A Duke By Any Other Name

Chapter Four

W hat had begun as an amusing game had turned into something far more serious. Maxwell had known he was playing with fire when he had first met her, but he hadn’t expected to be burned. Luna had woven a spell around him until he was trapped, held in the power of her brilliant blue eyes. There was no other woman like Luna, and it was not because she was the Duke of Bonnyrigg’s daughter. That had nothing to do with how clever and fascinating she was, and how she always said what she thought no matter the consequences.

Well, she spoke her mind most of the time, but some of the thoughts he read in her gaze she kept tightly locked away. That she was attracted to him was one of them, and it confused her. Maybe even frightened her after all these years of rejecting the men her father put before her.

If he was emotionally entangled with her, then he should leave. Maxwell was not fooled by Bonnyrigg’s affability when it came to his new gamekeeper. Yes, he liked Maxwell, but if he were to seduce his daughter... There was a line and Maxwell could not cross it if he wanted to keep his job and possibly his hide intact.

He was no virgin—he had been with women in his twenty-six years—but he found himself longing for Luna in a way that just would not do. His father would have shaken his head and told him to go now, while he still could. That only heartbreak lay ahead for a man like him, pining after a duke’s daughter. Like a wolf howling for the moon.

But Maxwell felt he understood Luna. A woman like that needed a man like Maxwell. She was like a different breed from her family, out of step with them and their position in the world. He had seen the ache of her desperate longing when he’d spoken of his own life, with the world stretching out before him, and him with the freedom to explore it. They might have come from different worlds, but they were a match. Two halves of a whole.

They would probably part—How could they not?—but right now Luna needed him, and Maxwell swore to himself he would not let her down.

*

Jennie was in tears, one of the maids whispered to Maxwell. He had come by the castle to discuss with the duke that, sadly, the old Caledonian pine tree was leaning dangerously and would have to come down. ’Twas said it had been planted so long ago that most people did not remember. The duke remembered.

“The first duke grew it from a seedling,” he had said, gazing through his study window into the distance. “It is a reminder that although we Bonnyriggs have grown great over the centuries, we cannot escape the stain of the past. And one day we will be asked to make recompense.”

Maxwell had not understood half of that, but he had nodded as if he did.

Now he followed the maid into the kitchen and asked her why Jennie was crying.

She tutted her tongue and shook her head. “The poor lass’s Edinburgh gentleman has called off their engagement. He says he’s puggled and scunnered with the waiting.”

Maxwell suspected the earl probably said he was sick and tired of waiting, rather than using common Scots words.

“Why doesn’t he just wed her then and be done with it?” he said. “If he really loved her, he would ride to Bonnyrigg and carry her off.”

The maid’s eyes widened in delight, as if she was imagining it for herself, but being a practical woman she soon brought herself back to reality. “Och, but her sister must marry first, MacKenzie. They’ve been upstairs for ages, arguing, but she willnae give in. And dinna tell me she is marrying you because I don’t believe it!”

Maxwell did not try to persuade her, and said instead, “Surely she has a right to marry a man she can be happy with?” He buttered some bread and laid some cold venison upon it just so.

“She is a duke’s daughter,” was the amazed reply. “She must do as she’s told and there’s an end to it.”

“Then ’tis a conundrum,” he said with a shrug, as if he didn’t care a jot, and took his piece and left.

But as he walked away his steps were slow.

He felt sick with regret. All his fine words about being free and walking away whenever he felt like it, and here Luna was, trapped in a place, in a life, she could not escape.

It had given him some pleasure to find his squirrel well enough to be released this morning, and he had smiled as he watched it scamper away into the trees. But Luna was also in a cage, and there was no one to let her go free. No one but him.

He turned around and headed back inside the castle, taking the stairs two at a time. The portrait at the top gave him pause. He had heard that he resembled the first duke of Bonnyrigg to a marked degree. Suddenly a plan unfurled in his head, something so ridiculous it might just work. Determined, he set off to find the source of the shouting the maid had spoken of and found himself outside a door.

He rested his hand upon the panel. Did he dare? But he knew in his heart he had no choice. His woman was in there, and she needed her man.

*

Luna had been ordered into her father’s presence, and as soon as she saw the fury in his eyes her heart sank. The war she had thought won was far from over. Jennie was there, too, her face swollen with weeping. The Earl of Strathmore had sent word to her sister that he could wait no longer, and Luna had known then that she was in desperate trouble.

“You will wed Sir Frederick,” the duke had said, as if there had never been any other option.

“I am marrying MacKenzie.” She tried to sound calm, but when her father turned on her so angrily she stumbled back.

“Luna, please...” Jennie gave a hiccup. “What does it matter to you? My heart is broken.”

The duke shot his favorite daughter a hunted look before returning to Luna. “You selfish chit! If you won’t do this for me, then do it for your sister.”

“I don’t understand,” Luna cried. “Why has James changed his mind? Is he so fickle?”

“His family is in debt and my dowry would mean he could save his estate,” Jennie sobbed. “He cannot wait any longer. He has found someone else eager to marry him and he must act now. Please, Luna, please, before it is too late.”

Jennie was begging her, and her father was roaring, and she felt as if she was being torn to pieces. There were words in her head and her heart, and suddenly they burst free.

“I want to marry MacKenzie. I love him. Why can I not be happy, too?”

Just as she spoke, the door opened and MacKenzie himself stood there, his hair wild and his eyes wide.

“I have come for my betrothed,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.