Say Yes to the Duke (3 page)

Janice’s heart picked up its pace as he neared.

Although the duke wasn’t the tallest of the group, he bulged with muscle, exuding
a solid masculinity the men trailing him lacked. With his almond-shaped eyes, swarthy
complexion, and rolling gait, he reminded Janice of Pan … a hot, seething Pan. She
half-expected the snow behind him to melt in his trail. A blush heated her cheeks
as she recalled the images she’d seen of the half human, half beast, all of which
portrayed him with a wildly large portion of the male anatomy she really shouldn’t
be thinking of right now.

But she couldn’t help it. Only a few minutes ago, she’d been wrapped in the arms of
a man who’d made it abundantly clear that
he’d
been aroused by her.

Her toes curled and her belly tightened just thinking about Luke Callahan.

Now the duke snapped his fingers at the hounds, and they all took off in a pack and
huddled, restless, near the front steps, not wanting to lower their haunches onto
the snow. Then he tossed away his cheroot, a nonchalant gesture that spoke volumes.
There was no one he needed to impress here, yet he would greet a lady as a lady should
be greeted.

Be agreeable,
she thought when he bent over her hand murmuring polite words of welcome while his
friends hovered nearby, pale moons in his orbit. She was often dismissed easily. And
she might be nearly on the shelf. But she could win awards for friendliness.

The august personage before her straightened again yet still held to her gloved hand.
They were of the same height, she realized, a fact she hadn’t noticed the one time
she’d met him in London and managed to spill that lemonade on his arm at a ball.

Up close, she could see that his lips were dry and chapped, his cheeks ruddy with
cold, and his hair a tangled mess of brown, coarse and abundant, like a horse’s mane.
He was clearly a man meant to live outdoors, and she wondered if he gave his valet
fits.

In London, he’d been packaged to a fault as a duke—he’d had a restrained, immaculate
appearance. But here …

He was Pan.

“So, Lady Janice.” His eyes bored into hers with cool disinterest. “You’re of the
prolific House of Brady.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said. “I’m the second of three daughters, the fourth oldest
of six siblings.”

And probably the last to get married—if ever.
She imagined herself doddering about with a cane and sneaking sweets to all her nephews
and nieces while their parents weren’t looking.

“How interesting,” the duke murmured in the smooth, unhurried tone that suggested
buckets of money, ancient bloodlines, and an Oxford education.

She could tell he was lying. He was bored by her already. She was ready to leave him,
go to her room, and become invisible.

“Are you enjoying the snow?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s lovely.” But she wouldn’t wax on about how gorgeous it was
coating the eaves of the house like sugar, making it appear like something from a
fairy tale. It was true, but she was cold and ready to go indoors.

He looked over his shoulder at the two gentlemen huddled behind him. “This sort of
weather clears the lungs, isn’t that right, men?”

The more Janice heard the duke speak, the more his rich man’s accent became too nasal
and contrived for her liking.

“Of course, Your Grace,” said the short older man, wincing as a gust of wind caused
him to hold on to his hat.

“Right,” returned the other, who was much younger and strove to sound spirited.

One didn’t contradict a duke, did one?

Janice would have chuckled at the misery evident in their expressions if it hadn’t
also been a pity that there didn’t seem to be true affection between the men and their
host—the kind that she’d seen her brothers and father share with one another and their
friends.

When the duke introduced them—the older one was Lord Rowntree and the younger Lord
Yarrow—he was all that was courteous, as were they.

But there was still something different about Halsey. Beneath that layer of polite
ducal behavior was something exotic in his demeanor. Janice wondered if he’d traveled
far and well, perhaps experienced extraordinary things.

Dark things.

Her scalp prickled with a sinister awareness, but she quickly discounted it. Mr. Callahan’s
influence, of course. And maybe there was still some caution of her own—well-earned
caution after Finn.

By now her ears were frozen. Her entire face was, and as for her toes … well, they
were like ice. She should really discuss with His Grace the matter of her not having
a proper chaperone, now that she knew his grandmother wasn’t well enough to serve
as one. But she’d bring the matter up inside, before a fire.

If they’d ever get there.

“I understand you’re here to see my grandmother.” He spread his legs and crossed his
arms as if he were prepared to stand there indefinitely.

“Yes.” She gave a little involuntary shiver, but he made no move toward the house.
“The dowager duchess wrote my parents and asked me to stay a month. But I understand
she’s not herself.”

“She
is
ill. Who told you?”

A stab of alarm shot through her. “A groom, Your Grace.” Surely he wouldn’t be upset
with Mr. Callahan and construe his telling her about the dowager as gossip. “He was
only looking out for your best interests. When he found us on the property and asked
us our business, I told him the dowager had invited me. He said that was unlikely
as she was ill.”

“She believes she’s the Queen.” His Grace spoke with a simple frankness that lent
his words a measure of poignancy.

“I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around herself in hopes he’d take the hint. “Did
you have any idea I was coming to see her? I would hate for my visit to have taken
you by surprise.”

His eyes gave nothing away. “Dukes don’t always know the particulars of the daily
goings-on at their homes,” he said, “but I assure you, nothing is done at Halsey House
unless it’s my express wish.”

How that could possibly be Janice couldn’t fathom. It seemed quite the paradox. But
polite answers often were ambiguous, and who was she to question a duke?

“We’re glad to have you here, Lady Janice.” He must have seen the doubt on her face.
“You’ll enjoy your stay—although I’m sure you’ll want to return to London as soon
as the roads clear.”

Return to London?

“Oh,” was all she managed to say. Her kissing groom had told her the same thing.

“You didn’t come here to be a nurse,” the duke went on, “but that’s exactly the sort
of companion my grandmother needs.” He allowed his mouth to curve in a small smile.
“You should be at parties in Town, my lady, enjoying yourself.”

Oh, right. Enjoying herself in Town. Janice took her mind off the memory of Luke Callahan
long enough to remember everything she was missing in London—

Which wasn’t much. This was most awkward. His Grace had no idea how unpopular she
was, obviously. And he was basically telling her to leave. But in such a charming
way.

She felt momentarily overwhelmed. “I-I’m so sorry about this, Your Grace. Yes, of
course, as soon as the snow clears I should head back to Grosvenor Square.” She bit
her lip. What a disappointment this trip was turning out to be. Mama and Daddy would
be devastated. “I’m afraid, meanwhile, that I have a further complication. I can tell
you about it inside.”

“Oh?” He took another deep, cleansing breath. “Why put it off? We’ll discuss it now.”

He would want to, wouldn’t he?

“Very well.” An eddy of cold air swept up her skirt. “I didn’t bring a companion.
My mother believed Her Grace was to chaperone.”

“An understandable mistake. Your maid will serve as a chaperone just as well.”

What he was proposing wasn’t exactly proper. Surely he must know. But he was striving
to accommodate her, wasn’t he? She didn’t want to be churlish and overly demanding.
She was an uninvited guest, really. Her invitation hadn’t counted, not if the dowager
wasn’t in her right mind when she wrote it.

Which was why Janice said, “Yes, my maid will do,” although Isobel most certainly
wouldn’t. She and Janice were the same age—down to the same birthday—and Izzy was
the opposite of strict and mature, not to mention she had the colorful manners of
a girl who’d grown up in a traveling circus and regularly ridden on elephants as a
child.

But Janice would agree to anything at the moment. She looked longingly at the front
door.

“Your maid will do until I procure you a genuine chaperone, of course,” the duke clarified.
“We can’t have your mother concerned.”

There was that enigmatic half smile again, the one that made her heart beat faster
with the slightest twinge of worry. “That’s good of you, Your Grace,” she said. “Thank
you.”

“I have just the person,” he said with alacrity. “A widow who recently moved to the
estate. A former schoolteacher. Her name is Mrs. Friday. I’ll send someone for her
immediately.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” A shaft of icy air angled down from the roof and flung snowflakes
beneath Janice’s bonnet. “Are you sure she won’t mind having her routine disrupted?”

“She’ll welcome a change; I’m sure of it.” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
A footman came running over, and Halsey gave him directions. “Send someone to fetch
Mrs. Friday straightaway. Tell her I’ll compromise her well”—there was a cough from
one of his friends, and Janice felt her eyes go wide—“
compensate
her well,” he went on smoothly, “especially as we’re giving her such short notice.”

He turned back to Janice, completely unfazed by his outrageous faux pas. Dukes didn’t
need to feel embarrassed about such things.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Janice tried to smile. “I look forward to meeting your grandmother.
I may not be a nurse, but I can…”—She paused, her entire body heating up when she
saw Luke Callahan walk with quiet resolve behind Halsey toward the carriage, where
he put his hand on the horse’s harness and made direct eye contact with her—“keep
her company,” she finished lamely.

Even through the snowfall, the groom’s gaze was bold. Unyielding. The message was
clear:
Don’t forget what I said about him.

The duke, of course.

But who was he to talk, this Mr. Callahan? Hadn’t he agreed with her that he was no
saint himself?

Janice looked away from him as fast as she could. Warring with her annoyance with
the man was the ridiculous exhilaration that rushed through her at the sight of him.

He’d kissed her.

Really
kissed her.

And she’d never forget.

Never, ever.

Although she wished she could. He was a blackguard, a ne’er-do-well. And he’d laughed
at her when she’d slapped him.

The hounds began to whine and wag their massive tails at him, which caused the duke
and his friends to look in his direction.

“You! Groom!” His Grace shouted. “Get over here and pick this up.” He pointed to the
still-smoking cheroot in the snow.

Inwardly, Janice winced. Despite her disapproval of Mr. Callahan on general principles,
she couldn’t help feeling very strongly that he didn’t deserve to be addressed with
so little dignity. He was intelligent. Shrewd. All virile man. This she knew from
experience. Very
close
experience.

She sensed a split second’s hesitation before he left the horse, but then he walked
toward Janice and the duke with a fearless gait and she found herself bracing.
For heaven’s sakes,
she reminded herself.
He’s a
groom.

But it was no good. Her pulse quickened even further as he approached. He’d unlocked
a door to a deeply pleasurable place within her with his kisses, which was reason
enough to lose her breath. In his groom’s garb, he somehow managed to exude an aura
of power, something that went beyond his impressive physique. It shone from his eyes
and seasoned his stride with confidence. She had to struggle to maintain an even expression
and thought back to what she’d told Isobel in the carriage: nothing happened in the
country.

And then he strode past her.

She felt a searing disappointment. The next moment, he was only a few feet away from
her, bending over the cheroot, smashing it out in the snow, and picking it up. He
straightened and faced Halsey and her both. The feel of his mouth on hers was still
fresh in her memory.

“Move swiftly when I beckon you.” The duke spoke without heat but with an implied
sense of supremacy.

Mr. Callahan stood directly between His Grace and the house. “An old leg injury, Your
Grace.”

It was no apology. And he hadn’t appeared to have a leg injury earlier. Oh, no. He’d
been a firm rock of a man who’d held steady all the while that she’d kissed him, kneed
him, and then slapped him.

The duke’s face, implacable as it was, took on a curious cast. “Was it you who told
Lady Janice my grandmother might be ill?” There was no chiding in his tone. But there
was something else.…

Control.
That’s what it was. The duke was very controlled, Janice thought, and held her breath.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

She was fascinated to see that Luke Callahan appeared equally in control. It was like
watching a chess game between two well-matched opponents.

“It’s not your place to speak to the young lady at all.” Halsey was still cool and
composed. But the tension around his mouth belied his words, making Janice’s heart
beat faster.

“Their carriage wheel broke,” Mr. Callahan replied calmly, “and her driver needed
assistance. Naturally, I asked why they were on the estate. It was a matter of security,
Your Grace.”

Yes, that’s right,
Janice thought. He’d told her he was under orders to preserve the integrity of the
estate.

“I make those decisions, not you,” said the duke. “Whatever carriage comes through
those gates will be free to arrive at this house. All inquiries will be left to me.
Have you questioned visitors before?”