My Darling Duke

by Stacy Reid

His manservant was hurrying up the stairs, his face creased in worry. Once he reached him, Hoyt assisted him up and back in the chair. Then the man deftly maneuvered him down the broad staircase with thumps and grunts.

  “Take me to Miss Danvers,” he ordered.

  Hoyt’s face lit with approval, and Alexander did not have the care to inform him that he meddled and assumed wrong. The man pushed him with impressive speed down the large hallway toward the front door. The butler wrenched it open, and Alexander wheeled himself over the threshold, staring at the departing carriage that had nearly reached the end of the mile-long driveway.

  “Should I summon another carriage for you to follow, Your Grace?” Hoyt asked, his tone hopeful and anxious.

  Alexander made no reply, staring at the coach until it disappeared from view down the rough roads that would take her back to London. Probably once back in town, Katherine would find that she went on quite happily without him. Perhaps she would discover her feelings for him were not love but merely a passing fancy, an infatuation. Then the pain he’d seen in her eyes would lessen, and she would smile that winsome smile of hers again.

  Yet such justifications did not dull the hunger and desperate love that had grown in his heart by the minute for Katherine Danvers.

  I cannot let her go.

  He closed his eyes in defeat, knowing he had even less to offer her now than he had a few weeks ago. Then, he could be on his feet for a few hours. Now…he glanced down at his bare toes, a silent snarl covering the edges of his lips.

  “Take me to my room.” The moment of madness had passed, and rationality had returned.

  Farewell, Miss Danvers.

  …

  The evening sun burned low in the sky, slowly slipping behind the mountains in the distance. The cool breeze sweeping across the land, the twinkle of sunset glistening atop the lake, the fresh, crisp scent of the air did not bring the joy to which Alexander had been accustomed. A painful, aching tightness lingered inside him, and at the crest of each dawn, that lingering torment only increased its intensity.

  It was a little more than a week since Kitty Danvers had left Scotland and his life. The bleakness he endured had nothing to do with the fact that he had not left his wheeled chair in the wretched nine days she had been gone or because it would take weeks, possibly months to regain his ability of leaving it for even a short time without severe discomfort. He had pushed himself for too long because he had desired the sense of normalcy he had dreamed of in her presence.

  But his body would heal, his strength was returning, and eventually he would find himself out of the chair again, even if it was only an hour or two each day.

  This emptiness was all because of his stupidity in pushing her away.

  Nothing stirred within his gut any longer. No burst of heat, no fleeting flash of pleasure. He had consulted a few days’ past with the more open-minded Dr. Grant, who believed the re-inflammation of the bone might have had a deleterious impact on his awakening manhood. The man had once again suggested self-ministration, but Alexander had not attempted to try.

  The soft crunch of footfalls echoed, and Penny came up beside him. Dressed in a red carriage dress with a matching bonnet, she looked the epitome of an elegant young lady. The picture was ruined by the small piglet clutched lovingly in her arms.

  There had been a strain between them, for he had arranged for her to travel to London. The season was quickly drawing to an end, but there were enough weeks for her to take to society and charm them with her lovely manners. He was confident of her grace, poise, and wit. He trusted his godmother to take care of his sister. Her inheritance of sixty thousand pounds and her dark beauty would see many gentlemen flocking to court her, and Alexander expected the man she decided on would be understanding of her quaintness and sometimes unchecked opinion.

  “There are those who will think you are eccentric if you take…piggy with you,” he said, staring out at the lake.

  Penny sniffed. “I do not care what others think; you’ve taught me that.” She shook her head, wiping moisture from her eyes. “I do not want to go, Alexander.”

  “You cannot remain buried here in Scotland. You are seventeen. It is time to meet other young ladies of your society. Expand your wings and mind.”

  “And dancing at balls will do that?” she demanded scathingly. “I doubt it!”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  Her breath hitched, and her calm facade crumpled. “Leaving you here…to be alone.”

  His heart cracked. “I am never alone. The memories are always with me.”

  She shook her head, her eyes fixed anxiously on his face. “Memories are fleeting and insubstantial.”

  “They are real enough.”

  “I can barely recall Mamma’s face or her scent or her laughter. I remember through you. The stories you tell me are how I keep them alive. Sometimes…I fear if I leave here, I will forget them entirely.” She cast him a sideways glance, her eyes large and wounded. “Do you fear that, too…that if you leave, all memories of our parents will vanish as ashes do in the wind?”

  “I do not,” he said gruffly. “Leaving here and living your life is not a disservice to their memory. That is what Mother and Father would want. For you to have a season or two. Marry well, have a family of your own.”

  Her chin lifted stubbornly. “And if I have other dreams?”

  Alexander smiled. “Such as?”

  She tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ears. “What…what if I want to travel the world, too? Visit the great sights?”

  “Then I’ll support you, always.”

  “I’m the daughter of a duke. Society will have different expectations of me.”

  Her earlier confidence had dimmed, and she now sounded young and uncertain.

  “Hang society. You are the sister of a duke, and I will support you in any endeavor. Within reason, of course.”

  Penny chuckled. “I’ll not do anything to embarrass you.”

  “That I believe is impossible. You are planning to carry the pig to town.” They remained silent for several moments and stared at the beauty of the lake and the lowering sun. “I’ll visit you in London,” he murmured.

  She hurried to stand in front of him, blocking his view of the starlings gliding over the lake and dipping low with such swift grace to fish.

  “Do you promise it?” she whispered fiercely.

  “When I am strong enough. I will need to be there to warn any rakes and libertines away with the point of my rapier.”

  She smiled, relief glowing in her eyes. There was the slightest hesitation before she asked, “And what of Miss Danvers?”

  “I am certain you will be guaranteed to encounter her.”

  “And the engagement?”

  “It is over.”

  Penny searched his face. “Will you make an announcement that she is no longer your affianced?”

  Why did his heart twist in such a violent manner? “If I do, Miss Danvers’s reputation will be tarnished. It is perhaps better to allow the lady to do the jilting.”

  She sighed, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

  When she made to straighten, he grasped her by the shoulder and hugged her close. “I love you, too. Now go and finish your packing. All shall be well.”

  He released her, and she nodded but did not attempt to leave.

  “Do you love her?” she whispered. “Miss Danvers…do you love her?”

  A pounding ache darted through his chest and seemed to split him open from the inside. The feeling was so unexpected and visceral, he rubbed at his chest. “What do you know of love?”

  She thought on this for a moment and then replied, “I believe I saw it when you smiled at Miss Danvers. And you did, quite a lot. In unguarded moments when you thought no one observed you, or perhaps it was as if you could not help you
rself. She would be walking in the hallway, and you would falter, as if arrested…more like spellbound…and you would stare and then smile. You did this several times a day, as if seeing her was the only thing you needed to brighten your mood. I do hope that is love.”

  Christ. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Penny…”

  “I am filled with vanity of self, I think,” she continued as if he had not spoken. “Oftentimes I wonder if I had been hurt as you had, broken bones and dreams, scarred with no hope of a normal life, could I have borne it? There was a time when you wanted to give up, Alexander. I recall slipping into your rooms against express orders to stay away. There was a sweet, awful scent in the smoke that surrounded you. Opium…the servants would whisper. The air would reek of it, and at times I would stray from my room and hear your bellows of anguish and loss. Then one day I crawled onto your bed, slipped my hands into yours, and told you I needed you.”

  She swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. “Do you remember, brother?”

  “I do, Penny.” That had been the first ray of light to pierce his darkness and pain.

  “I want you to be happy. I want you to love and be loved in return. I might not know much about romantic attachments, but Kitty…whenever she looked at you, I felt almost embarrassed at the yearning in her eyes. Her sentiments were wholly returned, and you would be a damn fool if you let her go.” She flushed. “I’ll not apologize for cursing. The brother I know and love does not feel fear or act foolishly. Please do not do so now…not when I can tell she is so very precious to you.”

  Then she stood and walked away.

  Alexander turned the wheel of his chair and watched her go. How much she had grown up over those ten years, maturing into a perceptive and intelligent young lady.

  Katherine was precious to him, and he’d had to stop denying it the first night he slept in the castle knowing she was no longer resting herself in the east wing. That night he hadn’t slept. Or the next night. Exhaustion had claimed his mind and body on the fourth night of prowling the corridors of the west wing, wheeling his chair over and over down the hallway, unable to stop the strange tempest brewing in his gut.

  The crunch of boots had him shifting toward the direction of the lake. He spied Eugene, and the man had an expression of someone tormented.

  “You heard the conversation with Penny,” Alexander murmured.

  His cousin glanced toward the mountains and skyline for several moments. “I’d planned when in town to call upon Miss Danvers in the hopes she might consider me. But now… You love her. I saw your face when Penny spoke just now, Alexander, and I’ve never seen such hunger and need on another before. I entreat you. Share with me.”

  The silence stretched, and then he spoke. “To have Miss Danvers’s uncompromising trust and friendship, to see her smile every day for the rest of my miserable life would be worth anything,” he snarled, slapping a hand over his forehead, hating that tears pricked at his eyes. He was a goddamn duke. A man who had endured hell and had been reshaped with an iron will that had never failed him. Tears were not for the likes of him, yet his throat burned.

  “I have often wondered what it would be like to be not quite so alone in the nights, to have a wife, a friend…a lover to confide my sorrows, expectations, and joys. I’ve struggled against falling in love with her, for the unsuitability of our match was quite evident to me. Yet the feelings she has roused in my heart are unalterable. Sometimes fear clutches at my heart when I think how unlikely our meeting was. What if Miss Danvers had chosen another man to pretend to be her fiancé? What if she had taken a different path?” Alexander murmured roughly. “I would have missed her, Eugene. I would have missed knowing her laughter, her brightness, the taste and feel of her. I would have missed knowing that happiness is still possible.”

  “Then for Christ’s sake, man, how do you bear letting her go?”

  “I do not bear it,” he said gruffly. “The world feels dark without her. And I hurt her…when she is so precious to me.”

  An overwhelming panic crawled through Alexander’s senses, jerking his heart in a manner never before experienced. What a damn fool I am. She was something rare and unbelievable, and he had thoughtlessly lost her.

  For so many years, he had been alone. Those who had tried to connect with him, he’d declined their help, seeing it as a lowering weakness. He’d refused to bow to his infirmities and had shrouded himself in cold distance from it all—empathy, curiosity, love, and understanding. All the things Katherine offered. And more: her smiles, her kindness, and her breathtaking acceptance of all he was.

  Alexander wasn’t a beast, but nor was he a beauty.

  And she seemed to like him despite all of it.

  But where to start when he had been so foolish…where to start when he could not give her more than his title?

  Anything but silence…a deep stillness inside him whispered.

  And Alexander hoped he could start with a letter and a prayer.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kitty’s return to town a few days after she had departed Alexander’s estate was unremarkable. Other than a few newssheet articles speculating if she had run off to marry the duke in secret, there had been little other mention of her almost three weeks’ absence. Her family appeared to have been very well without her, and her sisters happily spent hours that evening informing her of their generous reception within society. They’d received more invitations to balls, picnics, and routs over the last few weeks than during the three years Kitty had been out in the ton.

  A Miss Laura Powell, a very charming young lady of six and twenty with brisk common sense, was now employed as a governess for Henrietta. Miss Powell and her charge got on rather famously, and Henrietta seemed to take to her lessons with pleasure, a feat Kitty had never been able to accomplish. Normally Henrietta tolerated her lessons in Latin, geography, and literature with a stoicism reserved for a more mature child. Now she hummed with eagerness to begin her daily lessons with Miss Powell.

  Another sum to add to the growing bill she would eventually owe the duke. A painful breath sawed from Kitty at the thought of Alexander. She felt so cold and empty, her heart destroyed. His words tormented her and cut daily into her like a poison-tipped knife.

  Kitty was aware of a strange numbness somewhere deep inside. In the nights as she lay in the dark thinking of him, that numbness would thaw, and she’d rage, resenting him with such passion, she trembled. Then that rage would switch so fast to deep yearning, tears would come to her eyes. Kitty hated the conflicting emotions, for she knew the duke did not spare her a thought. For the sake of her family, she had to put on a serene countenance and try to exist as if all were well.

  Alexander’s godmother, Lady Darling, had enveloped Kitty’s sisters under her bosom with encouraging glee, and after spending the better part of the afternoon taking tea with Lady Darling and her mamma in the drawing room, Kitty suspected the countess had relished the challenge of making society fall in love with the poorly received Danvers girls. Kitty also believed the entire mission had enlivened the countess’s boredom.

  “So tell us, my dear, how is my godson?” Countess Darling asked, taking a sip of tea and peering over the rim at Kitty with a searching stare.

  Her mouth dried, and she shot her mother a disconcerted glance. “Mamma?”

  Fortifying herself with a deep breath, her mother replied, “Lady Darling…Sophia and I have become dear friends, Kitty. I told her the truth. That you were in Scotland with the duke and not in Derbyshire. You’ve been home several days now, and I can see the pain in your eyes. We want to help in any way that we can.”

  Kitty bit back her groan and tried to affect an unconcerned mien, but nonetheless she flushed. Gripping the delicate china teapot, she poured more tea into a cup, frantically gathering her thoughts on what ought to be a proper response.

  Lady Darling smiled. “You may rest
assured of my confidences, dear. My heart was awfully glad to hear you were with Alexander in that ghastly remote place of his. I have despaired for him for so many years. When news of the engagement swept through society, I was perturbed and believed it another baseless rumor. There have been so many over the years, you know. Your mother reassured me greatly on the legitimacy of the attachment. Please do not take her to task for telling me.”

  The countess set down her teacup, arranged the skirts of her dress in a more conformable fashion, and pinned Kitty with an assessing stare. “Now, Katherine, why are you here?”

  Because he sent me away, with cruel words and emotionless eyes. Because I was simply a plaything to him and an utter fool to my own heart.

  Because he does not love me.

  The memory of it all churned her stomach. She had reacted like a silly miss, rushing from his chamber with tears blinding her vision. What had she really expected from a man who had never promised any tender sentiments?

  She had packed hastily and had said her goodbyes to Mr. Collins and an upset Penny, who had tried to convince Kitty to stay. The servants had been somber, the housekeeper’s eyes had been suspiciously bright, and a few of the maids had sniffled. The butler had bravely asked if she would return. Kitty had made no promise, her heart an aching mess as he’d loaded her two valises and small portmanteau into the carriage and departed from the duke.

  You bore me… Now go.

  “Well, my dear?” the countess prompted.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady, but this is my home.” Temporarily. She had to find other accommodations very soon. They could no longer live off the duke’s generosity, not when the sum she owed was already so very astronomical. Not when the hopes he would fall in love with her silly self had been dashed so painfully. “And the duke requested I return to town.”

  Her mother and the countess both looked utterly aghast.

  “Is…” The countess cleared her throat, her pale blue eyes glowing with worry. “Is the engagement off? Is that why you have returned?”