At The Duke's Pleasure Page 5

  Mutely, he bit into a biscuit.

  Meanwhile, Lady Edgewater poured and served cups of tea, her hands shaking visibly while she did so.

  “I suppose I’m not to tell you about my predilection for gardening either, Your Grace,” Claire announced several moments later. “I just love digging in the dirt. Burying bulbs and planting tubers. Why, sometimes my sisters tease me that I grub around just like a little mole.”

  He stopped chewing, a long moment passing before he was able to safely swallow the last bite of biscuit in his mouth. Thankfully, he’d already set his tea aside. Otherwise he feared he would have inadvertently given himself a rather nasty burn.

  “You do not grub around like a mole, Claire Marsden!” Lady Edgewater asserted. “You can’t stand dirt of any kind and I do not know why you are saying these things today.” With a mortified expression on her face, she turned toward him. “Your Grace, I apologize.”

  He studied his fiancée, trying to decipher her mood and behaviour. Something wasn’t right. Of course he didn’t really know her all that well, and yet…Did she really make tallow candles with the servants and toil in the garden like some common labourer? Or did she only want him to think that she did? And if so, to what end?

  “No apologies needed, ma’am,” he told the countess. “Many young ladies are lured by the beauties of nature and the opportunity to coax plants and flowers from the soil. There is no indignity in tilling the earth. Actually, many would say there is no finer means of expressing the majesty of the Almighty’s plan than growing life from His bounty.”

  Across from him, Claire sank her teeth into a small cake.

  “Braebourne has extensive gardens and grounds. Once Lady Claire is installed there as its duchess, she will have leave to do as much gardening as she likes. In fact, now that I know how much she loves to grow things, I shall make a point of having a special plot laid aside where she can dig and till to her heart’s content.”

  He saw a small frown settle between Claire’s golden brows.

  “I’ll inform the gardening staff that no one is to touch the land but you, Lady Claire,” he continued. “Why, in no time at all, I am sure you’ll have it looking so beautiful it will be fit to rival the work of the great Capability Brown himself. So, how many plants do you imagine you will be wanting? Five hundred or a thousand?”

  Claire sputtered, then swallowed in a hard gulp, her wide-eyed gaze flying across to meet his own. Drawing in an audible breath, she quickly recovered her equilibrium. “My abilities are nothing so grand. I’m more of a…dabbler in the garden, you see. I p-putter around here and there, but there is nothing serious in my endeavours.”

  “Ah. Well then,” he said, “perhaps I have gotten ahead of myself on the subject.”

  “Yes, perhaps,” she agreed, her eyes sweeping downward in obvious relief.

  Not so enthusiastic now, is she?

  “As for the tallowing,” he continued in a falsely serious tone, “I employ a chandler who makes all the candles for the estate. I prefer to use beeswax tapers in the main house, of course, but maybe you could stop by on occasion to offer him a tip or two.”

  Her shoulders straightened, her delicate chin lifting in clear awareness of his underlying sarcasm. “I shall make a point of it, Your Grace.”

  She set her plate aside with a little thunk.

  Lowering his head, he hid a smile.

  A clatter of feet sounded in the hallway moments before Claire’s younger sister Nan came rushing into the room. Skidding to a halt, she dipped a quick curtsey in his direction, then turned to her mother.

  “Mama, I know you told us to stay upstairs, but something has occurred and you must come at once.”

  “What is it, child? Why are you not in the schoolroom with Miss Sampson?”

  “I was, but Nipper got in and he went after Puff. Miss Sampson tried to intervene, but she ended up getting scratched and bitten. She’s bleeding, and meanwhile Nipper has poor Puff cornered on top of one of the bookshelves. I thought I should come find you.”

  Lady Edgewater closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Saints preserve me, what a day,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I’ll go, Mama,” Claire offered, jumping to her feet.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort. Stay with His Grace. I shall be back in a trice.” Sending him a patently false smile, the countess sailed from the room, her youngest daughter hurrying in her wake.

  Claire hesitated for several seconds more, then resumed her seat.

  “Dog and cat skirmish, I presume?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Nipper is a very naughty dog and Puff is terrified of him, which is why Nipper is not allowed in the schoolroom. Between the two of them, it seems they’re always causing some mischief or other.” She paused, a fresh glint entering her eyes. “Do you like animals, Your Grace?”

  “Edward,” he said, correcting her. “And yes, very much. I have a pack of hounds I keep at Braebourne and a couple of dogs who have the run of the house, both in Town and in the country. My youngest sister keeps cats and a flock of other assorted creatures on the estate as well. There are far too many to count.”

  The glint receded, almost as though she was disappointed to discover he liked pets. What is her game? he wondered. It was almost as though she was deliberately trying to put him off. Well, if that was her goal, she would soon learn that he wasn’t deterred so easily.

  Rebellious child.

  Little did she know he had lots and lots of experience dealing with rebellious children. As the eldest of eight, he was long used to antics of all sorts. Although he had to admit she was inventive. And surprisingly amusing as well, he decided as he gazed again at her appalling attire and straggling hair. Once they were married, though, she would mature and put aside such foolish behaviour. A subject that reminded him of the main purpose for his visit.

  “Actually,” he said, “I’m rather glad your mother had reason to leave us, since I was hoping we might have an opportunity to spend a few minutes alone.”

  Claire grew still. “Oh? Why?”

  He quirked a brow, resisting the urge to smile at her candour. “So I can give you this. Somehow, I thought you might prefer not having an audience.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he drew out a small square box, then popped open the lid to reveal a glittering diamond. “Your engagement ring,” he announced.

  She didn’t say a word.

  “Here, why don’t you try it on to see if it fits.” Removing the ring from its velvet bed, he held the jewellery between his thumb and forefinger and waited.

  She didn’t move.

  “It’s not going to bite, you know,” he said with a half-exasperated chuckle.

  She sent him a faintly mocking look before slowly extending her right hand.

  He grinned. “Other one. An engagement ring is supposed to go on the left. Tradition holds that the veins in the left hand connect directly to the heart.”

  Her hand trembled slightly. “Then it seems I chose correctly the first time,” she murmured, “since this arrangement between us has nothing to do with hearts.”

  His smile fell away. “Perhaps not,” he said as he slid the ring into place. “But I am convinced we shall fare well together regardless.”

  “As you say, Your Grace.”

  “Edward.” He gazed into her lovely, clear eyes for a few moments before taking in the whole of her face. “You’ve a smudge.”

  “What?”

  “On your cheek. Here, let me help.”

  “I can get it,” she stated, reaching up to rub her fingers across her skin.

  “Other cheek,” he said, as his smile returned. “Please, allow me.” Extracting a handkerchief from his pocket, he stroked the silk across her skin.

  “Is it gone?” she asked in a tremulous voice.

  “Almost.” He rubbed in gentle circles until he’d lifted the mark free. “There.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Edward,” he corrected in a pat
ient tone. “Your hair needs arranging as well.”

  “My maid can help me.”

  “Your maid isn’t here.” Without waiting for permission, he captured the errant tress in his hand. Rather than tucking it into her coiffure, he looped it around his fingers, winding the deliciously soft strand around and around until there was no more hair left to wind. He let it go, watching it unfurl like a sail. But instead of retrieving it again, he stepped closer and cupped his palm against the side of her face. “I just realized there is something important I have yet to do.”

  “Wh-What is that, Your…Edward?” she whispered, her gaze locking with his own.

  “This,” he said.

  And then he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  Claire couldn’t move, her breath trapped inside her lungs, her heart slamming so hard in her chest her ribs ached.

  She’d waited so long for this moment, her whole life it seemed, to taste her very first kiss. Once, long ago, she’d hoped Edward would be the one to give her that kiss. And then she’d hoped he wouldn’t. But now, dangerous as it might be, that original wish was coming true.

  She knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t, the sensation of his mouth too glorious to resist. His touch was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. Warm and firm, yet shockingly soft, as his lips moved over hers.

  Patient. Infinitely patient.

  And sweetly tender as well.

  A shivery sigh rippled through her body, making her tingle from head to foot. Her toes arched inside her half boots as she sank deeper beneath his spell, heady delight roaring in her head like a misty, drumming rain.

  One touch and he made her melt.

  One kiss and the earth ceased to turn on its axis. Just think what might happen if he dared to do more.

  And then he did, drawing the velvety tip of his tongue in a slow, hot glide across her lower lip. She gasped, the sound as startling as a clap of thunder in her ears.

  He lifted his head, an expression of bemusement in his dark blue eyes. Seconds passed, as though he were trying to decide whether to kiss her again or let her go.

  Then the decision was taken away, as footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the drawing room. Edward straightened and stepped away. “I believe your mother may be returning.”

  Claire stared blindly, first at him, then down at the carpet, as she struggled to shake off the pleasurable lethargy still humming through her veins. Clenching her fists at her sides, she turned and dropped into the safety of her earlier abandoned chair.

  “The crisis has been resolved,” her mother declared as she moved into the room. “So, how have you two been faring in my absence?” she inquired, glancing between Claire and Edward.

  “Quite well, ma’am,” he replied in a smooth tone. “We have managed to keep each other reasonably entertained, I believe. Is that not so, Lady Claire?”

  Claire fought down a blush, resisting the urge to shoot him an accusing glare as well.

  He’s so calm, she thought. How can he act as though we’ve been sitting here doing nothing more strenuous than talking about the weather?

  And then she realized that even though she’d just experienced the wonder of her very first kiss, their embrace had been far from the first for him. How many women had he known in his three-and-thirty years? How many kisses had he shared?

  Hundreds?

  Thousands?

  Millions!

  The last of her hazy delight fell away. She might be his fiancée and now wear his ring on her hand, but nothing essential had changed between them. She was still a convenience needed to secure his lineage. And he was still the man she couldn’t afford to let herself love.

  “Yes,” she said in a clear voice. “His Grace has made sure I was far from bored. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I shall seek my room for a change of attire.”

  “Good heavens, yes, child,” her mother said. “Go change. We shall be waiting for your return. Your Grace, can you stay to dinner?”

  “That sounds delightful. However, I’m afraid I must beg your indulgence once again. I just received a note from my mother and she asks that I return to Braebourne immediately. I leave at first light. My sister-in-law, Meg, is about to be brought to childbed any day and Mama wants me there for the birth.”

  “Every pardon, Your Grace,” the countess said, “but what possible help can you be to your sister-in-law at such a time?”

  “None whatsoever,” he replied in an agreeable tone. “It’s my brother who is in need of support. I’m to make sure he survives the ordeal.”

  The countess chuckled.

  Claire said nothing, wondering at these other members of his family and realizing that she was going to have to become acquainted with them, after all. Today’s plan to extricate herself from the engagement had failed dismally; she had this blighted ring on her finger to prove it. Like it or not, she was going to have to think of something else, a new strategy designed to convince Edward Byron that he didn’t want her for a wife. But it seemed her plans would have to wait for now.

  “Shall we see you next in Town then?” Claire ventured.

  He turned her way. “Yes, I rather suspect that will be the case, since I am doubtful I shall be able to make the journey here again before you join us for the Season.”

  “Well then, London it shall be.”

  Reaching for her hand, he made her a bow. “Yes. London it is.”

  Chapter 4

  “Welcome to Clybourne House!” greeted a musical feminine voice, as Claire and her mother stepped into the duke’s elegantly appointed drawing room six weeks later.

  A smile came instantly to Claire’s face, as she found herself unable to do anything but return the infectious grin on the mouth of the beautiful, raven-haired young woman who had issued the greeting. Based on the other girl’s resemblance to the duke, Claire could only surmise that she must be one of Edward’s sisters—and obviously the one who was out, since his youngest sister was still a child.

  “Lady Mallory?” Claire inquired.

  “Yes! And you must be Lady Claire and Lady Edgewater. What a pleasure it is having both of you here, especially since Mama is away at present. My sister-in-law is confined, you see, and Mama has gone to attend the birth. The baby is due any day now.”

  The countess frowned. “I thought your sister-in-law had the child last month? A boy, I believe?”

  “Oh, that is my other sister, Meg. Yes, she did have her baby and she’s doing splendidly. We’re hoping she’ll bring little Maximillian for a visit this summer so we can see just how adorable he is. My sister Grace is the one due to give birth any time now.”

  “Heavens,” Lady Edgewater said. “Two births in two months. No wonder your mama has her hands full.”

  Mallory laughed. “Leave it up to Cade and Jack to have such impossible timing. First the hasty weddings, and now the babies one right after the other!”

  Claire watched her mother’s eyes widen at that statement and its potentially shocking implications. But Lady Mallory seemed to find nothing at all amiss in the remark, her smile just as bright as before.

  “Oh, but forgive me for keeping you standing here,” Mallory said. “I am sure you are weary from your journey and longing to relax and refresh yourselves. Let me show you upstairs to your rooms.”

  Moving out into the hall, Mallory led them across the wide marble-tiled entrance hall to the staircase. “I must say it will be lovely having ladies in residence again,” she stated. “With Mama away and Esme traveling with her, it’s just me and my brothers. Or at least a few of my brothers—the twins, Leo and Lawrence, and Drake when he feels like dropping by for a visit. Oh, and Ned, of course.”

  Ned?

  She must mean Edward, Claire realized, not aware until now that he went by a diminutive. Privately she thought of him as Edward. She didn’t imagine she would ever be able to get used to anything else. Then again, if the name annoyed him, perhaps she could make an exception.

&nb
sp; Hiding a little smile at the thought, she trailed after Mallory. Reaching the landing, they turned and walked along a broad, well-appointed hallway.

  “I take it His Grace is not home at present?” Lady Edgewater asked.

  Mallory shook her head. “He had business across Town, but should return in time for dinner. Gracious, he asked me to convey his regrets at not being here to greet you. I should have done so immediately, but quite obviously I forgot. What a goose you must think me,” she finished with a self-deprecating laugh.

  Claire shared a smile.

  “Here we are, Countess,” Mallory announced a few moments later. “You are to have the blue room. I trust you will be comfortable, but should there be anything you need, you have only to say.”

  Claire peered into the room, then blinked at the beautiful furnishings, the elegant draperies and wall coverings done in soothing shades of cream and blue. She could tell without asking that her mother was delighted and doing her best not to reveal her pleasure at the luxurious accommodations.

  “This shall do nicely,” her mother said, strolling inside the room.

  Leaving the countess to the ministration of her maid, Mallory took Claire down another one of the corridors. As they walked, Claire couldn’t help but notice that every inch of the town house conveyed a sense of taste and refinement. From the fine oil paintings on the walls, the Aubusson carpets on the gleaming wood floors, to the clean scents of fresh flowers and beeswax polish, no detail was left unattended. Although Claire had been raised in an atmosphere of wealth and privilege, she had never known anything quite as grand as this. And if Edward’s town house was so exquisite, what must Braebourne be like?

  Then again, if my plan succeeds, she mused, I suppose I shall never find out.

  “I really am so very pleased to meet you,” Mallory said, as they strolled onward. “I wish I could say that Edward has told me everything about you, but I’m afraid he has said very little.”

  “That sounds like His Grace.”