Wish Upon a Duke

by Jamie Salisbury

  Finishing her missive, she called to Norma, who came running from the dressing room.

  “I need you to see this is delivered immediately to the Duke of Clevedon.”

  “Yes, madam.” The young woman lingered for a moment, as though unsure if she should do as Savannah asked.

  “Is there a problem, Norma?”

  “No, madam. Yes, madam. The countess, she wants to see all your correspondence before it’s delivered.”

  Savannah checked her temper. How dare Lady Dorset. She had no business reading or interfering with her correspondence. “I’ll take care of Lady Dorset. Unless you wish to lose your position, please do as I ask and see this is delivered immediately to His Grace. Do I make myself clear?”

  The maid bobbed, took the folded and sealed note, and fled. How dare Lady Dorset undermine her and her maid. If Savannah weren’t so furious, she would confront the countess this very minute. Instead, she decided it best to wait until she calmed down.

  Sitting on the side of the bed, Savannah removed her boots to lie down for a while. She was more worn out than she originally thought, more now that she found out the countess was intercepting her mail. She couldn’t wait to see what sort of excuse Lady Dorset might have when confronted with the facts. The older woman was far wilier than Savannah had first given her credit for. If she didn’t put a stop to it now, her mother-in-law would never stop. She likely expected that with Savannah being new to England and the ways of the peerage, she wouldn’t question what she did. Little did she know that Savannah was going to respond in a way she couldn’t imagine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Promptly at two o’clock the next afternoon, the Duke of Clevedon arrived. Ever since Savannah received his missive, her curiosity had grown. There was something important he wanted to discuss with her. He had mentioned going to visit his solicitors on Vincent’s behalf, to whom he’d sent the estate ledgers and other paperwork.

  She dressed in a new dark-rose-colored muslin dress and had fussed more than usual while getting ready for the duke’s arrival.

  He strode into the drawing room with airs, wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit with a white shirt and light gray cravat. His golden-brown hair hung around his collar in waves, the sun picking up shades of red highlights.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace,” she said. She had been standing by the hearth when he arrived.

  “Mrs. Dawson.” He took her hand in his and bowed over it. She felt a tremble go through her limbs at the touch of his hand. His tempting, masculine scent of leather and fresh air wafted to her.

  “Tea, Your Grace?”

  “Please. While we’re waiting, would you care to take a turn in the garden?”

  She thought it an unusual request, one normally reserved for couples who were courting or who had an interest in each other. Curiosity got the best of her. “Of course,” she replied.

  He led her outside to a gravel path. They walked slowly in silence for a few minutes until he stopped and gazed down at her. “I apologize for being so mysterious. I thought we’d have more privacy if we spoke out here.”

  “We could have spoken in the drawing room. The countess hasn’t been down yet today.”

  “Part of what I need to say concerns her, which in turn will affect you.”

  He went on to tell her about the countess’s spending habits and how he was going to put a halt to it.

  Savannah bit her lip. “You’re right, she’s not going to like it.”

  “No, and I’ll have the discussion with her. Since Timothy died, she seems to believe she can spend the earldom’s money as she wishes.”

  “She receives an allowance, doesn’t she? Perhaps it should be increased.”

  He nodded and began to walk again. “Already done. I’m also setting you up as well. You are the mother of the earl and should have money at hand for fripperies.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “No need to thank me. I’m concerned your husband’s estate may be consumed by his debt. The losses of his ships depleted his fortune. Of course, now that Vincent is the earl, you should not be concerned. It is a mystery, however, what happened to the loans and investments your husband received.”

  “I thought his solicitors did audit the estate,” she replied.

  “They had, but there are some discrepancies I think should be looked into.”

  Curious, Savannah lifted a brow. “Very well. I can’t imagine what it could be. Roland was home so rarely, and when he was, he never spoke to me about his business affairs. I trust you know what’s best, and that you’ll keep me informed when the solicitors have finished.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  She smiled. She knew he had her and Vincent’s best interests at heart. Though she knew how to keep books, managing something as complex as Roland’s shipping business and other interests was best left to someone like Clevedon.

  She herself was drawn to him, something she wasn’t sure how she felt about. He was attentive and listened to whatever she had to say. He didn’t seem to regard her as some mindless female who couldn’t hold a conversation with a man unless it was about the weather or perhaps a rose. One could only say so much about the weather. Oh yes, and he was terribly handsome. So much so, Savannah thought there should be some sort of law regarding men’s beauty.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. For everything you’re doing for Vincent and me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Your name, Savannah... It’s very unusual.”

  “Very American,” she replied with a smile.

  “Yes, I suppose so. Isn’t there a town by that name?”

  “There is. It was where my parents met.”

  “Fascinating. I’ve never been to America. Never had a reason.”

  “Perhaps someday you will,” she said. She glanced toward the house. “Shall we go in?”

  “Yes.”

  They walked back to the house, where Gabriel followed her into the drawing room. “I’ll ring for tea,” she said quietly.

  She sat across from him as they waited. They spoke about their literary preferences as they waited.

  A moment later, a knock on the door came, and the butler and footman entered with a silver tray holding a pot of tea and two cups.

  She handed Gabriel a cup and took her own. She caught him gazing at her over his teacup. Surprisingly she was at ease with this. She wanted to know what he was thinking, if he was attracted to her as she was to him.

  “What are your plans while in Town? Besides going to the modiste?” he finally asked.

  “I’m not sure. I know there is a ball in a couple of days, and I’m sure there will be more invitations. The dowager countess is taking care of all that.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the theater one evening. From what I understand, there is a very well put together production of Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, if I’m not mistaken,” he said before taking a sip of tea.

  “I’ve never seen Shakespeare performed before. Not professionally, that is.”

  “Then we must go.”

  “I would like that very much, Gabriel.” She couldn’t believe it. What was happening here? Her heart was beating faster. Was it because she was simply sitting next to him? Was it lust? Her body was acting in ways it hadn’t in years.

  He leaned down. My God, he was going to kiss her!

  And kiss her he did! He kissed her deeply, and as he did, desire coursed through her body.

  Her mouth was hot as he thrust his tongue inside. She moaned at the sensation. She grasped his shoulders as he pulled her closer. She tasted of salt and honey. Then he realized where they were and abruptly ended the kiss. He wanted more. Dear God, he wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in years...since... No, he wouldn’t ruin this moment.

  “I believe I could use another cup of tea,” he said. “I apologize for losing control.”

  Lust still coursed through his veins, and he knew as he’d known during tha
t kiss that she was meant to be his. In his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. She possessed an air about her none of her English counterparts could match. She wasn’t shy, and she didn’t giggle. Instead, she carried herself like a queen. She smoothed her skirts.

  He tried to steer the conversation to safer topics than kissing. “The Duke and Duchess of Liverpool’s ball is this evening. I trust you and Lady Dorset will be attending.” Knowing the dowager countess, she wouldn’t miss being seen at one of the premier summer events. Any time the duke and duchess had a social event, people waited anxiously for their invitation.

  “Yes, we’ll be there. And you?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there. At least for a while.”

  “You don’t care for social events, do you?”

  He nodded. “Not particularly, though I tolerate them because it’s what’s expected.”

  “Then that’s a good quality, being a duke and all. You can pick and choose what events you attend.”

  “Quite true. I can.”

  He watched her as she daintily sipped her tea. She seemed to be deep in thought and avoiding his gaze. This was probably the first time since Roland had died that she’d been kissed, and he was glad it had been him.

  Her fingers softly touched her lips before she appeared to remember they were in the middle of a conversation. “You will inform me of your solicitor’s findings regarding Roland’s estate?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Was it because of Vincent you decided to audit Roland’s estate?”

  “Partially. I had some questions while I was going over the paperwork myself and thought they could best answer them if they simply audited everything.”

  She pushed a few stray hairs behind her ear and put her cup on the table in front of her. “I’m grateful to have someone like you looking out for Vincent and me.”

  “Roland was a dear friend, and I’m sure he’d do the same for me if our roles were reversed.”

  “He would.”

  Gabriel wondered how she was going to react when she found out her beloved husband wasn’t the stand-up gentleman he had appeared to be. Most of Gabriel’s inquiries wouldn’t alert anyone. He was doing a routine audit on behalf of the Earl of Dorset, which extended to monies and property left by his father. This included the plantation obtained by Roland. The very one his friend had kept making business voyages to.

  “Your Grace?” He heard Savannah’s lilting voice in the background of his thoughts.

  “I apologize. Wool-gathering, I suppose. You were saying?”

  “I was asking if you knew if any of Roland’s ships were in London.”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. Easy enough to find out. Why?”

  “I should like to see one. Also his warehouse.”

  “The docks are no place for a lady,” he replied.

  “Yes, I know, but I’d like to see what it is my son now owns. Besides,” she said with a confident smile, “I always carry a pocket pistol Roland gave me and taught me to use.”

  “That’s hardly sufficient.” But Gabriel let out a long sigh. He knew she wouldn’t give the matter up until she had her way. One thing he’d learned about her was that Savannah was very persistent.

  “Let me check and see if one’s in port first,” he replied. “I’ll take you one time and one time only. As I told you, the docks are no place for a lady, regardless of how strong she may be.”

  She shook her head, her pink tongue darting out of her mouth, licking her lips and getting Gabriel’s attention immediately. “What could possibly happen in the middle of the day? Surely no one would accost me.”

  “You’d be surprised. A well-to-do lady such as yourself portrays money to them. You would be considered easy prey.”

  “I suppose you want me to reconsider.”

  “I would advise it, yes.”

  She smiled. “Just like you kissed me?”

  “Kissed you? You kissed me, madam,” he replied, amused by how she quickly changed subject matter.

  She gave a breathy laugh and patted her hair. “I can assure you it was you who kissed me.”

  “That’s not how I remember it,” he replied.

  “Then you have a very short memory, Your Grace.”

  For a second, he wasn’t sure whether she was teasing him. And how had she jumped from wanting to visit the docks to the kiss they shared earlier?

  He rose from his chair. He needed to get out of here, away from her. She was too intoxicating, and he was afraid he was no match for her. “Thank you for the tea. I shall see you tonight at the ball.”

  “I look forward to it, Gabriel,” she replied. Hearing her name spoken in her American accent made him want to kiss her senseless, but the dowager countess was most likely lurking around some corner. She was the last person he wanted to run into right now. This evening would be another matter entirely. A more enjoyable time, and the countess would more than likely busy herself with her friends.

  He strode out of the drawing room and out to his stallion, who had been brought around from the mews behind the house. As he rode away, Gabriel realized he was in danger of losing his heart to the American widow, something he’d vowed never to do again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Savannah was hard-pressed not to stare as she entered the ballroom at Lady Dorset’s side. Above, four chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals sparkling like miniature stars. Along one wall, mirrors were draped with garlands of flowers and gold and silver silk. Another large arrangement hid the musicians from view.

  “How splendid! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Savannah exclaimed.

  “Don’t gawk, my dear. It isn’t becoming,” Lady Dorset muttered.

  Savannah glanced around as they entered the ballroom. Heads turned toward them; people were staring and whispering. But why? Was it because she was American?

  She looked up to see a rather tall gentleman with his wife beside him. She was petite and uncharacteristically thin. She wore a calm but slightly amused expression on her face.

  “Mrs. Dawson. It’s a pleasure to see you, as always,” the gentleman drawled.

  “Parr,” the dowager countess replied dryly. “Lady Wexford. May I introduce Mrs. Savannah Dawson. As I’m sure you’ve heard, she is my son Roland’s widow. My dear, may I present the Earl and Countess of Wexford. Wexford and Roland attended Eton together.”

  “Always a pleasure to meet friends of my late husband,” Savannah replied.

  Lady Wexford smiled. “How are you liking London?”

  “I enjoy what I’ve seen, though I can see why everyone leaves during the summer.”

  Beside her, Lady Dorset winced. Though it was perfectly acceptable for her mother-in-law to be to the point, she didn’t approve when Savannah was blunt. Lady Dorset smiled stiffly.

  “If you’ll excuse us, I should like to introduce Mrs. Dawson to some of the other ladies.”

  Lady Dorset meant widows, matrons, and young ladies who’d never made a match. The group society now placed Savannah into whether she liked it or not. Another one of the things that bothered her about how women were treated.

  Lady Dorset swept her across the room to a group and made introductions. Much to Savannah’s disbelief, the dowager countess then turned and abandoned her, making some excuse about wanting to speak with their hostess.

  Savannah politely spoke with a young woman next to her. The girl had never been married, and her parents promised one more season to find a suitable match, which meant whatever man would take her as a wife. The more seasons a woman had, the bleaker her choices became.

  Glancing across the room, Savannah caught the dashing figure of the duke. Gabriel. He was politely speaking with two young women, whose mothers hovered in the background hoping for some sign of recognition for their daughters from Clevedon. Would he sign their dance cards? Savannah knew from her first encounter at a social event similar to this that the duke was not fond of dancing. Nor of being
paired with any particular lady.

  Suddenly, he glanced up, and their eyes met from opposite sides of the room. He nodded ever so slightly in her direction. She smiled and unfurled her fan. While she was grateful for his attention, she didn’t want him to feel obligated to entertain her. His agreement with the countess had been made on Vincent’s behalf. Anything else was of his own doing.

  She imagined the duke had quite a long line of young ladies all vying for his attention. All they wanted was one glimmer of hope, no matter how small, that he might be interested. Though he’d failed to mention it to her, Savannah learned Clevedon had voiced an interest in taking a wife recently. He should, as a man of his position needed a wife to give him an heir. The future of his dukedom depended on it, though she didn’t doubt Gabriel would have no problem finding a wife. She would be devastated of course. The thought of him with another woman, especially since that kiss, sent a wave of jealousy coursing through her. If there was any chance for them to have a relationship she didn’t want to lose it.

  She turned her attention back to the young woman, Miss Jane Collins. Her father, Savannah learned, was a viscount and quite the landowner in the northeast part of England. She had a likeable personality. Miss Collins was one of the few young women who didn’t view Savannah being American as though she had the plague.

  Gabriel was making his way across the ballroom toward her. Every female eye lingered on him as he ended the conversation he was having and smiled politely at the young woman. The orchestra was playing a rather lively number, so he had to walk along the edges of the ballroom, acknowledging everyone he passed.

  “He’s coming this way,” Miss Collins observed.

  “Who? Who’s coming?” Savannah asked, as she feigned not knowing what Miss Collins was referring to.

  “His Grace. He’s headed this way as though he knows you quite well.”

  Savannah smiled. “You picked up on that merely by the way he walks?”

  “No, but it is a well-known fact that the duke is assisting in the upbringing of your son. Rumor has it that it is merely a matter of time before he asks you.”