Say Yes to the Duke (37 page)

“Yes, you wait here,” Luke said.

Lord Robert stopped. “But Luke!” he called. “I really don’t think—”

Luke ignored the boy’s protest and continued on.

Grayson called out to him, “Don’t interrupt us, groom. Get back to the horses!”

Lord Brady watched Luke with interest.

Luke didn’t break his stride. “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to the marquess.”

“How dare you?”
Grayson put his hands on his hips. His expression was aggressive, to say the least.
“Get the hell away from here before I fire you, you bastard.”

“I quit anyway.” Luke came up to the two of them and stood his ground as only a practiced
boxer could. He put every ounce of intimidation he could into his own stance.

Lord Brady’s face took on a new, hard-edged quality. Gone was the affable gentleman
entirely. “I don’t know what’s happening here—”

“I can tell you right now,” Grayson said. “This man seduced your daughter.”

Before Luke knew it, Lord Brady had Luke’s lapels in his brawny fists. “What’s His
Grace talking about?” He gave Luke a hard shake.

But before Luke could answer, Grayson said, “I offered for her anyway. In fact, thanks
to me, the disgrace will go untold. So I think you should reconsider, Brady. Your
daughter may have said she didn’t want me, but does she really know any better? She’s
in the throes of calf love. She can’t see straight—thanks to this scoundrel. I suspected
she’d tell you to turn down my offer. It’s why I brought him along today, so I could
point him out to you.”

From the look of him, Lord Brady was ready to throttle Luke to within an inch of his
life. “Is any of this true? By God, if you’ve hurt her—”

Luke heard shouting behind him, the stomp of running feet. Within seconds, he felt
the others at his back. He was in for a serious beating if things didn’t go his way.
Even he couldn’t stave off five grown men and a boy.

Make that four men. Lord Chadwick quietly asked the farmer to depart. “Family matter,”
he said.

“Of course,” answered the farmer.

Luke waited a few seconds for the man to go, then said, “I ask that you hear me out,
Lord Brady.”

The older man’s eyes smoldered with banked fury. “That’s not a good sign. No, indeed,
it’s not.” His Irish brogue was stronger than it had been earlier at the stable block.

“Listen to him, Father,” Peter said. “Every man deserves a chance to defend himself.”

Lord Brady still held to Luke’s jacket. “But you don’t know the crime he’s accused
of,” he chastised his son. “I’m ready to rip him from limb to limb.”

“I can guess,” Peter said coolly. “Even so, you know it’s only fair to give him a
chance to speak.”

Lord Brady pushed Luke away. “All right, then.” He waved a belligerent hand at Luke.
“Commence explaining.” He looked at Robert. “Get out of here, scamp.”

“But Father, I’m nearly a man,” Robert protested. “Let me stay.”

“Yes, let him,” said Lord Chadwick. “He needs to learn what it means to be a proper
man.”

“Do I have no authority here?” Lord Brady shouted. “Do my own sons challenge me?”
He glared round the collection of males behind Luke. He could only imagine the extent
of their dismay—the marquess was fierce when he was angry, like an Irish chieftain
chastising his wayward foot soldiers.

“I’ll go then, Father,” said Robert, sounding disappointed. “But I like Luke. I don’t
believe he’s done anything wrong.”

Luke was touched by the young man’s faith in him. He didn’t deserve it, however. He’d
done his share of wrong, and he was willing to own up to it.

“Aw, stay,” Lord Brady said to his youngest with a scowl.

“Thank you, Father.” Lord Robert’s voice cracked. “But if you all think to gang up
on Luke, it’s only fair he have a man on his side. That would be I.”

“And I’m lucky for your support, Lord Robert,” said Luke without looking back at him.

Grayson eyed Luke with a sneer. “Go ahead and make excuses, you lout, but they won’t
work. Lady Janice herself tacitly admitted to what I just told Lord Brady.”

Luke folded his arms and gazed steadily at the marquess. “I’m here to say I’m guilty
of loving your daughter, my lord, and I want her to be my wife. I’m asking you for
her hand in marriage right now. She loves me. And I love her. I’ll fight until I win
her. And for the rest of our lives together, I’ll fight to make her the happiest woman
on earth.”

There.

He was standing in the truth.
His
truth. And it felt like nothing he’d ever done before.

Lord Brady’s face registered shock, but he managed to get it under control almost
immediately. He exhaled a deep breath and skewered Luke with an ominous look. “Will
my daughter back up your claim?”

“Yes,” he said. “She will.”

“Then I’ll withhold judgment until I speak to her,” the marquess said.

“Wait, Brady.” Grayson’s scorn was palpable. “You’re not actually considering his
offer, are you?”

Lord Brady looked at the duke with a mildly annoyed expression. “I’m making no decisions
about anything without hearing my daughter’s say in the matter.”

“He’s a
groom,
” Grayson said. “For God’s sake, man, do you Irish have no pride?”

Lord Brady whipped around and grabbed Grayson’s jacket. “Take it back,” he said, “unless
you want your face to look like one of those Irish potatoes you Sassenach love to
partake of at all your meals.”

“All right,” Grayson said, clearly rattled. “I’m sorry.”

Lord Brady shoved him hard—just as he’d done Luke—but Grayson couldn’t hold his ground
as well as Luke could. He stumbled and nearly fell. His cool aplomb was nowhere to
be found.

It had been a long time coming. Only Luke wished
he’d
been in Lord Brady’s place to deliver that ducal set-down.

“The ladies can’t get back soon enough,” Lord Brady muttered. “Let’s go, boys.”

He ignored Grayson.

Hell, Luke would, too.
Let him take care of his own horse.
It was a great feeling not to have to
Your Grace
the blackguard anymore.

Riding back, Luke let his horse gallop down the old farm road toward the stable block.
Fighting out in the open was so much more fulfilling than making the occasional sneaky
jab, he thought. It left him vulnerable to attack, yes, but
bring on your worst,
he thought—

He was ready.

Chapter Thirty-three

Janice knew her luck wouldn’t hold out for long. The trip back to Halsey House in
the carriage made up for the uneventful one they’d taken to see the orchids.

Mama was shaking her head. “Are you telling me you’re in love with a groom?”

Janice nodded. “But he’s really a duke. And I don’t know if he knows it. Good God,
I didn’t know it until reading the notebook.”

Marcia took her hand. “As outrageous as all this sounds, the sitting duke wouldn’t
be the first to hold a title he shouldn’t be in possession of. I wonder what
he
knows about the whole business?”

“I wonder, too,” Janice said. “Luke was very cagey about telling me anything about
his search for the diary, other than the fact that his mother was likely mistreated
and he wanted to find out more. But was he actually looking for it to prove his claim
to the title?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” said Mama.

A dark shadow moved across Janice’s heart. “I-I’m almost afraid to—because if he did
know and he intentionally didn’t tell me, then I can’t trust him.”

Marcia sighed. “Men often think that by shielding us from certain things they’re protecting
us. Don’t be too hard on him if that’s the case.”

“Cynthia, put your hands over your ears,” said Mama sternly.

Cynthia, eyes wide, did as she was told.

“Hum,” Mama added.

Cynthia began to hum.

“You call him Luke,” Mama said to Janice.

Janice blushed. “Yes.”

“I presume that if you’re in love with him and you call him Luke you two have had
opportunity to spend private time together.”

Janice was hesitant to nod, but Marcia squeezed her hand. “Yes, Mama,” Janice said,
“we have, but you don’t have to worry.”

Cynthia cast a sideways glance at her mother. She was still humming a nameless little
tune that only added to Janice’s agitation.

“Oh, take your hands off your ears.” Mama pried up her youngest daughter’s cupped
palms. “You’ll have to learn of these things soon enough.”

Cynthia dropped her hands and grinned, apparently astonished at her good luck.

Mama looked round at the three of them. “As you well know, love is a necessary ingredient
in a marriage, whatever the Polite World says to the contrary. And one of the best
parts of loving your husband is what takes place between the two of you in the privacy
of your bedchamber.”

“And sometimes elsewhere,” Marcia interjected lightly.

Cynthia’s mouth stayed closed, but her eyes grew round as saucers.

Mama glared at Marcia. “This is not the time.”

Marcia patted her mother’s knee. “Mama, we mustn’t make the girls too nervous. I know
you don’t mean to, but—”

“But what?”

“You sound a bit stuffy.”

“Me?”

Marcia nodded. “Marriage can be quite amusing,” she told her younger sisters. “Let’s
leave it at that.”

Mama’s pretty forehead puckered but quickly smoothed out. She couldn’t stay angry
for long when all three of her daughters were smiling at her. “My point is that if
you love a man enough to want to be with him that way, I certainly hope you’ll do
everything in your power to win him. Sometimes men can be a bit, shall we say, blind
to the obvious.”

Marcia nodded vigorously. “They’re lovely just the way they are, but occasionally
they need to be reminded of how lucky they are to have you in their lives.”

“Yes,” said Mama. “But it shouldn’t have to happen often. He should be running after
you
—and not the other way around.”

Janice’s heart sank at that.

“Is he not running after you, Janice?” Cynthia’s beautiful head tilted in curiosity.

Janice shook her head.

Mama and Marcia exchanged concerned glances.

“But it’s because he’s a groom,” Janice explained. “A young lady of the ton can’t
marry a groom.”

“You mean the way a marquess can’t marry a seamstress?” Mama said coolly.

Cynthia gasped. “But Mama,
you
were a seamstress. And look at you!”

Mama patted her leg. “Yes, I know, dear. That’s my point.”

Everyone laughed.

“I’m sorry,” Janice said to her mother. “I should have thought of you and Daddy.”

“It’s all right,” Mama replied, “but if it’s love—true love and not mere infatuation—then
it’s enough.”

“I know about infatuation.” Janice wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. “I had that with
Finn. He was handsome and witty, and he hung on my every word.”

“Tell me about it,” said Marcia, chuckling.

They exchanged a private smile.

“Just look at Daddy and me,” Mama reminded them. “Whoever thought a lowly seamstress
could rule his brawny Irish heart? And that I’d discover a marchioness in me just
waiting to come out?”

All of them laughed so long that Marcia had to wipe her eyes with her handkerchief.
“You did find her, Mama,” she said. “Sometimes I forget that you weren’t born and
bred to your position.”

“Neither were you.” Mama smiled. “Neither as an earl’s wife or as headmistress of
a fine girls’ school.”

“But love changes everything,” Cynthia piped up. “Pippa says it all the time. Her
uncle Bertie told her so.”

“Well, Uncle Bertie was right.” Mama patted Cynthia’s hand.

Janice sighed. “I wish Luke believed so, but he doesn’t. I told him that he doesn’t
know any better. He’s never been in a family. He’s never seen that you can take an
impossible situation and make it better. They were so busy at the orphanage, he never
got much attention. And the nuns were always struggling. He saw nothing fixed. And
then he ran away.”

“That’s a shame.” Marcia sent her a solemn look. “Do you think he loves you?”

“I know he does.” Janice gazed into her lap and thought about their time together
in the cellar. “He admitted it, although he didn’t mean to.”

“He’s afraid,” Mama said.

Janice looked up at her. “That’s what I told him.”

The carriage rolled quietly on for a few minutes.

“What are we going to do when we get back?” asked Cynthia. “Janice, you can’t marry
the Duke of Halsey now. Oops, I mean the
pretender.
”

Mama sighed. “Darling, we mustn’t call him a pretender. He might know nothing of his
family history. We need to give him the benefit of the doubt until all this is sorted
out.”

“All right.” Cynthia leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I hope it’s resolved
soon. I want to celebrate
something.
” She sat up. “Who ever thought you’d marry?” she asked Janice. “I was beginning to
wonder. Your beaus dropped off last Season so precipitously, it was like you had the
plague.”

“Cynthia!” Marcia chided her.

Mama, too, glared at her.

“Sorry,” Cynthia mumbled, two stains of red on her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound
rude. I only meant that it made no sense to me. Janice, you were as pretty and agreeable
as ever.”

“It’s all right, little sister,” Janice said. She could discuss that prickly issue
with equanimity now. “I know my beaus disappeared. And one reason is because I was
afraid to be myself. I was hiding and didn’t want to make waves, to the point that
I became invisible and … lost my own way. But no worries, I’ve found it again.”

She’d never tell them the other reason—the malicious gossip about her sleeping with
Finn. And now she wondered how much influence it had really had. Perhaps she’d seemed
an easy target.

But from now on, she’d create her own impressions, and she’d start with singing. It
was an important part of who she was, and she no longer wanted to ignore it.