The Forbidden Duke (5 page)

“Certainly.” Lady Abercrombie tossed a smirk at her cohort. “We wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”

Nora circuited the furniture, which took her within a few feet of the duke. He’d turned his head toward her again. She nearly tripped under the weight of his gaze. There was something palpable about his presence, as if he were a lion in his den and had become aware of the prey within his grasp.

Nonsense
, she told herself. But nonsense that made her shiver nonetheless.

The remainder of the tea passed quickly, and Nora was able to keep her attention focused on the guests and not on the Forbidden Duke. Rather,
Kendal
. In fact, as the last guest departed, she turned toward the window and saw that he was gone. She’d somehow missed him leaving. Pity.

Lady Satterfield closed the door to the drawing room and exhaled. “My goodness, what a crowd today! Especially at the end.”

Nora wondered if it was because word had spread that the Forbidden Duke was here.

The countess smiled at Nora. “How was it, dear? Are you exhausted?”

“Not terribly. It was a very pleasant afternoon.” Except for when her old “friends” had shown up.

“Good. I know we discussed how your past might come up, but I take it no one mentioned anything?”

“Actually, Lady Dunn was rather forthright concerning my…indiscretion.”

Lady Satterfield’s forehead pleated with concern. “I should have anticipated that and made sure you weren’t alone with her. My apologies.”

“It was fine. In fact, I rather liked her candor.” Nora considered her next words carefully. “She told me Kendal is called the Forbidden Duke.”

Lady Satterfield laughed, her gray eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh yes, I imagine she did. What else did she say?”

“Only that he dances with someone special at your ball.”

“Yes, he does. It’s quite the
thing
.”

Though Nora burned to ask why he was forbidden, she didn’t dare. She’d already risked enough that afternoon and come through unscathed. Still, she could wonder how he’d earned that label. One thing was certain—he seemed a lonely figure. Did he prefer the isolation it offered, or was it a prison like Nora’s own banishment had been?

She doubted she’d ever find out.

A
s the crowd had increased toward the end of the tea, Titus had decided to take his leave. He hadn’t departed the town house but had gone upstairs to his stepfather’s study for a glass of brandy.
 

His glass was nearly empty, and he surmised from the lack of activity downstairs that the tea was now over.
Good.
He could take his leave without running into people.

Although, he might like running into Miss Lockhart.

He’d watched her as much as he dared, and a few times had caught her watching him. He’d seen her laugh and converse. She seemed charming. Witty. Probably intelligent. Or so he guessed based on her frank expression and the way she held her shoulders. Two busybodies had spoken with her, and she’d sparkled against their insipidity.

The door to the study opened and in walked his stepmother. She gave him a wide, beaming smile. “You stayed nearly the entire time.”

Seeing how happy it made her was worth it.

She looked up at him eagerly. “Dare I hope you might come again?”

“Anything’s possible.” But not necessarily likely. He suspected that he’d started to become a novelty toward the end of the tea—probably due to earlier guests spreading the news of his presence at their next destinations. “Are you certain you want such a crowd in future?”

His stepmother cocked her dark head to the side. “Hmm. Perhaps not.” She exhaled. “Pity. You know, you could just overlook the nonsense.”

He blinked at her. “I do. It’s simply a nuisance, and I don’t wish to beleaguer your event.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but it isn’t a nuisance to me. I should endure any sort of bother if it meant you would come out of your shell a bit more.”

It wasn’t a shell. It was a well-guarded fortress to protect him from the absurdity of Society. He loathed the preening and the gossip and the ghastly, careless behavior. He didn’t wish to discuss it further so he changed the subject. “Your new companion seemed pleasant enough.” What a dull description. She was stunning and sparkled like a diamond amid coal.

“I’m quite pleased with her.” Creases formed over the bridge of her nose, and Titus sensed she was about to impart Something Important. “In fact, I’m going to ask her if she’d like to have a real Season—not just as my companion.”

“What do you mean? You wish to sponsor her?”

She nodded. “I do. She was denied her chance at a happy future, and I’d like to give her a second chance.”

Titus clamped his teeth together lest he speak out of turn. He didn’t want her to know that he was well aware of Miss Lockhart’s past—that he’d been part of the machine that had
denied
her. Yes, she’d made a mistake, but her punishment had been swift and harsh.

His stepmother continued, “I wondered if you might choose her as your dance partner at our ball.”

And there it was. Every year, he danced with someone who needed a little boost in Society. It had been his stepmother’s idea some six or seven years ago. It was her way to persuade him to come out from behind his wall, if only for one night, and with such a noble purpose, he’d been unable to refuse her request. In fact, it was because of Miss Lockhart that he’d agreed. He’d seen helping these specially selected women as his penance for the role he’d played in Miss Lockhart’s downfall.
 

Now he had the opportunity to help her.
 

Something about the request made him feel unsettled. Why? Was it because of his involvement nine years ago? Or was it because he found her damnably attractive? None of it signified. He
owed
it to her to give her the dance.

“Consider it done.”

She dropped her hand to her side, smiling. “Excellent.”

“What are your intentions with regard to Miss Lockhart? Does she hope to wed?”

“I believe so. We haven’t discussed it specifically. I only made my decision to offer her a Season this afternoon after watching her comport herself. You didn’t ask why she needs our support, but I shall tell you anyway. She was tossed out of Society nine years ago after she was caught in an embrace with that cad Haywood.” His stepmother wrinkled her nose. “She’s been rusticating in the country ever since, and now her father is unable to support her. That’s why she sought employment. As much as I enjoy her company—she’s an excellent companion—she deserves a family of her own.”

Titus could see the fire in his stepmother’s eyes. As someone who’d lost her husband and her child, she took nothing for granted, and she always sought to help others. “You’re an exceptionally kind person,” he said softly.

“I’m just doing what any decent person would do.” She straightened and pierced him with a direct stare. “Now tell me, is there any possibility you are ready to take a wife this Season?”

Titus had tossed back the last of his brandy and nearly choked. He coughed after swallowing. “I have always said that I shall when I meet a woman who is suitable.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “How can you expect to meet such a person when you attend precisely one social event each year? Unless you’re waiting for some girl in the Lake District to catch your fancy?”

Titus kept to himself at home as much as he did in London. If there were young ladies in the proximity of his ancestral pile, he was utterly unaware of them. The answer to her first question was that he didn’t expect to meet such a person at all. “You are the one who is eager for me to wed. I see no advantage at present.”

His stepmother exhaled. “No, I suppose you don’t. I’m sorry to harass you, but it is my duty as your mother.”

His mother.

She’d been a warm and supportive constant for most of his life, providing just the right amount of discipline and advice when he needed it. She’d been devastated by his father’s death, but Titus had been utterly wrecked inside and out. He could’ve taken a very different path. He could’ve given himself over to his rakish ways and gambled or drank himself into an early grave. But he hadn’t, and he had his stepmother to thank for saving him from the abyss. She hadn’t blamed him for his errant ways and hadn’t made him feel guilty for not realizing how serious his father’s illness had been. Instead, she’d been kind and loving and had welcomed him to share in her own grief.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She touched his arm. “I’m quite proud of you—whether you take a wife or not.” She gave him the soft, gentle smile that had won him over at the age of five. “And your father would be too.”

He set his empty glass on the sideboard, then bussed his stepmother’s cheek. “I’ll see you at the ball.”

Where he would right a nine-year-old wrong and aid the woman he should have rescued. Then he could return to his ordered, mundane life, hopefully freer than he’d felt in nearly a decade.

Chapter Four

N
ora surveyed herself in the glass, her pulse thrumming with anticipation for the ball that would shortly start downstairs. She turned to the side, admiring the drape of her gold satin gown. She looked elegant and sophisticated, and she felt beautiful for the first time in years. And she owed it all to Lady Satterfield for giving her a second chance.
 

Three days ago, following the tea, Lady Satterfield had surprised her by asking if she’d like to have another Season. Nora thought back to their conversation.

They’d been preparing to go to the park when Lady Satterfield had remarked upon how well Nora had navigated the tea. “You came to life,” she’d said. “You ought to be more than a companion. You ought to have another Season so that you can find your rightful place, perhaps as someone’s wife. If that’s what you desire. Is it?”

Nora had stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment what she was asking. When she’d finally found her tongue, she’d stuttered. “Y-yes. That is, I haven’t given that much thought in recent years, but yes, I’d once hoped to marry.”

“Then I’ll help you make that hope a reality.”

“But don’t you think… Don’t you think it’s too late? Even if I didn’t have a past transgression blacking my name, I’m quite on the shelf.”

Lady Satterfield had shaken her head firmly. “I do not think it’s too late at all. You are very intelligent, engaging,
and
attractive. I don’t think we’ll have any problem finding suitors.”

She’d said “we’ll” as if they were a team. Nora had needed clarification. She’d had a hard time believing the countess’s offer was real. “Are you going to be my sponsor?”

“Of course, dear.” Lady Satterfield had smiled enthusiastically. “I’d consider it my privilege.”

Nora had struggled not to cry. Lady Satterfield was the kindest person she’d met in a decade. No, she was the kindest person she’d known since her mother had died.

Tears threatened again now, and Nora blinked to keep them from falling. It wouldn’t do to go downstairs with a reddened face, not when she was looking so splendid. One of the upstairs maids had performed the feat of wrestling Nora’s waves into a fashionable chignon with curls framing her face. The maid had just run down to Lady Satterfield’s chamber for a ribbon to complete the style. When she returned a moment later, she was accompanied by Lady Satterfield, who looked as polished as ever in a gown of burgundy edged with sleek black ribbon.