My Dark Duke (11 page)

He regarded her intently, and there was a tension about him that had previously been absent. ‘You were with me last night. Surely you cannot doubt the effect you have on me. You are an innocent, my lady, and the more time I spend with you, the less control I have over myself. Do you understand what I am saying?'

Mutely, she nodded, although she wasn't sure she completely understood.

‘Good. Now, when are you visiting your aunt?' His countenance was again set in its normal enigmatic expression, albeit there was a smile playing ever so faintly about his mouth.

‘My aunt is expecting us in three days.'

Trent nodded. ‘If you will permit me, I should like to call upon you there.'

Her heart leapt. ‘Of course, Your Grace, if that pleases you.'

‘Good.' He smiled. ‘I pray you have forgiven me for not returning to the ball yesterday evening.'

‘It's fine. I was merely concerned when you didn't return. But Dr Cole assured me he would ascertain that you were well.'

‘It proved more difficult than I had anticipated regaining my composure.' His tone was rueful and Alethea blushed. She was more than a little pleased that he appeared to be as affected by her as she was by him. She tried to tell herself that he was not in love with her, that he was merely physically attracted to her, but her heart stubbornly refused to listen.

‘Perhaps it would be best if I kept all articles of clothing to myself from this moment on,' she couldn't help saying, smiling at him.

He chuckled. ‘I agree that would be a most sensible course of action, my lady. Now, tell me, did anything of note happen at the ball after I left?'

She took his hint and, smiling broadly, began to regale him with how the duchess's pug had somehow escaped from its minder and caused chaos as it ran through the guests, occasionally hiding playfully in a lady's petticoats. A number of ladies had actually fainted at the sight. If his smiles were anything to go by, the duke appeared to be entertained by her tale.

The rest of the ride passed quickly, and before she knew it, they were standing before her front door.

‘Thank you for your company, Lady Alethea. It was most delightful,' said Trent, bowing. ‘I believe the next time we meet will be in Bath.'

Alethea curtsied, favouring him with a wide smile. ‘Yes, I look forward to your company at that time, Your Grace.'

As the duke's carriage pulled away, she braced herself for the salvo of questions that her mother was about to throw at her. She couldn't help wondering, though, what adventures awaited her in Bath. Because it seemed that whenever she was in the duke's company, anything was possible.

James leaned back on the seat of the landau, aware that he had been smiling for most of the way back to his town house. The lady was able to lighten his mood with her mere presence. And her smile. God, her smile. It was like a drug he could not get enough of. He was starting to understand how the poor souls who were addicted to laudanum felt. It was pathetic, really. Here he was, a grown man, a duke, for God's sake, acting like a love-struck lad of sixteen rhapsodising about his sweetheart. Any moment now he might suddenly start spouting sonnets about her fine eyes and those luscious lips, which drove him to distraction each time he gazed upon her face.

The pleasant thoughts which occupied his mind were abruptly brought to a halt when his butler handed him a note upon his return. It was from Beth, asking that he call upon her. Sighing, James ordered the landau to be brought back so that he could go to her lodgings as she requested.

He arrived to find her in the drawing room, awaiting him, it seemed. Dressed in a lavender gown, she was at her most gracious, inviting him to join her for tea. James refused and remained standing. It was best that he got this visit over with as soon as possible. He did not prevaricate. ‘I presume you have invited me here in order to change my mind about ending our arrangement?'

While he looked on with impatience, she took a sip of her tea, then placed her teacup and saucer on the table before her. ‘Is there anything at all I can say that would change your mind, Your Grace?' Her eyes were pleading as she looked up at him.

‘I'm afraid not.' Feeling uncomfortable, he turned away from her and walked over to the window. This was the reason he had sought to break things off in writing. ‘I will give you a generous settlement. Enough to enable you to live without a protector for a year, two if you are frugal.'

‘Your Grace, but why? I thought you enjoyed my company and this arrangement. I know I can still please you if you'll just give me another chance.' Her gown rustled, and then she was clutching his hand, forcing him to look at her. ‘Please, won't you reconsider?' There were tears in her eyes but he was unmoved. He knew that it was not his company that she was going to miss, but his coin.

‘Your charm is legendary, Beth; I'm certain you will be able to find another protector soon.' Having said all he wished to say, he turned to go, but stopped short at her next utterance.

‘It's her, isn't it?' Her voice rose. ‘Alton's daughter. I saw you with her in Hyde Park. You're breaking off with me because of
her.
' The last word may as well have been a curse; Beth's tone was vicious and filled with venom.

‘Watch your tongue, Beth.' His tone was sharp. ‘And no, this has nothing to do with anyone else. I have merely decided that the time has come.'

She glared at him. ‘I don't believe you. You were perfectly content with our arrangement until you met her. She's bewitched you. How, I do not know. She knows nothing about pleasing a man and . . . and she is on the shelf, do you not realise that? My friend Maria knows Lord Bell, whose offer she refused three years ago. She has told me everything he knows about your prospective bride. I was told that no-one has made an offer for her in two years. Why, I would be surprised if she is even capable of bearing you an heir.'

If James had harboured any reservations in ending their arrangement, he no longer did. His voice was deathly quiet when he spoke. ‘Enough. Lady Alethea is none of your concern. You will leave her out of this.'

Beth suddenly noticed the warning in his voice. ‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace. Please forgive me. What I mean to say is that even if she becomes your wife, there is no need for you to stop being my protector. She doesn't need to know.' Her tone was now soft and persuasive. She stepped up to him and ran her hands slowly up his chest. ‘I know that you enjoy my attentions. Your wife, whoever she may be, will never be able to satisfy you as I do.'

Trent had had enough. He removed her hands and stepped back, out of her reach. ‘This conversation is over. My man of affairs will visit you in the next few days to settle a sum upon you. Farewell, Beth. I wish you the best of luck.' He didn't flinch when a teacup smashed into the door frame precariously close to his head as he walked out.

We Meet our Heroine's Brother

‘Oh, thank goodness!' exclaimed Alethea as the Sinclairs' carriage rolled to a stop in front of the town house. ‘I thought we'd never arrive.' She hopped out of the carriage the moment the groom opened the door and walked towards the front steps. She was desperate for a distraction after spending the entire carriage ride remembering how Trent had removed her glove in the conservatory. The way he had looked at her then had made her feel strange. She could not describe it fully, but she had felt hot and achy, needing something, yet she knew not what. It was decidedly frustrating.

The door of her aunt's residence flew open and Alethea beamed at the sight of her friend. ‘Letty!'

‘Thea!' Beaming with excitement, the blonde woman with the ever-present smile enveloped her in a tight embrace. ‘Oh Thea, it's so wonderful to see you again!'

‘It has been
much
too long since I last saw you. How is Aunt Margaret?'

Letty hooked her arm through hers. ‘Why don't you come and see for yourself?'

They walked into the modest salon, where Alethea caught sight of her aunt for the first time in five months. ‘Aunt Margaret!'

Lady Margaret Sinclair's face lit up at the sight of her niece. ‘Alethea, my dear.'

The younger woman hurried forward and the two women embraced. ‘Oh, Aunt, it is so good to see you again.' Alethea took a step back and looked closely at her father's sister. Within her extended family, it was her aunt whom she most closely resembled, having the same dark hair and eyes, and similar bone structure and build. Looking at her aunt was like looking in a mirror and seeing how she would appear thirty years from now. ‘You look very well, Aunt, and I am so very pleased. I have been meaning to visit for some time now. Forgive me for not coming sooner.'

‘Sit down, child.' After they took their seats, her aunt continued. ‘No forgiveness is required, my dear. I have been very well. And after moving to Bath and taking the waters here, I am feeling quite invigorated. You should visit the Pump Room, Alethea. Letty would be more than happy to accompany you, I am sure. She is much more interesting company than an old lady.'

‘Oh hush, my lady, you know that is not true,' interjected her companion. ‘The two of us have such fun there, learning all about the newest gossip, who is forming an attachment to whom, and who is separating from whom. It is most titillating.' She winked at the older woman, who shook her head resignedly. Letty had been her aunt's companion for almost eight years, and they were very much used to each other's foibles.

‘Heavens,' said Alethea, laughing. ‘I thought I had escaped the gossip-mongers in London, only to find the two of you engaged in that very same occupation.'

‘Well, can you blame us? You would not
believe
half the things that happen around here,' replied Letty, smiling at the maid, who had just brought in a tray of tea, sandwiches and small cakes.

‘I have a feeling that you are going to tell me all about it, but do start with the most unbelievable ones.' The younger ladies shared a laugh at Alethea's request, while her aunt looked on with a smile.

Once they had all been served their beverages, Lady Margaret spoke again. ‘How is your father, Alethea? He has been writing to me, but one cannot always tell someone's health from a letter.'

‘He's in good health, Aunt. He sends his regards and hopes to see you soon. He is constantly engaged with his business and estate affairs. And as you know, he has been rather involved with government policies.'

‘That is welcome news indeed.' The older woman took a sip of her tea. ‘And your mother? She is well too?'

Alethea smiled at the question, which she knew was only asked out of courtesy. There was no love lost between her aunt and her mother. In fact, her aunt had openly acknowledged that she had tried to persuade her younger brother not to marry the woman to whom he had formed an attachment, but he had ignored his sister's advice and married Alethea's mother nevertheless. ‘She is well, Aunt, and concentrating all her attention on poor Charlotte and her bevy of suitors. I just pray Charlotte doesn't quail under the pressure and marry one of them.'

‘I wouldn't be so concerned, my dear; Charlotte is stronger than you might imagine. She is your sister and a Sinclair after all.'

‘That is true, but I only say that because I myself almost succumbed when I was in a similar position.'

‘You did? You've never told me that!' cried Letty, looking shocked.

Alethea made a face. ‘Do you remember Lord Isles?'

Her friend's mouth fell open. ‘Lord Isles? The peacock that used to dress in the most garish colours under the sun? You almost accepted
his
offer? Tell me that isn't true.'

‘I'm afraid it is. He had promised me that once we were married we would live separate lives. I would have had a comfortable life on his country estate and he could continue his life with his . . .' She stopped, trying to think of a socially acceptable word.

‘Male lover?'

‘
Letty!
' the two Sinclair women exclaimed simultaneously. Aunt Margaret looked horrified, although her eyes were filled with laughter.

‘I'm sorry, but everyone knows that Lord Isles' friend, Mr Spencer, was more than just a friend. And I cannot believe you didn't tell me that you almost accepted his offer!' The blonde woman looked hurt.

Alethea quickly reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘I'm so sorry, Letty. I didn't tell you because, well, you know that many of the men who made an offer for me were not men I could seriously consider. When Lord Isles made his, I must confess that I was in particularly low spirits.'

‘Oh my dear.' Alethea looked up to see her aunt appearing distressed. ‘I should have been there to protect you.'

‘It's all right, Aunt, you were not to know. Even Papa did not know the full extent of the suitors I had till much later. And I came to my senses just in time. So everything turned out as it should have. Such as the fact that here I am, unmarried at the advanced age of five and twenty.'

‘Well, we have heard that there is a distinct possibility that you may no longer be unmarried by the time you turn six and twenty.' Letty's voice was sly and Alethea threw her a suspicious look.

‘What have you heard, exactly?' Alethea asked, raising her brows.

‘That a certain very wealthy peer with a shadowy past has shown an interest in you,' Letty replied casually.

Lady Margaret's eyes twinkled. ‘We may be in Bath, but I still have many friends in London.'

‘Oh dear,' sighed Alethea. ‘You plan to question me about every encounter I have had with Trent, don't you?'

Letty laughed. ‘Every second of every encounter. And if I think you are leaving anything out, I will come and sit on you until you yield.'

The young brunette laughed, raising her hands in surrender. ‘No need to sit on me. I yield! But first, let me have one of these honey sandwiches. I am absolutely famished.'

The next morning, the three ladies were in the midst of an extremely late breakfast when a knock sounded at the door.

Lady Margaret frowned. ‘Whoever could it be at this hour?'

A short while later, that question was answered by the footman. ‘His Lordship, the Marquess of Ashbourne.'

Alethea gasped at the unexpected sight before her. ‘Marcus? Marcus!' Leaping out of her chair, she rushed over and threw her arms around him.

He grinned and held her tightly. ‘Greetings, dear sister.'

After she'd released him, she looked up at his smiling face. ‘What are you doing in Bath?'

‘I had to visit some of Father's tenants at Hawkesbury. And since I was only a few hours' ride away, I thought I would visit my darling aunt and sister.' He turned and smiled at their relative. ‘Good morning, Aunt.'

‘Marcus, my darling.' Their aunt proffered her cheek, which he kissed before exchanging greetings with Letty.

‘I do apologise for not giving you any notice of my visit,' he said, seating himself on the chair next to Alethea. ‘It was completely on the spur of the moment.'

‘Don't concern yourself about such things,' said Lady Margaret dismissively. ‘I am just pleased that you are here. I haven't seen you in ages. Why, I think the last time I saw you was more than six months ago.'

‘You are right, Aunt, I have been a most neglectful nephew. I do hope you'll forgive me.' He spoke as if it were an accepted fact that she would. Alethea rolled her eyes as she bit into her toast. Marcus had a sense of entitlement not only from being the sole male and heir of a dukedom; he was also the firstborn grandchild on both sides of the family. In other words, he was used to being the object of adoration.

‘I will make an exception this one time,' replied their aunt, her smile indicating otherwise.

‘And what are Marie-Helene and Izzy doing while you are gallivanting about, acting lord of the manor?' Alethea cocked an eyebrow at her brother.

He narrowed his eyes. ‘They are visiting Marie-Helene's parents in Bordeaux as we speak. Sister, you do realise I am to be the future Duke of Alton. And I will be the one holding the purse strings. So you might wish to consider showing me some semblance of respect.'

‘Ha! I will show you respect when you earn it.' She paused for effect. ‘Which will be never.'

Marcus tsked, shaking his head. ‘If only Mother could see you now.'

‘And to think I missed you. I must be touched in the head,' retorted Alethea.

The two siblings grinned at each other.

‘Oh la, the sight of the two of you together is almost too much to bear. It is entirely unfair for one family to be blessed with so much beauty,' moaned Letty.

‘They are uncommonly handsome, are they not?' Lady Margaret beamed like an approving parent. ‘They certainly take after our side of the family. Not that the Carrs are unattractive, of course, just that . . . well, they aren't exactly striking are they?' Carr was Alethea's mother's maiden name. ‘To this day, I cannot understand what it is that your father sees in her.'

‘Aunt Margaret, you are wicked,' commented Alethea laughingly as she took a sip of her tea. She knew her aunt meant no malice. She really was genuinely perplexed as to what her father found attractive in his wife. The passing of the years had not led to any enlightenment. Alethea's own theory was that her father liked a challenge, and he had found one in her mother. Very few women dared speak their minds and her mother was an exception. She kept him on his toes and rarely submitted to his will. It had proved to be an interesting childhood for Alethea and her siblings. Yes, there was conflict, but there was also much affection. More so than there was in many other marriages, she would wager.

‘Now, what are you lovely ladies planning to do this morning?' Marcus asked, hungrily eyeing the buttered toast on her plate, which she promptly moved out of his reach. ‘Pay a visit to the Pump Room?'

‘Of course. It
is
the place to see and be seen, after all,' said Alethea, in her best imitation of her mother's voice, nose in the air.

Marcus guffawed. ‘Oh, I have missed you, sister dear. I shall accompany you for a short time, and a short time only, mind you, as the orchestra there always gives me an infernal headache. I truly do not know how you bear the noise and the heat and the ceaseless gossip.'

‘Why, because taking the waters there is particularly healthful, Marcus.' Alethea's tone was sweet as saccharine. ‘If the atmosphere does give you the megrims, you needn't come with us, you know. I will see you for dinner this evening.' It had just occurred to her that her brother did not yet know about Trent, and close as she was to her sibling, she wasn't quite sure how to break the news.

Damn and blast
, she thought as her brother's brow furrowed.

‘I would have thought you would be happy to be in my company. Is there something you haven't told me, Alethea?'

‘No,' she answered, casually cutting into a slice of ham on her plate.

‘My dear,' said her aunt, ‘I think it's best you inform Marcus, don't you think? It isn't something which you will be able to hide, especially if what you expect comes to pass.' Alethea had told Lady Margaret and Letty that the duke had indicated he would visit her here in Bath.

‘Alethea?' Marcus's frown had deepened. ‘What news have you not told me?'

‘I . . . ah, well, a gentleman has recently shown some . . . interest in me.' The words came out in a rush and she felt a blush heat her cheeks. Her brother had been there to witness the embarrassment of all the suitors she had rejected. This was not something she felt comfortable discussing with him. Worse, she feared his opinion of Trent. She would never admit it, but she, too, like all the women in their extended family, adored the future Duke of Alton. She had done so even before she had learnt to speak. His opinion meant the world to her.

Marcus's eyebrows rose. ‘A gentleman? And who might this gentleman be?'

Alethea moistened her lips. ‘Trent.' She didn't need to expound any further.

Her brother looked surprised. ‘Trent? Since when did he come out of hiding?'

‘This season, I am given to understand,' said Lady Margaret. Alethea admired the calmness of her voice. ‘I think he has been persuaded to re-join society so that he can find himself a duchess.'

‘A brood mare, you mean.' Marcus did not look impressed and Alethea's heart sank.

‘That may be so, but I do think the duke has formed something of a
tendre
for our darling girl here.' There was affection in her aunt's voice, but Alethea was still embarrassed.

The marquess looked at her with his piercing dark eyes, which were so like her own. ‘You have heard about his wife, haven't you? The one who is now dead? Possibly at his hands?'