An Inconvenient Duke Page 5

  “If Marcus Braddock isn’t careful, the same thing will happen to him.”

  She choked. She certainly hadn’t expected that! Between coughs, she swallowed down the berry and let out a rasping, “Pardon?”

  “Oh, I don’t mean the boring part.” Harriett waved a dismissing hand. “There’s nothing at all boring about that man.” She murmured dreamily, “I cannot imagine any woman wanting to watch water flowing in a canal when she could be watching him.”

  No. Dani couldn’t either. She reached for her hot chocolate to clear her throat and kept her silence. How handsome Marcus Braddock looked was the last thing she’d comment upon.

  “I’m surprised women aren’t sneaking into his bed every night.”

  No. That was the last thing.

  “He’s eschewed society since he returned, you know. Lady Cunningham mentioned just yesterday that he’s sent his regrets to every one of her dinners that she’s invited him to.”

  Missing the Cunninghams’ dinners was hardly a social hardship, and Dani didn’t blame the general one bit for not wanting to attend. Lady Cunningham was notorious for her overly exotic meals and exceedingly dull conversation. “You speak of him as if he were a hermit.”

  “Just shy of one. Missing all the balls, dinners, musicales, exhibits, outings…why, not even trying for a box at the opera or Vauxhall!” She waved her knife in the air. “Except for last night’s party, no one has seen him.”

  “He’s been away at war.” Marcus Braddock was the last person she should be defending after his behavior toward her last night. Yet she understood his heartache and shared his grief. “He’s returned to a different England, a different London.” She inhaled a steadying breath. “And to the deaths of both his sister and brother-in-law. If he needs time to ease himself into society”—or into one of Lady Cunningham’s dinners of roasted monkey—“no one should fault him.”

  Harriett scoffed as she slathered butter onto a cinnamon roll. “He doesn’t have time for ease.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s getting up in years, my dear.” She jabbed her knife at Dani to punctuate her point. “He doesn’t have much longer to find a wife and produce an heir.”

  Dani smiled to herself. Given that the Earl of Margate had just fathered his youngest child at the ripe old age of sixty, Dani doubted that. Plus, Marcus Braddock was one of England’s greatest heroes, eclipsed only by Wellington, and now a wealthy duke. A man like that would have no trouble finding a woman who wanted to marry him at any age and give him heirs.

  Her smile faded into a frown. Or dozens of women.

  Perhaps Harriett was right. Maybe women were sneaking into his bed every night. Was that why he was shunning society, because he didn’t need to go to them when they were flocking to him?

  She glared into her chocolate. It was no concern of hers either way…so why should she feel an odd prick at the thought of Marcus being intimate with a woman? He was a bachelor who was free to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wished. His private life was none of her business. Even if thoughts of it inexplicably grated.

  “You’re worrying over nothing.” Dani placed her napkin on her plate. “Marcus Braddock is the most eligible gentleman in England. When he wants to find a wife and start a family, he will have no trouble doing so.”

  Harriett arched a knowing brow. “That’s what they all said about Bridgewater, too.”

  Dani shook her head, saying nothing. She was done with discussing dukes of all kinds, boring, dashing, or otherwise.

  “Tell me more about these lectures of yours, Danielle.”

  No, she really did not want to.

  “Who all attends?” Harriett’s eyes sparkled. “Anyone mad, bad, and delightful to know?”

  “No one of note.” Another dodge, another prick of guilt… She shrugged as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. “Canals, you know.”

  “Well, perhaps I’ll accompany you next time, then. What’s to be the subject of the next lecture?”

  Her mind whirled to come up with a topic that her aunt would never suffer through—“The Pontcysyllte Aqueduct.”

  Harriett blinked, stilling for a moment. Then she slowly set down the roll and knife. “My dear, you really need to get out more.” Daintily wiping off her fingertips, she muttered, “Unless you’re seeking a husband in the canal business.”

  Dani smiled and reached for the pot to refill her aunt’s cup of chocolate.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Drummond cleared his throat. “My lady.” He nodded at each of them in turn. “Miss. You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor? At this hour?” Harriett straightened in her chair, offended at the notion that someone would dare call so early. “The clock only just struck eleven!”

  “Yes, ma’am. I told him that you didn’t accept visitors until after one o’clock, yet he insisted.”

  “Well, send him away!” She gestured in the air with her cup. “Whoever it is can return at a decent hour.”

  “Marcus Braddock, my lady,” he explained, a touch of awe lacing his voice. “The General His Grace the Duke of Hampton.”

  Six

  Harriett’s cup sank slowly to the table and clattered against its saucer. “Oh my.”

  Oh no. Dani’s heart leapt into her throat. Until this morning, Marcus had the consideration to respect her wishes not to call at her home. But now she would have to receive him because Harriett would never send away a duke. Especially not this duke, given how he was currently the talk of the town. Drat him! The sly devil most likely knew it, too.

  Her hand tightened around her cup. “I’m—I’m not feeling well. Suddenly. Must have been something I ate.”

  Harriett glanced at her empty plate. “But you’ve had nothing but a berry and a few bites of toast.”

  And was terrible at lying, apparently, except about canals. She placed her hand on Harriett’s sleeve. “I do not wish to entertain him, Auntie. Not today.”

  “He’s come at dawn, my dear. A military man arriving at dawn never portends good news.” She set her napkin on the table and rose, oblivious to the true time on the mantel clock. “Whatever brought him here must be important. Come along.”

  Dani had no choice but to follow her aunt out of the morning room and into the drawing room at the front of the house, with its wide double bay windows and sky-blue wallpaper, its sapphire-blue brocade settees and matching Aubusson rug…and now with a very imposing general turned duke waiting by the white marble fireplace.

  She paused, struck by the sight of him. He’d been handsome at the party, dressed in his evening finery and perfectly adorned, not a single strand of hair daring to stray out of place. But this… Good heavens. He wore tight buckskin breeches beneath a maroon redingote showing traces of dust. His black hair was mussed and his cheeks flushed from the morning air. His whole appearance had the effect of looking as if he’d been out riding and just happened to impulsively think of paying a call. With his stance solid and wide-legged, one hand clenched into a fist at the small of his back, Dani had never seen a more commanding man in her life. He was simply breathtaking.

  And dangerous.

  He faced them as Harriett swept toward him, reaching out both of her hands in a too-familiar greeting. “Duke!”

  Marcus winced at her use of his title, although her aunt didn’t notice as he sketched her a bow. “Viscountess, you’re looking lovely this morning.” Then his dark gaze moved to Dani as she entered the room far less enthusiastically than her aunt. “And you as well, Miss Williams.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” She bobbed a curtsy. Unease rose inside her at his surprise visit, although she strongly suspected that he wanted to continue their conversation from last night, this time without fear of being interrupted by other guests or the very convenient end of the waltz. “It’s a pleasure to see you
this morning.”

  His eyes gleamed, recognizing that for the lie it was. “My apologies for both the hour and my disheveled appearance. I was out riding and decided to stop by. I hope you don’t think me rude for calling on you so early.”

  “Is it early?” Harriett made an exaggerated show of looking at the long case clock in the corner. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Dani couldn’t stop the roll of her eyes, but she also saw the answering amusement in Marcus’s. Her aunt hadn’t fooled him for a second.

  “We’re so happy that you stopped by.” As she settled onto the settee, Harriett gestured with one hand for Marcus to join her and at the butler with the other. “Drummond, please fetch tea.”

  Remaining on his feet, Marcus stopped the butler with a shake of his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have time. I only stopped by for a moment.” He once more put his fist to the small of his back, as if finding strength in that commanding stance that must have been second nature to him. “I’ve come to ask for your help.”

  “Is something wrong?” Dani interjected, her lungs hitching with sudden concern as she sank onto the settee next to Harriett. Please, God, no…not his family, not again. “Is it Pippa or Claudia?”

  “Nothing like that. But I admit that I find myself in a sticky situation.” He gave a self-deprecating smile that won over Harriett immediately but did nothing to lessen Dani’s unease. “Army training isn’t at all helpful with matters of domesticity.”

  “Of course, we would be happy to help.” Harriett beamed, thrilled to be of service. “Danielle and I are quite skilled with domestic matters.”

  Dani slid her a dubious glance. Domestic? The two of them didn’t even know how to boil an egg.

  “Claudia is being courted by Adam Trousdale,” he explained. “He plans to offer for her, and I fully intend to grant my permission. Trousdale is a good man who will make her a fine husband.”

  Harriett gleefully clapped her hands. “Oh, how wonderful!”

  Unease tightened Dani’s belly. It truly was good news, and she was thrilled for Claudia… But what did it have to do with her and Harriett?

  A concerned frown creased his brow. “With no female relatives to guide her through the betrothal and wedding, however, I fear she might become overwhelmed.”

  Harriett’s hand went to her throat, alarmed for Claudia by just the thought of it.

  Dani bit her cheek to keep from laughing. Her aunt’s dismay was solely for the duke’s benefit. Harriett was nothing if not theatrical.

  “I know it’s a great deal to ask, but I was hoping that you two would do her the kindness of providing that guidance.” His smile widened. The man was certainly using all the charms at his disposal. “And take pity on an old soldier who knows nothing about wedding lace, breakfasts, and trousseaus.”

  Dani’s gaze narrowed at how easily he tossed out that request for help. A wholly manufactured one, too, as Claudia was more than capable of surviving her betrothal and wedding just fine. And he certainly wasn’t old or pitiable. What was the devil up to?

  “Your help would be a perfect solution for Claudia.”

  Perfect, all right…most perfectly convenient for him. And a request he knew her aunt would never refuse. His battle strategy for wheedling more information out of her about Elise and Scepter was becoming clearer by the moment.

  “We would be happy to assist her,” Harriett answered quickly for both of them before Dani could refuse.

  “Thank you.” Then Marcus threw out casually, “Why don’t you come to Charlton Place for dinner tomorrow evening? We can celebrate the betrothal and begin to discuss arrangements then.”

  That was a snare if ever Dani had heard one. And she had to put a stop to it. Now.

  “Auntie, while it’s very kind of you to offer our help,” she gently contradicted, “surely Claudia doesn’t need us. At least not until the engagement is formally announced.” By which time Dani hoped to have thought of a way out of this mess that put her and her secrets in such close proximity to the general. A man who could never learn what she and his sister had been doing. “I would hate for His Grace to be burdened with hosting a dinner for us when our presence isn’t yet necessary.”

  Harriett leveled a hard look on her and warned enigmatically beneath her breath, “Bridgewater.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake… Dani surrendered with a sag of her shoulders, seeing no good way of escape. Her aunt would never let her out of this.

  Marcus swung a perplexed glance between the two women. As if realizing he’d never be able to fathom their secret conversation, he smiled. “I’m grateful for your help.” Then he squared his shoulders, reminding Dani of a man preparing for battle. “Before I go, might I have a word alone with your niece, Viscountess?”

  “Of course!”

  “Auntie,” Dani objected, panic pulsing through her. “I don’t think that—”

  Harriett patted her arm, misunderstanding Dani’s objection. “Don’t worry about the hour, my dear.” She rose to her feet, forcing Dani to hers. “There’s nothing scandalous about letting a man call before noon as long as his intentions are honorable.”

  Dani glanced at Marcus to find his dark eyes watching her. She wasn’t at all certain of that.

  “I’ll be in the morning room when you’re finished.” Harriett held out her hand to Marcus. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Duke.”

  He bowed over her hand but slid a sideways glance at Dani. “I’m very much looking forward to it, Viscountess.”

  Harriett glided from the room. Just as she was about to disappear into the hall, she looked back at Dani and mouthed, Canals.

  Dani let out a long sigh. Somehow, she’d lost the battle before lines had even been drawn.

  “Did I miss something?” Marcus asked, puzzled, as he stared after her aunt.

  More than you realize. “Not at all.” She forced a smile and folded her hands demurely in front of her. “What did you wish to speak to me about, Your Grace? Surely it could have waited until tomorrow.” Unless I figure out a way to beg off from dinner before then…

  He frowned. “You don’t seem happy about Claudia’s betrothal.”

  “Actually, I’m delighted for your sister. I’m very much looking forward to her wedding.” But she didn’t want to talk about Elise, and she was certain that was exactly what he was hoping for.

  “Then please accept tomorrow’s dinner invitation for what it is—my gratitude to you for helping Claudia. Nothing more.”

  “Nothing more?” Doubt colored her voice.

  “Perhaps a bit more.” His expression turned solemn. “It’s also an apology for how I behaved last night. I’d like it to be a chance for us to start over.”

  She blinked. That was unexpected.

  “I know that Elise’s death was hard for you as well.”

  Not hard. Devastating.

  “I shouldn’t have confronted you like that.” His expression melted with remorse. “It was badly done, and for that, I am sorry.”

  No, he shouldn’t have, and for that, she had every right to be furious. Yet she was unable to resist the solace that his apology brought.

  “I understand why you did it. I truly do,” she admitted discreetly. “But I don’t have any more information than what you already know.” Please let this go… “Nothing more can be gained by discussing it.”

  A tight smile pulled at his lips. “The invitation to dinner isn’t a bribe.”

  Guilt consumed her. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “But this is.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a little box the size of a pocket book, wrapped in white paper and tied with a pink ribbon. He held it out to her and added dryly, “Although the soldier in me prefers to think of it as reparations.”

  She ached for him. He’d gone through so much in the past few years, with the coming months most likely to
be nearly as difficult. He had Pippa to raise now, Claudia to deliver safely into marriage, a dukedom to oversee…alone. He wasn’t in the army now and couldn’t fight his way through life any longer. She had a tingling suspicion that Harriett was his first attempt at calling in civilian reinforcements to win a battle and that she was his first attempt at diplomacy.

  Knowing all that, how could she refuse to accept this gift?

  Mumbling her thanks, she carefully took it from him, then pulled loose the ribbon and let the paper fall away—

  She blinked in surprise and traced her fingers over it. “A music box?”

  “An apology.”

  The polished mahogany box shone in the morning sunlight as she turned it over in her hands. She carefully unfastened the tiny clasp and opened the lid to reveal the circular brass plate and winding mechanism that made it play.

  “I cannot accept this,” she whispered. Yet how dearly she wished she could! But they weren’t courting and never would, and this was far too expensive a gift from an acquaintance.

  Not looking at her, he said quietly, “It was one of Elise’s.” He pulled a brass key from his waistcoat pocket and inserted it into the tiny keyhole. “She would want you to have it.”

  If it had been any other gift, she would have accused him of attempting to use it to manipulate her, just as he’d used the waltz. But not this. Not even a battle-hardened general would use her love of his sister against her like that.

  This much of his apology, at least, was heartfelt.

  His unexpected kindness warmed through her. “It’s beautiful.” And the most thoughtful gift she’d ever been given. She swallowed down the knot of emotion in her throat. “Thank you.”

  A single tear slipped down her cheek, surprising her. So many tears had been shed that she didn’t think any were left, yet she couldn’t stop it, her heart torn between grief at Elise’s death and indescribable joy that he’d given this to her. This piece of the woman who would always be the most special friend she’d ever have.

  She wiped the tear away with her fingertips before he could see it, then gave the key a single turn. Just enough to play the first few notes…a lullaby. The same lullaby that Elise had sung to Pippa when she was a baby, cradled in her arms and drifting to sleep.