The Black Duke's Prize (13 page)

A figure stepped up to block the filtered sunlight. "Excuse me,
Your Grace."

Nicholas let Kate go as though he had been scalded, and sat upright.
"Damn," he muttered, staring down at her, then turned to look up at
Jack. standing a few feet away. "Jack, consider yourself dismissed."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Katherine, her face hot, sat up as well. Despite the difficulty she was
still having with breathing, she wasn't certain she was grateful for the
groom's interference either; he had likely saved her virtue, but at that moment
she didn't know if she wanted her virtue saved. She watched Nicholas's profile
closely, after a moment unable to help smiling at the exchange that followed.

"Don't you have to water the horses?"

"Did that, Your Grace."

"Walk them?" Reluctant amusement began to war with the
frustration on Nicholas's face.

"Did that, Your Grace."

''Go away, Jack."

"Can't do that, Your Grace."

"Well, we can," the duke stated. rising to his feet. He held a
hand down and pulled her up after him. He reached down again and handed her the
parasol before he placed her hand over his arm. Without a backward glance he
led her along the creek. After a moment he looked down at her. "Again you
make me forget myself. Baiting me can be a dangerous thing for a young lady to
do."

"Yes," she answered, again unwilling to let him cow her.
"I know."

He shook his head. "Damn it, Katherine! I'm not used to this kind
of game, and I'm afraid I don't play it very well."

''Thomas said as much," she replied, swinging her parasol back and
forth in her hand and wondering what kind of game he thought he was playing
with her, and what winning it would entail.

"What exactly did Thomas say?" the Black Duke queried, his
tone sharper.

"Only that you were used to a different kind of woman than I. He
implied that I might need rescuing."

"He's right. On both counts." He stopped and moved in front of
her. "You've likely heard a great many things about me," he said
slowly, his gray eyes serious, "and most of them are probably true. Some
things I did simply because I could, because there was no one willing to try to
stop me." He paused for a moment, then smiled. "And believe me, you
are the first person to ever accuse me of being a high stickler."

She grinned back. "I can believe that."

He laughed, taking her hand to raise it to his lips. "I am pleased
you came to London this Season," he murmured, chuckling, and, still
holding her hand, started to move forward again.

She remembered what she had heard about how dubiously he had begun the
summer. The Black Duke before her little resembled the rakehell she had heard
discussed. "I miss home a little, but so am I."

"Where is home?"

"A tiny estate a few days north of here." She pursed her lips
ruefully. "I daresay Crestley is probably smaller than your stables at
Sommesby."

His hand jumped in hers. "Crestley?" he repeated slowly.

"Mm-hm. Crestley Hall. You should see it. It's so beautiful. Mama
loved roses, and the whole garden blooms all summer. I used to love to open my
window in the evening and let the smell of the flowers inside my room."
Nicholas didn't say anything, and she thought she must be boring him. "I'm
sorry if I'm prattling."

He looked over at her, his expression more solemn than she would have
expected. "I have yet to hear you prattle, Kate. Crestley sounds
enchanting."

She sighed when Nicholas finally glanced down at his pocket watch.
"I would hate to have put up with all of this to preserve your reputation
and then ruin you by keeping you out after dark," he muttered with a
glance at his groom as they turned back, and she laughed again.

They loaded the remains of their picnic back into the hamper, which
Nicholas carried back to the phaeton. While he put it away she walked up to
where Jack stood holding the horses. "These are beautiful animals,"
she said.

"Aye," Jack agreed, "and His Grace is real particular
about who holds the ribbons. Only him 'n' me ever driven 'em before
today."

She looked at the groom closely, finding that piece of information very
interesting. "Why is―"

"Ready to go?" Nicholas asked, coming up beside her. She
wasn't, but nodded as he helped her up into the high seat.
"The Magic
Flute
comes to the opera next week," he said, moving around and
climbing up beside her. "You and the Hamptons would be welcome to join me
in my box."

She nodded, grinning. ''That would be grand." After a moment she
laughed.

"What now?" he asked, clucking at the team.

"You sounded so . . . proper," she said with a chuckle.
Nicholas looked over at her and furrowed his brow.

''There's no need to be insulting," he returned. He faced forward
for a moment, then snorted and glanced sideways at her. "'Proper'? Now I'm
offended," he muttered.

Katherine just laughed at him.

The Duke of Sommesby had never spent such a day in his life, and didn't
quite know what to make of what had transpired. On rare occasions he had been
induced to take one or other of his mistresses picnicking, but even with the
complete license they granted him, he had not felt what he had experienced by
sharing one afternoon, and one kiss, with Katherine Ralston. Just when he thought
he was winning the battle she changed the rules, and he had no idea what to do
with her.

Over the past few weeks it had finally begun to occur to him that
perhaps his own reputation did matter, and not simply for his own sake. If he
saw Katherine again it would begin to reflect on her. And he did want to see
her again, with an urge so strong he felt powerless to resist. His mind and his
heart had begun behaving like two different entities, leaving him dazed and
befuddled with so many conflicting emotions he was halfway to believing he had
gone mad and might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

He stopped the phaeton outside Hampton House and came around to hand
Katherine down. With a word to Jack to keep the horses standing, he followed
her to the door. As though sensing their presence, Rawlins swung the door open,
but Kate stopped on the top step. "I wanted to thank you," she
murmured, and touched his sleeve. "I had a splendid time."

He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "As did I," he
answered with what was likely a rather addlepated smile.

She looked up at him for a long moment, her blue eyes twinkling, and
then stepped inside. With a deep sigh and a silent curse at all diligent
grooms, he followed. He watched her go upstairs, then found Neville in his
office.

"Nick." the baron said in acknowledgment, but the duke thought
the greeting sounded cool.

He could guess why, and he had his own reasons for being annoyed with
Clarey in return. "Neville," he replied, shutting the office door and
taking a seat.

"Did you have a pleasant time?" Nicholas nodded. "Yes.
Thank you."

The baron stood, walked around the office, then sat down again.
"She's like a daughter to me, you know," he burst out.

"I know," Nicholas answered, making what he deemed an admirable
effort at keeping his temper. "I'm glad she had somewhere to go when she
left Crestley."

Clarey started and looked up at him. "Nick―" Sommesby
stood. "I don't know what's going on," he said with a growl,
"but consider me out of it." He turned for the door.

"Sommesby, it's not what you think. I would never hurt Kate."
   
 

Nicholas stopped with his hand on the door. "Then why am I buying
her estate out from under her? She has no idea, Neville."

"I know. It's her damned uncle. The man's never done an honest
day's work in his life, but he was named Kate's guardian. The first thing the
bastard did was to send Kate here, then put Crestley up for sale as soon as she
was out the door." Neville looked at him. "Or so I assume."

Somewhat reassured by the baron's obvious indignation, Nicholas released
the door handle and turned around. "You're right. It came on the
market."

"You see now why I couldn't become involved, why I needed―"

"A rakehell with a bad enough reputation that Kate's uncle would
believe I would willingly cheat her out of her inheritance?" He shook his
head, trying to curb his anger at himself, Neville, and, mostly, Kate's dear uncle.
"Some things are too dastardly even for me."

"Nick, I don't know what else to do. Simon Ralston would bum
Crestley to the ground before he'd walk away from it."

Nicholas closed his eyes for a moment, then jabbed a finger at the
baron. "You tell Katherine about this. She loves Crestley. She deserves to
know." Besides, he thought, she'd likely kill him if she suspected he was
hiding something from her; also, although he thrived on upsetting and
annoying people, hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'll tell her."

"All right." He nodded and took a deep breath. "I believe
I'm close to striking a deal. My man should be back in a day or two. I'll
inform you as soon as I find out myself."

Neville stood. "Thank you, Nick."

Nicholas shook his head and rose as well. 'Thank me when the deal's
done."

11

K
atherine
awoke to the scent of roses. After a dreamy moment she started, then sat up to
see Emmie placing a large vase filled with several dozen red and white blooms
on her dressing table. "What's this?" she queried.

"Oh, Miss Kate, these come for you first thing this morning. I
wanted them to be here when you woke up," her maid gushed. "Ain't
they grand?"

''They are." Katherine smiled as she spied the note settled among
the buds.

"Shall I bring you up your morning tea, miss?" Emmie went over
to the window and drew back the curtains, letting in the morning sunlight.

"Yes, please."

As soon as Emmie had shut the door behind her, Katherine dashed over to
the flowers. She leaned forward and breathed deeply of their fresh scent, then
pulled out the envelope. Her name was written boldly across the front, and she
smiled. The typically brief missive made her laugh. It said, ''To a fine whip.
Nicholas."

She was still smiling when she came down to breakfast, to find that her
godparents had just sat down as well. "Good morning," she greeted
them, going around the table to kiss each of them on the cheek.

"Good morning; m'dear," Lord Neville responded, though he
seemed a little subdued.

"Have you sent someone to Crestley?" she asked, abruptly
remembering that he had promised to do so.

He nodded and finished spreading jam on his toast. "We should hear
in a few days how things stand there," he informed her, then cleared his
throat. "Kate―"

She could guess what he was going to say, and didn't want to end up
explaining that she had gone behind his back. Not when she was in such a good
mood that morning. "I appreciate your assistance, but I do mean to handle
this myself. If anything has happened at Crestley, I will deal with it."

There was a moment of silence. "Kate, there's something―"

She raised a hand. "Please, Lord Neville. I am serious." Lady
Alison cleared her throat. "You received more roses this morning."

"Yes, I did," she responded, her smile returning.

"Were they from Nick?"

She nodded, accepting the jar of marmalade from her godfather. ''Thank
you. Yes, they were."

Lady Alison leaned across the table, her face serious.

"Kate, Nick is a dear friend, but he does have a certain
reputation. We don't wish to see you hurt."

Katherine was touched by their concern, though she felt it to be
unnecessary. "He has made no declaration to me," she said,
"other than to invite the three of us to the opera next week."