by Sandy Raven
“What utter malarkey, Your Grace,” she scoffed. “You no more know me than you do the scullery maid at any one of your estates. I’m not believing a word of your colorful, yet dispassionate, plea for my hand. You don’t want me. It is obvious. You’re being forced now that my aunt found you kissing me.”
“I do not make a habit of asking ladies to marry me. You are, in fact, only the second woman to ever receive such an…invitation.” He stepped a little closer, until he stood so close he could see the faint quiver in her delectable lower lip. “And you returned my kiss, Amelia, do not pretend you didn’t.”
He saw indecision, fear, and even…desire in her upturned face. Cav wanted to kiss her again, but feared frightening her. As if reading his thoughts, she backed away, toward the open doors overlooking the garden. “While I might not have wished to marry before last night, I do now.”
“There! You just admitted that you do not wish to marry me,” she surmised. “And I will not marry a man because he was caught kissing me. Why… You might as well tell me straight out that I was forced upon you.”
Cav tried to get her attention as she paced the space between the tea service and the French doors. But she was paying him no mind as she went on.
“I don’t want to be forced upon any man. Or be any man’s second choice. I want—no deserve—to be a man’s sole desire.” She stopped, looked up at him and added, “Because of that I must refuse your generous offer, Your Grace.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Any other woman would have accepted his offer of marriage and the only two women he’d ever actually asked refused him. Oh, he had no doubt he’d get her to agree. Cav knew all he had to do was kiss Amelia and she’d say yes.
But this was different. Amelia was different. Independent. She’d likely been caring for her family even while her father lived. She didn’t know any other way. How was he going to convince her that she, Miss Amelia Manners-Sutton, was his desire? He brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face and when his fingers touched the warm skin of her cheek, he felt a shock course through him, waking up long-dormant sensations.
“Amelia, I am no young buck. I play no games. I desired you the evening we met in the garden maze, just as I desired to kiss you last night. Right now, I desire you so much that a certain part of me is in constant agony because I want you naked, in my bed. Under me. On top of me. Beside me.
“And, I will not give up in my pursuit of you, until you say yes.”
She took a shaky breath and threw back her shoulders, holding her head high. “Why are you doing this? You do not know me. Is this because of last night? If so, I absolve you of any guilt over your actions.”
He shrugged. He didn’t have a good reason. Reason had fled his mind the moment he kissed her. When he’d arrived here four days ago, getting married again was the furthest thing from his mind. And now? It was all he wanted with this young woman who stirred his heart and his manhood, but something else as well.
Cav stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. She was so soft. So fresh and unspoiled. He loved the way she moved, her sense of humor, her pride and strength. He found her manner engaging—when not in fear of discovery by her aunt. Remove that oppression from her life and everything about her told him she would make a perfect duchess.
His perfect duchess.
She ducked away and he let her go. Whatever she wanted to say seemed to be important to her, so he gave her his attention. “After my mother died, I decided I wouldn’t wed because my father and brother needed me. Now must repay my father’s debt before I can settle down. I am almost twenty-nine. My prime years have been spent working to support my little brother through university. He is almost finished. And—” Her voice cracked as she became overwrought with emotion. “And if Harry returns to Guildford, I want to be there.” Her gray eyes widened at a sudden thought. “Good God, if he tries to send word to me, how will his letter find me? Aunt Katherine will never forward them just to spite me.”
Cav had never felt this odd sensation—a possessive jealousy—before the very moment his future wife mentioned another man’s name. Before now possessiveness had always been about possession. Now an indescribable, almost painful feeling grew inside him. Who was this Harry? A man she’d betrothed herself to?
Trying his best to keep his voice strong and authoritative, he asked, “And Harry is?”
“My brother.” She worked to control her feelings. “He disappeared the week before my father’s death, en route back to university.”
Cav felt a heel for automatically presuming the worst and instantly understood her pain. He feared daily for the safety of his own sailor son, especially after several crewmen from some of his own ships disappeared from the docks just a few months back.
“He did everything we told him to do to protect himself. He traveled in groups, didn’t encourage the anger of strangers, and still the press gangs found him. The gangers took their whole group from the pub they’d visited for a meal the night before they would have arrived in Cambridge. One more day and they would have been back in their lodging.” Her voice had an eerie, hollow quality to it. “It was his last term. His last one.”
And in her tale was the deepest darkest fear he had for his own son. It was the reason Ren was angry with him at that moment. Cav had ordered him to remain at home until this latest rash of abductions passed over. With two wars now being fought, there was a scarcity of willing sailors to man His Majesty’s fleet of ships. The press gangs were providing a service. He understood this, had even voted for it all those years ago. But back then he never thought they would be at war this long, and now on two fronts.
The impressment gangs’ manner of abducting young men repulsed him, because some of the men charged with the power to impress had no care for whom they took. Which was why his son was going to remain where Cav could at least protect him. With his sailing skills, Ren was a prime candidate for impressment. And Ren was his only son and heir to the dukedom. Just as Harry was all the family Amelia had left.
“I am sorry for…everything. If there was a way I could bring your brother back, I would.” Perhaps he could at least discover which ship the young man was on, and whether he was still alive. Cav, with his connections through his shipping company, had men with eyes and ears all over the various docks in London.
“My father was so upset when the investigator returned with the details of what had happened that he was dead within days. You see, the boys fought back and Harry was unconscious—but alive—when he was carried away.”
“If you can give me the date and location from which your brother was taken and any other information the investigator presented to your father, I will see what my connections can discover.”
“You can do this?”
The surprised awe in her voice made him wish with all he had that he could make this miracle happen for her. So many families never saw their loved ones again. “I will try. I cannot promise anything.”
“But how?”
He gave her a wry smile and shrugged his shoulders. “I know some people in that world.”
Cav thought he witnessed the weight of all her worries fall away from her shoulders and a small, heartfelt smile formed on her beautiful face. He could never tell her that some of the people he knew were the ones who on occasion did the abducting. The men were not friends, but they respected Cav enough to warn him to keep his only son away from certain areas at certain times. Too, he had connections at the Admiralty. Eventually impressed sailors got listed on a ship’s roll because even impressed sailors were paid and collected their prize shares. Both were resources he could press upon to search for his soon-to-be brother-in-law.
“I would appreciate nothing more in the world, Your Grace.” She seemed to consider her words carefully before speaking again. “You never answered me when I asked why you are doing this—demanding we marry. I obviously have nothing to give you in return. I have no dowry, no property or even servants. Why do you want me whe
n so many others are a much better match for you?”
“The other day in the maze, you didn’t know who I was, friend or foe. And you spoke to me as an equal. I was intrigued. Only one other woman treated me as an equal in my entire life, without speaking to me in that deferential tone everyone else uses. She called me to task when I needed it. I didn’t realize how much I needed her until she was gone.” Cav wondered how it was possible that two women who were so similar in personality, behavior and attitude could possibly have crossed his path during his lifetime. How could a man be so lucky? “Last night you knew I’d been hiding from your aunt. While I might have initially kissed you to silence you, there was so much more in that kiss.”
While he and Lizzie might not have started off with a deep affection, it quickly grew into one. With Amelia, Cav knew there was the potential for more than just affection almost immediately upon meeting her. This didn’t mean he loved Amelia more, he felt he could love her differently. And he knew in his heart that Lizzie would understand.
“Then you slapped me. You called me on my unconscionable rudeness, just as Lizzie did when I needed to be brought back to my senses.” He met Amelia’s gray-green gaze and knew he was quickly losing his heart to her delicate strength. “Sometimes I feel as though everyone is one sentence away from asking me for a favor, or else they’re hangers-on wanting to be in an inner circle of some sort. For that reason, I don’t allow many close to me.”
His future wife gave him a sympathetic half-smile and it warmed his heart. These were things he hadn’t said, hadn’t even thought about, since before his wife’s death. And they were topics he wanted to bury before they wed. He needed to enter a relationship with Amelia free of any mental encumbrances remaining from his previous marriage and his extended bachelorhood.
“You ran away from me, wanted no part of me, and I realized I had to have you.” He stepped forward and lightly traced the backs of his fingers over the satin-soft skin of her cheeks. “I would take you as my bride today but I have no license, and you deserve more than a hasty marriage with gossips whispering as to the reason why.”
“Thank you. Your offer is very generous. But….” The quaver in her voice told him yet again how vulnerable she was. It made him feel needed, and he wanted nothing more than to protect her, though her hesitation was beginning to cause some concern.
Quickly Cav took any choice she might make away from her. He wanted her to know he was not going to take any refusal of his proposal. “I would like to leave for London today.” He reached for her hand, lifted it, and kissed her palm. “There is much to do to prepare for a wedding in one month.”
She looked as if she contemplated the greatest problem in all the world, the way her eyes squinted and her lips scrunched into a tight little line. “I cannot leave for Town yet,” she said. “You see, I made plans to go with some of the other women today.”
Cav smiled. “Are you the ape-leader of that excursion?”
She gave a soft chuckle. “I’m no ape-leader. I merely arranged an outing for the rest of us—all companions not required to accompany their employers—to see the stone circle. We thought it sounded like an interesting outing for a summer day. Mrs. Harlan has asked cook to pack us a picnic luncheon and if we hurry, we can be back before our employers return from their excursion.”
Cav didn’t understand. He offered her the world and she wanted to picnic with servants in a cow pasture with standing stones.
“And I never agreed to marry you, Your Grace. You assumed I would but I have not yet decided.”
“What is there to decide?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would she refuse? Surely she wouldn’t humiliate him like this, in front of his friends?
“Whether I should give up my independence.” She turned away, as if to leave. “However, if we could leave tomorrow, that would be preferable to me. And while I am with the other women today, I will think of nothing but your assumption that we will marry.”
“Why do you call it that?” He was beginning to become annoyed. He was not used to having things go against him, either in a relationship or anywhere else.
“Because you have not asked me, Your Grace.” The smile on her face told him she was teasing him.
Admittedly he was somewhat embarrassed that he’d not asked the lady yet. She must think him dim-witted. He had to rectify this soon, though he wanted it to be memorable for her. The proposal would have to be as special as the lady.
If remaining behind one extra day would please his new wife, Cav would of course wait. With one concession. She would dine with him tonight. Alone. When he told her his price for waiting an extra day, she simply smiled and left him there in Merivale’s study. And Cav could have sworn she swung her hips a bit more than normal as she walked away from him.
With his mind made up, Cav decided he would ask Amelia to marry him tonight—after first seeking Merivale’s help with making it a special evening. One his new wife would never forget.
After a delightful excursion to the standing stones nearby, Amelia arrived back in her suite of rooms just in time to find her temporary maid Gertie waiting with fresh hot water in a hip bath. “His Grace has sent word that you will share dinner with him at the pavilion in the maze, one hour after your return from your outing. He has seen to all the arrangements.”
“He does appear the type to make those kinds of decisions and expect them to be carried out, doesn’t he?” She thought back to the groom wearing Caversham livery who accompanied them during their outing today. The man stayed an appropriate distance behind them, but always within a reach should there be an emergency of any sort. She’d asked the other women if the man was a sweetheart of one of them, and they’d all said no. Amelia knew then that His Grace had sent a protector to watch over them—as if Lord Merivale’s grooms were not sufficient protection.
“I cannot say, Miss,” the young maid said. “I am Lady Merivale’s personal maid’s assistant. I am unfamiliar with the duke’s habits.”
“Gertie, it was a rhetorical question,” Amelia said. Gertie gave her a curious tilt of the head, and she explained, “I really wasn’t expecting an answer.”
The maid helped Amelia shed her walking dress and damp boots, then her undergarments. Her feet were chilled to the bone after having walked through a damp pasture to see the ancient stone circle in Stonehenge, and she couldn’t wait to step into the tub to warm them. The arrangement of cut stones was worth the trek—and the cold feet—though in her opinion it was rather underwhelming in appearance. They were just stones. Some standing, some not. They were enormous stones in a cow pasture as the duke had said.
“Gertie, do you know if my aunt has gone?”
“Yes, Miss. She and her maid left right after breakfast.”
Amelia frowned as Gertie helped her bathe, realizing she was truly alone here. Her aunt had actually left. Left her here, with a stranger who said he wanted to marry her. How could she trust his word when she didn’t know him?
Perhaps that second slap had knocked some sense into him.
Only now she worried about upsetting him or alienating him. What would happen to her then? Where would she go? The only person aside from Gertie who knew His Grace intended to marry her was Aunt Katherine, and she was no longer here to support her. Not that it was likely she would have supported her anyway. Caversham could change his mind and it would leave her ruined, and her aunt would never accept her back in her home, nor would any upstanding family should she seek new employment. Not after word of what happened in Merivale’s library got out.
And word always got out. Gossip such as this—the nobody who landed a duke—was too juicy a tidbit to keep quiet for long.
She could refuse to marry him. After all, he’d not asked her. She could return to London and try to eke out a quiet living as a book binder. Surely some of her father’s former colleagues could use an assistant in their shop.
That might work.
She decided to tell His Grace that she was
grateful for his offer but felt uncomfortable accepting it. No matter that she was attracted to the man, becoming his duchess would change her life significantly, and some of it not for the better. As her aunt had reminded her this morning, that life was something she had never been prepared for.
People would laugh at her every misstep and foible, and they were likely to happen. She wanted to return home, but that could never happen again. And if she could get work in London, then she could put the word around on the docks for Harry, should he return. This might be the better way for her—even as unfamiliar with the city as she was.
“Miss, His Grace will be waiting.” Gertie held a towel out to hurry her along.
Five minutes past the hour His Grace set for their dinner, Amelia arrived in the center of the maze, escorted by a footman who apparently thought she might lose her way in the evening twilight.
She smiled at His Grace, who returned the unspoken greeting and dismissed the footman. Standing near the outdoor bench, she lifted her gaze into the pavilion and saw two servants near the sideboard laden with covered platters and two bottles of wine. A small round table set for two was in the center, and colorful, cut, hot-house flowers filled the outdoor room everywhere with their scent. Four candelabras lit the inside the marble structure with just enough candlelight.
“Would you like a drink?” His Grace asked, looking far too elegant for her own good. After greeting him and meeting his gaze, her eye was immediately drawn to the diamond and ruby pin in his cravat. Clearly it was worth more money than she could ever hope to earn in her lifetime.
Even though she wore her finest mourning dress, it was old, as it had been one of Aunt Katherine’s hand me downs. Amelia wore no jewelry at all as she didn’t own any, having sold it all to help pay her father’s debt. She felt so far beneath him, so far from elegant, that she wanted to sink into the earth.