by Lauren Smith
“Come now.” Brooke waved her hand, dismissively. “You have never given a fig what society thinks. Don’t make yourself sick over it now.”
“Of course you are right, but for my child, I’ll bow down to every matron of the ton.” Narissa brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “Seth and I plan to win them over, no matter the cost.”
“Then, you shall.” Hannah smiled.
Brooke stepped around a cluster of children skipping rocks across the sidewalk. Two boys and a girl that looked to be around six or seven years of age. All three were dressed in faded clothing and had dirt streaking their faces. Nonetheless, they were jubilant as they played.
She paused and reached into her reticule to pluck out a few coins. Extending her hand to the children, she said, “Take these and get yourselves a treat.”
The little girls’ eyes grew wide at the sight of the coins while one of the boys scooped them out of Brooke’s hand. “Thank you, my lady,” the third child said.
Brooke smiled then pivoted to go. She took a step with her attention still on the children and collided into a hard mass.
“Oh!” Brooke lost her footing and stumbled.
What a cake she was, walking around with no mind for her surroundings. Now she’d collided with another person. Her cheeks burned.
The strangers’ arms came around her, steadying her. “I’ve got you,” a deep voice said close to her ear.
“Thank you.” Her breath caught as her gaze collided with familiar green eyes. Eyes she’d not gazed upon in years. “Drake…Your Grace,” she quickly corrected for they were no longer children, and using his given name was more than a bit scandalous.
He released her and stepped back, offering a bow. “Lady Brooke. It’s been a very long time.”
“Yes, indeed” her voice cracked, “Far too long.”
Hannah nudged Brooke with her elbow.
Brooke could scarcely look away from Drake. Her heart was pounding, a million long ago thoughts and emotions racing through her.
He smiled, then glanced from Brooke to Hannah and back again. “Are you going to—”
“Yes, sorry,” Brooke said, her cheeks heating. “Allow me to introduce you to my dearest friends, Lady Hannah,” she nodded to Hannah,” and “Her Grace, the Duchess of Blackmore,” she indicated Narissa.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Drake gave another bow. “I am the Duke of Grafton.”
“Your Grace,” Hannah and Narissa said in unison as they curtseyed.
Narissa glanced around at the crush of people scurrying up and down Bond Street, many of them stepping aside to move around the group. “It seems we are impeding travel. Perhaps we should be on our way?”
Brooke stared into Drake’s warm eyes, not at all ready to leave him. She had a million questions, a lifetime of curiosity, and an odd ache in her heart. And yet, she was thrilled to see him at the same time. How odd.
“Do forgive my rudeness.” Drake smoothed his cravat. “You ladies are obviously busy.” He averted his attention to their nearby footman. “Allow me to excuse myself so you can continue.”
“Actually we’re finished.” Hannah smiled. “But we should be on our way all the same.”
Narissa hooked her hand through Brooke’s elbow and gave a little tug.
“Indeed,” Brooke said, her gaze locked on Drake’s, “it was nice to see you again, Your Grace.”
“I’d like to spend more time with you.” He gave a wide grin. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
“I shall look forward to your visit,” Brooke said.
Drake’s grin brightened. “Until then, my lady.” He placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles.
Brooke gave a slight curtsey before Narissa fairly dragged her down the street to their waiting carriage. She could scarcely believe she’d just come upon Drake—about knocked him off his feet and made a ninny of herself in the process.
Lord, what must he think?
Did it even signify?
She shook her head as she stepped into the carriage. Of course not. How could anything matter after all the years, all the time that had passed? It could not.
Whatever might have been between her and Drake was long behind them. Brooke released a breath as she smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt.
Narissa settled beside Brooke, and Hannah took the leather bench seat across from them.
No sooner did the carriage jerk into motion than Hannah turned a wide grin on Brooke. “Tell us everything?”
“About?” Brooke asked, doing her best to sound innocent.
She knew perfectly well what Hannah was inquiring about but could not help but tease her friend. Besides, she needed a moment to collect herself.
“The duke, of course.” Hannah leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Narissa angled her body toward Brooke. “I cannot recall you ever mentioning the Duke of Grafton before. How do you know him?”
Brooke loosened the ties of her bonnet, then removed it and placed it on her lap. “He wasn’t a duke when I knew him. It’s been ten years since I last saw Drake. Ahem,” she cleared her throat, “that is since I last saw His Grace.”
“You must have been close considering that you keep using his given name rather than his title,” Hannah said.
Brooke averted her gaze as she silently chastised herself. She would have to watch her tongue more closely. It simply wouldn’t do to run about calling a duke by anything other than his honorary address.
Narissa patted Brooke’s hand. “And the way he seemed to render you speechless lends itself to him being more than a passing acquaintance.”
“Nonsense,” Brooke rolled her eyes, “He is an old childhood friend. I haven’t seen him in ten years and never expected that I’d quite literally run into him on Bond Street.” She smiled as she relaxed against the carriage seat with feigned nonchalance. “I’m quite recovered now.”
“Very well,” Narissa said. “Though I might add that he seemed rather taken with you.”
“Shocked is more like it,” Brooke said. “I nearly knocked him to the ground.”
“I imagine so.” Hannah laughed.
Brooke turned her attention to the window and gazed out at the passing horses and carriages.
A small part of her wondered if Drake had come back for her, but after all this time, she doubted it. No, he was in London for something else entirely, and she’d do best to remember that.
Brooke had made a habit of searching for his name in the gossip columns, and on the rare occasions she heard someone speak of him, or his family, she paid close attention. If Drake wanted her, he would have found her sooner.
Nonetheless, Brooke was curious as to why he’d come to London. She’d be sure to discover his motivation when he came to call.
Her heart fluttered at the knowledge that she’d soon see Drake again. She sighed.
Traitorous organ. She’d have to be careful not to give herself over to fanciful ideas where he was concerned.
Chapter 2
Drake Kingston, Duke of Grafton, stared out a large floor to ceiling window in the Earl of Notting’s drawing room as he awaited Brooke.
He’d hoped to have an audience with Notting’s before spending time with his daughter but was informed that the earl was not in residence. It would seem that nothing had changed for Brooke in that regard.
Drake’s chest tightened at the memories of Brooke’s sorrow over the way her parents had ignored her all those years ago.
He’d thought that the earl and countess would have taken more of an interest in their daughter now that she was of marriageable age. Perhaps he should be pleased that they did not, for if they did, Brooke might already be married off.
He turned at the rustle of skirts and met Brooke’s bright blue gaze as she glided across the room. Drake grinned as he watched her move toward him in a pale blue gown, her blond hair piled on top of her head.
Brooke was a vision to be sure. She fairly took his breath away,
just as she had when they were younger.
He started toward her, reaching her in three long strides. Drake took her hand and bent over it to kiss the back of her glove covered knuckles. He lingered there a moment longer than was proper, but he could not help himself from doing so.
He’d waited years to see her again—to touch her and hear her voice. He had no wish to rush.
No, Drake wanted to savor his time with her. Drink her in and commit her to memory. Lord, how he’d missed her.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Brooke dipped a curtsey even though Drake still held her hand.
He released her and straightened. “My lady.”
Why the devil had she called him Your Grace? He’d always been Drake to her.
Even yesterday.
Drake pulled his gaze from her to search the room for their chaperone. Perhaps her mother had seen fit to accompany her, and Brooke was not at liberty to be informal under such scrutiny.
A maid stood in the far corner of the room. No-one else was present, and the parlor door had been closed behind them.
Surely Brooke did not care what a maid thought. Drake stared into her eyes, searching. “Are we to be formal now?”
Brooke’s cheeks tinted as she glanced across the room. “It may be for the best.”
“I disagree. Furthermore, I do not care for it. I’ve always been Drake to you.”
She smiled. “Very well then, Drake, you shall remain.”
The sound of his name on her lips sent a pleasant warmth through him, easing the tension that had been building. “Much better, Brooke.” He looked around the parlor double-checking its occupants before returning his gaze to her. “Am I to assume we are alone?”
“Very much so, with the exception of my maid.” Brooke’s smile faltered for a heartbeat before she masked her upset. “Father is in the country, and Mother is on the continent.”
“What of your brother?”
“One can only guess. Though it’s safe to say my brother is probably chasing one of his vices.” Brooke pressed her lips together as if to stop herself from saying more.
Remorse clutched at Drake’s heart. He should have come for her as he’d promised all those years ago. Nothing should have stood in his way, he shouldn’t have allowed it to. Not when he knew how Brooke’s family ignored and neglected her.
Drake had foolishly allowed himself to believe they had changed. He’d been an ass.
Drake proffered his arm, offering it to her. “Shall we take a walk?”
“I’d like that.” Brooke threaded her hand through the crook of his elbow.
Drake led her from the parlor and out into her family’s garden before speaking again. He turned her down a path lined with rose bushes, then asked, “Are they still your favorite?”
“No.” Brooke gave him an impish grin. “I prefer lavender these days.”
Drake wondered if their time in Cumbria had more than a little to do with her preference for the purple blossoms. That seemed a lifetime ago and yet he recalled it as though it were yesterday. He made a mental note to send her a bouquet.
“Though roses do smell lovely.” Brooke inhaled, her chest rising and falling with the effort.
Drake grinned. “Indeed, they do.”
A long silence stretched out between them as Drake led her down a new path. He slanted his gaze toward her, sneaking peeks at her as they strolled.
She had been a pretty girl, and he’d always imagined she’d be a lovely woman as well, but he could not have predicted the depth of her beauty. How was it that she remained unwed?
They approached an iron bench beneath a large oak tree. Drake nodded toward the shaded spot and smiled. “Shall we sit?”
Brooke nodded her reply, then released his elbow and moved to sit on the bench.
Drake followed, sitting beside her. He glanced up at the clear blue sky, before asking, “How have you faired since we last met?”
Brooke did not look at him as she said, “I’ve been well, and you?”
Drake wanted to hear more. He wished to know how she’d spent her time. Wanted to know what she enjoyed. Desired to know why she hadn’t married.
He slanted his gaze back to her. “Have you been happy?”
Brooke laughed, low and hollow. “What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one,” Drake said, then he slid closer, bringing his thigh against hers.
She turned to meet his gaze. “I enjoy my life.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Drake released a bated breath. “How do you spend your time?”
“If I tell you, you’ll think me scandalous.”
“I’ll think you interesting.” Drake winked. “I always have.”
Brooke seemed to relax, her hands coming to rest on her lap. “Very well, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m a bit of a hellion, or at least that is what most of society believes.”
“Do they?” Drake urged her to continue.
Brooke leaned a little closer as though she were about to tell him a secret. “I race horses and gamble more than a lady ought to.”
Drake chuckled, a wide grin stretching his lips. “I’d call you adventurous, not scandalous.”
“You have never seen me drink whisky or fence. If you did, you’d change your mind.”
“If I did, I’d be enthralled,” Drake countered.
He wasn’t at all surprised to hear of Brooke’s activities. She had been carefree and spirited in her youth as well.
Furthermore, he had listened to some gossip throughout the years, though he hadn’t believed all of it. Perhaps he should have?
Brooke smoothed her skirts before leaning back against the bench. “What of you? How have you faired these past ten years?”
The friction of her thigh against his caused his flesh to tingle. The fact that she’d been counting the years of his absence stole his voice. Had she longed for him? Was he to blame for her unmarried state?
“Drake?” Brooke arched one blond eyebrow.
He shook his head. “Sorry, I was thinking of where to start,” he lied. “I’ve been content, though not altogether happy. Father left me a great deal of work and debt when he passed away. Getting everything in order and managing the estate has taken most of my time since.”
“I’m sorry about your loss.” Brooke reached for Drake’s hand and gave a comforting squeeze.
He relished the heat passing between them as he stared into her warm eyes. “Don’t be. It was several years ago. I’ve done my mourning.”
“Five years is not so long.”
“How do you know how much time has passed?” Drake asked a little surprised that she knew when his dad had passed.
Her face flushed a becoming pink, and she grinned impishly. “I read about it in the paper.”
Drake chuckled. “I should have known.”
“Did you get to travel?” Brooke asked.
Drake recalled the plans he’d made with her and guilt once again consumed him. Still, he would not lie to her. “Father sent me on a tour of the continent after I finished school.”
She frowned, and he quickly added, “Though I have yet to see most of the places I’ve dreamed of.”
Brooke smiled, but it rang false. The corners of her mouth lifted but her eyes remained dull. “You have the rest of your life to do so,” she said.
“Indeed,” Drake replied. “It is my hope to have someone by my side when I do.”
Brooke turned curious blue eyes on him. “Is that why you’ve come to London? To seek a wife?”
Drake squeezed her hand. “Indeed, I find myself very much in want of a duchess.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place.” Brooke pulled her hand from his. “London is full of husband-hunting mama’s and well-bred debutantes.”
It was as if she’d shoved him into an icy pond with her reaction. Drake had not come to London for a debutante. He’d come for Brooke. Hoping against hope that she remained unwed and would have him.
He
’d would have her.
Somehow, someway, he’d atone for the past and win her heart.
Chapter 3
The ballroom glittered with candlelight. Ornate floral arrangements and potted ferns decorated the surrounding walls. Brooke glanced across the room at the crush of lords and ladies in their silks and satins and smiled. Narissa had outdone herself tonight. She’d surely be the talk of the ton tomorrow.
Unfortunately, all of the people crowding the ballroom made it stifling. Brooke flipped open her fan to cool herself and turned to Hannah as another arrival was announced. “It seems Narissa left no one out.”
“Indeed.” Hannah turned her head toward the grand staircase leading down to the ballroom. “I cannot imagine who will arrive next.”
“I should be ashamed of what I am about to say, but I’m not.” Brooke continued waving her fan as she continued. “I couldn’t care less whose here. I’d much prefer to be at Fortuna’s.”
Hannah turned to Brooke, her gaze thoughtful. “Scotch does sound delightful.”
“I was thinking of a game of whist. Though I’d not refuse a stiff drink,” Brooke said.
Hannah nodded toward the hallway. “Let us go find one.”
“I should have thought of it myself.” Brooke started winding her way toward the door, through potted plants and groups of chatting ladies.
When she stepped from the crowded room into the empty hallway, she released a relaxing breath. “Much better.”
Hannah laughed. “Not as good as the scotch will be.”
Brooke joined her in laughter as they strode down the hall toward Narissa’s private parlor. A pity Narissa could not join them, but Brooke knew she would not mind them sharing a drink without her.
She strolled beside Hannah down the long hall then stepped into the red parlor and closed the door behind them.
When Brooke turned toward the sideboard, Hannah was already pouring their drinks. She lifted the tumblers and carried them over to Brooke before holding one out to her.
Brooke took a sip of her scotch, then sighed as the liquor washed through her, warming her insides. She moved to stand near the window, staring out at the shadow clad garden below.