A Deal with a Duke (The Daring Drake Sisters, #2)

by Christie Kelley

  He couldn’t deny that, so he remained silent. “Then how did you discover I was here? Jenkins would never have told you.”

  “No, he would not speak of it.” She smiled against his chest. “At least not directly. I might have been told that it was a good day to go to Hell.”

  He stiffened. “You should not have gone there, much less alone.”

  “Emma came with me. Your brother was quite lovely, Harry. He lent me his carriage.”

  Harry tilted his head back and stared at the white ceiling. “Simon should have told you to return to your home.”

  “If he did, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  As if to emphasize her point, she rubbed her back against his shaft, which immediately started to harden. “Not fair, love.”

  She turned around to face him and then smiled flirtatiously at him. “You are rather insatiable, are you not?”

  “Around you, yes.” He kissed her loving how quickly she responded to him. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

  “You can be that later and show me the house. Right now, I want a scoundrel.”

  “As you wish, Miss Drake.”

  Chapter 22

  THEY FINALLY ROSE FROM their bed in the early afternoon. Louisa didn’t want to consider what the servants must think of them. After a lovely dinner, Harry gave her a tour of the enormous home. Louisa figured that about twenty of her mother’s home could fit inside this grand manor. They walked into the family salon, and Louisa was struck by the extravagance of the room. Gilt chairs, gilt frames, even a gilt family crest on the fireplace.

  “It’s very...very...”

  “Indulgent?” he replied with a slight scowl.

  “You don’t like this place much, do you?” They continued down the hall to the music room, which was double the size of her mother’s salon.

  “No. This was my father’s favorite home, mostly because it was the ducal estate. But I much prefer the intimacy of Northwood Park.”

  She nodded. “I agree. Northwood is smaller and feels more like a home and not a grand palace.”

  He smiled down at her. “True, but I do believe there is one room you will love here.”

  “The library! I remember you telling me about it years ago. Show me!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He led her down the long marble corridor lined with large portraits of former dukes and duchesses.

  She noticed one portrait and stopped. “Wait,” she said, pointing to the picture. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, when I was twenty. A year or two before we first met.”

  Louisa studied the portrait. Harry appeared quite a bit younger, even though only ten years had passed. Now, he had a maturity that made him look far more handsome than in his youth. The painting showed the rascal he’d been and not the gentleman he had become. “You look every bit the rake I know you were for a few years.”

  “If you remember, I was in my rakish days when I met you.”

  “True, but I don’t remember hearing much about that after we met.”

  Harry looked away, knowing she was the reason for the change in his behavior. She had disapproved of his rakish manner. After meeting her, he had settled down until that awful night in India. “Come along. I want to show you the library.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He’d forgotten about describing the library to her, and now he couldn’t wait for her to see it. They approached the heavy door, but he stopped her from entering the room. “Close your eyes.”

  “Harry!”

  “Close them, or I won’t show you the room.”

  She muttered a low curse at him. “Very well.”

  He swung the door open and led her into the room.

  “I smell leather,” she said in a giddy voice. “Can I open my eyes now?”

  “Yes.”

  He watched her blue eyes widen in awe as she looked around the room. The library consisted of two floors with books stacked from floor to ceiling. A circular staircase led up to the second level with just as many books.

  “Oh my,” she whispered. “How does anyone keep this organized?”

  “A few years ago, my father hired a man to catalog and organize every book. There are over five thousand books in this room—subjects ranging from Architecture to Zoology and hundreds of works of fiction and estate journals. I have not added to the collection yet. But I believe it may be time to start.”

  “No one would be able to read all these books.” She walked up to one of the shelves and skimmed a finger down the leather binding. “This is simply amazing.”

  He sat down on a leather sofa and just watched as she pulled a book out to examine it.

  “This is one book on gardening,” she said, turning toward him and then pointed to a row of books. “There is an entire row on gardening.”

  “Well, the gardens here could use some assistance if you would like to read up on it. I never felt the gardens truly represented the house well.”

  She giggled as she picked up a book. “As duke, you should have a maze.”

  “Hmm, I like that idea. Read up on it then design one,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Just make sure there is a beautiful statue in the center of the maze for people to find. Something Greek perhaps. And a nice long bench so that when I finally find you there, I can make love to you for hours with no one able to interrupt us.”

  She looked over at him and blushed. “That is too audacious by far. Making love in the out of doors.”

  Harry laughed. “Oh, I shall show you how daring it is, love. On a nice warm day with the sun on your bare skin. I have a feeling you will enjoy yourself immensely.”

  She shook her head and returned her gaze to the books. “First you need to build the maze, Harry.”

  “Well, you’d better find a book on mazes over there because I just gave you that task.”

  “I think I found one,” she replied as she pulled a book from the shelf. “Oh my, Harry, look at this! There are sketches in here that someone did years ago.” She sat down next to him and opened the book on her lap.

  He took the sketches and nodded. “These are quite good, if I say so myself.”

  What?

  “Father insisted I learn to sketch as part of my proper education. I had no desire to sketch fruit, so I asked my teacher if we could do architecture or gardens. Mr. Reynolds decided gardens were a more appropriate subject than houses.” He had forgotten about the design for the maze until she brought it over to him.

  “Why didn’t your father have the maze built?”

  “He didn’t think it worthy of the ducal manor. He told me that when I inherited Northwood Park, I could put a maze in there.”

  She stared down at the design and traced her fingers through the pattern. “It is most difficult, which I believe would only add to the enjoyment. Think how much fun Charlotte would have trying to find the center. You might lose her in there for hours.”

  “Well, that might tire the girl out. I suppose I shall have to build it now.” He clasped her hand in his and squeezed. “Thank you for finding this, Louisa.”

  She looked up at him with love in her eyes, and he was lost. He had to tell her how he felt about her. That he could not imagine his life without her in it. “Louisa—”

  A sharp rap on the door interrupted him. “Your Grace, I have a letter for Miss Drake. It came express.”

  “Express,” Louisa whispered with a frown.

  “Bring it in.” Harry squeezed her hand tighter. “Who knows you are even here?”

  “Only Emma.”

  The footman brought in the missive as he felt her tremble under his hand. Harry grabbed the letter and handed it to her.

  “Would you like me to leave you alone while you read it?” Harry asked as she broke the seal.

  “No, please stay. It is from Emma. I do hope no one is ill. Or Tessa had an issue with the baby.” She stared down at the unopened letter.

  “You will worry yourself to death until you read it.”

&nb
sp; LOUISA NODDED, KNOWING he was right, but nothing good ever came express. Her hands shook as she slowly opened the letter.

  Dear Louisa,

  I do hope you will not mind that I opened the enclosed letter. I feared Mamma would attempt to read it and discover something untoward. I have no idea who sent it as the boy was a messenger and refused to inform Davis who had paid him.

  I am dreadfully sorry.

  Your dearest sister,

  Emma

  Louisa frowned wondering who had sent the second letter.

  “What is it?”

  “I am not certain. Some messenger boy delivered this without stating who had sent it.” She opened the second letter and looked to the bottom for a signature, but there was none.

  Miss Drake,

  I only send this letter to you because I believe you deserve to know the truth about the gentlemen in your life. Lord Collingwood has proposed to you strictly because he is being paid to marry you. Whilst you may have heard he is having financial difficulties, I doubt he told you the full truth of the matter, as he did me.

  Some people say he has four thousand a year, but in truth, he has less than half that amount. The income does nothing to resolve his remaining debts.

  He informed me that someone was paying him five thousand to marry you. Regretfully, he did not disclose the name of the person. Although, I am quite certain you must already know the likely candidate.

  I do apologize for causing you any distress.

  Louisa stared at the paper, unable to comprehend what it all meant. Slowly, she pulled her hand out of his grip. Who had done this to her? There was only one man she knew with the means to make such a payment. But why? Why would Harry pay Collingwood?

  But who else could it be?

  While she knew Harry had asked Collingwood to dance with her the night of Lady Leicester’s ball, she had never imagined Harry had played any other part in the matter. He had been the one to push Collingwood at her, telling her he was a good man for her. Anger flooded her as she concluded there was no one else who could have done such a thing.

  “What is wrong? Is someone ill?” he asked.

  She rose and then turned back to face him. “Did you do this?” she asked, waving the paper at him.

  He tilted his head and stared at her with a scowl. “Do what?”

  “Pay Collingwood to marry me,” she cried.

  He rose and looked down at her as anger darkened his face. “I never paid Collingwood to marry you. To my knowledge, he hasn’t even screwed up the courage to propose.”

  “Well, he has,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “When?”

  “Five days ago. The afternoon of your sister’s party.” Louisa’s heart pounded as her anger took over her entire body. Her hands shook as she stared at his gray eyes. But there was something else in his face too. She had noticed it the moment he denied paying Collingwood.

  Guilt.

  “A man proposes to you, and then you run to another man’s bed?”

  “I ran to you, Harry. The man I thought was my dearest friend. The man I thought I...”

  “Though you what?”

  She was not about to tell him that she loved him right now. “I thought I could talk to about anything. But if you didn’t pay Collingwood, why do you look so guilty? What did you do, Harry?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, turning away from her.

  “I know you better than that. What did you do?”

  He turned back around and faced her. “I told Ainsley to stay away from you.”

  “You did more than that, didn’t you?”

  “I offered him five thousand to stop courting you.”

  She covered her hand over her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.

  “Don’t you dare look at me like that,” he shouted. “This was all your idea. You wanted to marry and foolishly thought I should marry too.”

  She heard the commotion of footsteps coming down the hall but could not stop her tirade. “Of course, it all makes sense now. I wasn’t good enough for you or your friend. The only thing I was good enough to be was your mistress.”

  “That’s not true, Louisa. I never said you weren’t good enough for me! Christ, Louisa, I—”

  The door hurled opened as a footman stared at them both. “I apologize, Your Grace.”

  “Get out!” Harry yelled.

  “Your Grace, Mr. Smith’s house is ablaze! It’s very bad.”

  “Dammit!” He looked at her with anger, still burning in his eyes. “We will finish this when I return.”

  She refused even to acknowledge his command as her heart shattered into a million pieces. As he strode out the door, she knew that she would not be here when he returned. How could she stay? Her heart was broken. He’d betrayed her in mind and spirit. She found the young footman.

  “Have my carriage readied.”

  “Miss?”

  “I am returning to London. I need my carriage.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Louisa wiped the tears off her cheeks and then ran upstairs to gather her things. As she packed, the housekeeper entered the room.

  “Miss Drake, do you think this is wise?”

  “Mrs. White, nothing I do is wise, but this was the most foolish thing I have ever done. I thought he loved me.”

  “Come along, let me pack your things.” The housekeeper shooed her away from the bed. “You are not the first lady to make a fool of herself over a man.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Give the man time. I have known the duke since he was a toddler racing through this house. He is a very good man...better than his father, if you ask me.”

  “I would have to agree with you on that,” she admitted, not knowing if the housekeeper had heard the entire truth about the late duke. “But I must return to town. My mother will worry.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. White picked up the valise. “Come along. The carriage should be ready momentarily. I will have Cook prepare some food for the trip.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. White, but I couldn’t eat anything.”

  As they reached the hall, Mrs. White said, “I do hope I shall see you again, Miss Drake. I believe you might be just what the young duke needs.”

  “It is highly unlikely now but thank you.” Louisa walked out to the waiting carriage and then cried herself back to London.

  HARRY DOUSED THE SMOLDERING timbers with one more bucket of water. The tenants and several servants from the house had all helped to put out the fire, but the stubborn blaze had destroyed the home and left Mrs. Smith with burns on her legs. The physician had done what he could to help her before leaving her in the capable hands of Mrs. Hill, who assisted the tenants with some minor healing.

  “I think that is about it, Your Grace,” Mr. Hill commented as he stared at the destruction.

  “Yes,” he replied, wiping a sooty hand across his weary brow. “I will look in on Mrs. Smith before I head back. Tomorrow I will have Mr. Fernwood stop by and get things started on rebuilding. There is still an empty home on the south side of the estate where the Smiths can stay until their house is rebuilt. Please make sure if they need anything to put it on my account in the village.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will be sure to tell them. I can’t tell you how glad we were to see you here.” Hill looked down at the ground. “Many lords of your station wouldn’t have cared.”

  “You’re my tenants, Mr. Hill. My responsibility. I apologize for not being here more.”

  “Sir, we all knew you were in mourning. Mr. Fernwood is a good man and kept everything in order.”

  “Goodnight, then.” Harry sighed as he walked back to the estate. Guilt slid over him. Leaving the estate with only Mr. Fernwood for two years had been irresponsible. A duke had responsibilities, and he had neglected his far too long. He was bone tired and wanted nothing but a bath and bed, but knowing Louisa, she would be waiting for him to finish their row.

  As he reached the house, the front
door opened, and a footman greeted him. “Good evening, Your Grace. We’ve had bath water heating for you. I will get the lads to bring it up now.”

  “Thank you.”

  He dragged himself up to his bedchamber and warily opened the door, expecting to see Louisa. Finding the room empty, he prayed she was pouting in her room for now. He needed time to bathe and rest before facing her. The door was open to the bathing room, and he could hear the footmen filling the copper tub.

  He removed his filthy clothes and then sank into the half-full tub. The footmen continued to fill it as he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let his muscles relax.

  “Send up a tray of sandwiches,” he requested.

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  “Did Miss Drake eat supper?” When no one answered, he opened his eyes to find the two footmen giving each other strange looks. “What is wrong?”

  “Miss Drake departed for London not long after you left to assist with the fire, Your Grace.”

  “Dammit!” He’d told her they would finish their argument when he returned. How could she be that upset over their quarrel? She had to know he loved her.

  But he hadn’t told her, had he?

  Dammit!

  “That’s enough water, boys. Pack a bag for me.”

  “Are you leaving tonight, sir?”

  Harry released a long sigh. He’d most likely fall off his horse if he tried to ride tonight. “No, at first light.”

  That would get him there by noon. He’d pay a call on Louisa to finish their discussion and make sure she understood that no matter the scandal, no matter the talk, no matter what, she would be his wife within a fortnight.

  But what if she refused?

  She could not. There was a chance she might be carrying his child right now. She would have no choice but to marry him. Not that he wanted her to feel forced into marriage, he wanted her willing, knowing how much he loved her.

  Why hadn’t he told her last night?

  Because he was a fool, no doubt about it. Instead of telling her how much he loved her, he’d foolishly spoken about his first wife. He was an idiot. But he would fix everything tomorrow, assuming she didn’t do anything impulsive like accept Collingwood.