his butler and disgusted housekeeper to care whether he drank himself to death. With his marriage to Charlotte, he was gaining more than a wife. He would have a family.

  “Fine,” he said, sitting up. “You’ve talked me into it. Let me off on the corner. I’ll walk the rest of the way to the academy. Charlotte probably won’t like my coming there, but it’s her last day. I’ll just stay a few minutes. I’ll wait in one of the rooms where I won’t be a distraction.”

  Miss Peppertree virtually dragged him into the house and down the hall to the formal drawing room. “Thank heavens you are here!” she cried, her spectacles sliding down the end of her nose. “Hurry! He has her alone. Well, Rankin is there, but he’s not the force that you are. I was listening at the door, for her protection, you understand, and I heard the word ‘elopement.’ That would be the end of her. The school. Of me.”

  “Calm yourself, Miss Peppertree,” he said, while a haze of fury filled his mind. “You must have misunderstood. Who is with Charlotte? Sir Daniel? Her brother or one of her cousins? They might have said ‘engagement.’”

  Gideon considered Phillip, but the man would be courting a death wish to force his presence on Charlotte when he’d been warned by Gideon to stay away. It couldn’t be the lout.

  “There, Your Grace,” Miss Peppertree said, pulling open the door. “See for yourself.”

  He froze, catching the line of what must have been a very disturbing conversation, to judge by the look of relief on Charlotte’s face when she saw him.

  “This duke of yours will only break your heart.”

  “No.” Gideon banged the door open with the flat of his hand, eliciting a gasp from Miss Peppertree, who had slipped around him and barely escaped being flattened to the wall. “You’re wrong. Her duke will only break every bone in your body.”

  “Not in the academy!” Miss Peppertree exclaimed in horror. “I will not have it!”

  Phillip turned, his smile reckless, unconcerned. “You took me off guard at the theater. I am prepared for you now.”

  “Good.” Gideon wrenched off his glove and slapped Phillip as hard as he could across the cheek. Phillip did not flinch. But his eyes went black, and his mouth hardened as he turned his head to stare at Gideon’s face.

  Charlotte turned pale. “Oh, no. Don’t do this.”

  “He already has,” Phillip said, fingering the welt on his cheek.

  Gideon flicked her an annoyed glance. “Please leave the room. This is not a matter to be settled in front of gentlewomen.”

  “I—”

  “Now.”

  She hesitated, then lifted her dress and hastened away, sharing a shaken look with Miss Peppertree. Rankin moved to the duke’s side, assuming an air of confidence now that Gideon had taken control of the situation.

  Gideon glowered at Phillip, who appeared to be shrinking, as if he finally realized what manner of enemy he had crossed. “We will meet tomorrow, sir, to settle this for once and all. Your choice of weapons?”

  Phillip swallowed. “I’d be a fool to ask a student of Fenton’s for anything except pistols.”

  “You were a fool to set foot in this house after I gave you the chance to escape with your life.” Gideon glanced around, at the sound of footsteps, astonished to see Kit and Devon entering the room. “What are you doing here?”

  “Devon recognized Phillip’s servant standing outside,” Kit said, shaking his head. “He thought there might be trouble. I take it there is.”

  Gideon nodded. “We are meeting tomorrow to clear the air. I will be in contact with you, sir, about the particulars.”

  “You fool,” Devon said unsympathetically to Phillip. “You deserve whatever he dishes out. I am tempted to settle this myself. She is my cousin.”

  Phillip did not answer, striding from the room in tight-lipped silence. If he regretted angering Gideon he concealed it. And if he wasn’t sorry yet, Gideon thought, he would be tomorrow.

  Charlotte came to a halt in the middle of the hall, Miss Peppertree at her heels. “The girls must not hear of this. It mustn’t happen. I have to stop it.”

  “I
agree,” Miss Peppertree said. “If you don’t it will be the absolute ruin of us. There will be witnesses and a recounting in the papers. And if the duel ends badly for either man…well, I shudder to think of it.”

  “I shall have to stop them,” Charlotte said with a growing sense that she would not succeed.

  “How?”

  “What do you suggest?” Charlotte asked. “I can’t think. Why do men act like this? Please, Daphne, give me your advice. What can I do to intervene?”

  Miss Peppertree’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “You could invite the duke to supper and drug his wine.”

  “Were you reading that book on the Borgias again? Why are you drawn to these morbid subjects?”

  “I don’t know,” Daphne said, wrinkling her brow. “Why are you drawn to dangerous men?”

  Charlotte didn’t have an answer.

  It had been dangerous to fall in love with the man she had made him to be in her diary. A man she could manipulate at will. But the Duke of Wynfield was neither a dream lover nor a complete wastrel. He was something real.

  She had dreamed up so many happy endings. She had dreamed that a dark-haired duke would notice her in a crowd and never look at another woman again. She’d had to keep him secret. And now that romance had found her she understood why no one in her family acted with any logic whatsoever once that right person appeared and threw everything off course.

  “Perhaps you should reason with His Grace,” Daphne suggested.

  “That would be my preference, but I’m afraid he is not in a reasonable mood. Did you not sense his wrath? Do you think a man of his nature would appreciate a lecture at this point? He would not forgive me.”

  And as if to confirm this statement Gideon emerged from the drawing room to stride past the two ladies with only a curt nod to acknowledge their presence. Kit and Devon followed at safe distances moments later.

  “I see what you mean,” Miss Peppertree murmured. “He is a formidable man when aroused.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I meant when his passions are…Well, not that sort of passion.”