A Duke By Any Other Name

Chapter Three

J ane stood at the head of the Cobb on one of her daily walks pondering the direction her life had taken. According to Charles, Duke had returned to Lyme and, though the news infiltrated her soul, bringing her heart back to life, she feared the ramifications of marrying again. Especially to a man who’d think her easily persuaded.

Had Charles revealed that she’d married Viscount Pembroke? Had the news wounded him so badly that he broken her cousin’s nose?

This was not the behavior of the man she’d known and loved, a self-controlled gentleman eager to impress. Perhaps the tragic circumstances at sea had altered Duke so much she would not recognize him.

She placed her hand over her heart, feeling a guilt-ridden pain so intense she could barely breathe. Fate was not done with her yet. She feared facing Duke, despaired he’d never understand the decisions she’d made in his absence or accept the secrets she must keep.

Staring out to sea, she half-listened as Anne droned on about a local tavern girl at the Royal Standard.

“Flora told Mrs. Tucker that even after livin’ in such primitive conditions ’e’s still a ’andsome, strappin’ man. I quickly told Mrs. Tucker that she was to tell Flora not to gaze at ’im with that look in ’er eye. Wild one, she is.”

Was Flora talking about Duke or Norby? Certainly not my Marmaduke. “Norby is not, nor has he ever been, my love.”

“I’m not talkin’ about ’im. I’m talkin’ about Marmaduke. But, come to think of it, it would be just like Flora to be charmed by both of ’em in ’er eagerness to lift ’er skirts.”

“Why is this any of my business?” Jane despised gossip. Anne, however, spoke freely of whatever or whomever came to mind.

Anne put her arm through Jane’s and guided her away from the stone edge per her usual habit. “Marmaduke is yer business.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Ye still love ’em, don’t ye?”

“And only you can know.” She’d broken her promise. She’d married another. Only a ninny believed that a man could ever forgive such a betrayal. “Time and distance built a chasm between two hearts that cannot be bridged.”

“Time also heals,” Anne suggested. “Ye said it yerself on more occasions than I can count.”

The crisp, cool air bit into Jane’s skin. “You’ve never been good at numbers.”

“Pshaw. Don’t forget ye pine for ’im, and I ken what ye be thinkin’ since yer cousin brought the news that Marmaduke returned.”

“I lied to him, Anne. My father was pressuring me to marry and I had no choice. I cannot restore what time has stolen from him.”

Several people climbed the Granny’s Teeth. She and Anne stepped aside to allow their progress, and nodded a greeting as the group passed before taking the slippery stones, one at a time.

“Ye must tell ’im so,” Anne, said. “Meet ’im. Make ’im understand.”

“He’ll never believe me. The one thing we had in common, besides our devotion to each other, was an inherent need for honesty.”

“Perhaps if ’e’d known—”

“He would have still sailed to the West Indies. No. Duke knew all along that Papa wanted me to marry Pembroke, and that he’d go to any lengths to arrange our betrothal. It was my promise to wait for him that eased his mind. But I couldn’t wait. I had to make the right choice, and that is a secret that weighs heavily on me.”

“That is not what I mean, pet, and ye know it.”

“Shhh,” she said, casting a look in every direction. “Someone may overhear.”

The sea slapped and swamped the pier. Seabirds screeched, soaring chaotically about bobbing ships moored in the quay.

The floodgates to her heart opened and there was no turning back the anguish it unleashed. “I do desire to see him again, if only to prove to myself that he is healthy and whole.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I do want to explain the choices I’ve made, but I cannot turn back the hands of time, and I cannot bear his disappointment.”

“I think,” Anne said with a wink, “ye are in danger of makin’ ’im love ye more than ever.”

“Stop. You are cruel to encourage me.” Pain struck her heart over the past, filling her with doubt. Was she strong enough to lose him again? “I do not think I can survive—”

“Nonsense. Ye are the strongest woman I know. And I should know. I ’elped raise ye to be wise and, at times, willful. What with yer mother’s indifference and yer father’s refusal to allow ye to marry the man who caught and won yer ’eart.”

Their footsteps sounded ethereal on the Cobb as they made their way back to shore. “It isn’t Papa’s fault that I married Pembroke, though he certainly encouraged it.”

“Ye ’ad no choice in the matter.” Anne grabbed the brim of her hat to keep it from sailing away. “Slow-witted fool that I am, I convinced ye to accept the viscount’s hand.”

“Oh, Anne.” Jane stopped and took Anne’s hands in hers. “My dear, sweet Anne. I cannot lie. Duke’s disappearance nearly killed me. I wanted to join him in the abyss, but I felt strongly that he was still alive.” A screeching bird dove for a meal then shook its wet feathers and soared over the Cobb. “ ‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep; the more I love thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.’ ”

The pleading in Anne’s eyes matched her words. “Share yer ’eart. Tell ’im.”

“Tell, Duke?” She stopped short in dismay, a hot tear trickling down her cheek. Emotions she’d buried for so long gripped her, robbing her of the hope that she and Duke and their son could have a happy ending. But unlike Juliet, she was a realist. If Duke found out about Henry’s true parentage, Pembroke’s legacy would be erased and everything she had tried to do to legitimize her son’s existence would have been for nothing. What kind of mother allowed impulsive feelings to jeopardize her child’s future? “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Anne asked.

“I have Henry to think of now.”

“Accordin’ to Flora, ’e saved the lives of thirty men, perhaps more. And the king rewarded ’im.”

“I’ve not doubt of it. Duke has always had a heart of gold.”

“Mayhap it will be easier for yer father to approve of ’im now, eh?” Squeezing her hands, Anne said, “And, speak of the devil.”

Jane turned her head in the direction that had caught Anne’s attention. Her heart skipped a beat as she spied two men walking along the Cobb and realized it wouldn’t be long before she was standing before Captain Lord Gregory Marmaduke. Shocked by the powerful surge of passion flowing through her— the intense desire to run into Duke’s arms, to mold her body to his, to kiss his lips, and sink into his embrace overpowered her, robbing her of speech.

“Lady Pembroke,” Norby said when they arrived and bowed stiffly.

Good God! They already know!

Shame and guilt washed over her. “Captain. Lieutenant Norby. You remember my companion, Mrs. Brome, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Norby said.

Duke added, “How could I forget?”

“Allow me,” Jane said fumbling for words to put Anne at ease. “That is to say, I am greatly relieved to see that you are both alive and well.”

Duke studied her strangely. She’d never felt so unnerved by and undeserving of his attention until this moment.

Norby attempted to smooth the waters by saying, “It is good to be alive and back in Lyme.”

She smiled in agreement, genuinely happy to be in their presence, to hear their voices once more. “Have you seen your families?”

“Aye.” Norby laughed. “Two happier people you could never meet.”

“And,” she said turning to Duke, “do you find Lyme much altered in your absence?”

“Quite,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us, we have pressing matters to attend.”

“But, of course.” Her heart sank into her belly like it weighed four stone. She raised her hand to stop him from leaving then lowered it awkwardly, knowing nothing she could say or do would change his opinion of her. Not after what she’d done. Not after she’d used him ill. “I am very happy you are home, safe and sound.”

“Equally so,” Duke said before turning away to walk back in the direction he’d come.

Norby blankly tipped his hat then followed.

It was done. Their dreaded first meeting was over, the one she’d imagined thousands of times and ending with the same result—disapproval and disenchantment. Perhaps now, having seen Duke for herself, she could put him from her mind for the good of her family and herself.

Disloyalty was an unforgivable offense.

And yet, she could not help but wonder what Duke had endured the past three years to alter him so. What had he seen, been forced to do to make him as foreign to her as obtaining peace of mind?

Once their lives had revolved around each other, no two people more connected by spirit and heart. Now—

She shot a look over her shoulder, daring to catch one last glimpse of the man who still held her heart in his hands. If she offered it to him, would he destroy it? Hadn’t he just done so?

“Don’t stare,” Anne demanded. “Ye don’t want to appear too eager.”

“I am not eager for his attention.” The lie left a sour taste in her mouth. “I’m merely curious about the changes in him—between us.”

They made their way up the Walk that led to the Assembly Rooms.

“’E’ll come round.”

“Will he?” she asked dubiously.

The alternative, living a life devoid of love and friendship and passion and promise did not suit. Not when she’d once tasted euphoria, an exploration of her very soul in Duke’s arms. An eternity seemed to have passed since that night, though her husband had been kind, a friend when she’d needed one most. They had just begun to build a life together when Henry was born and the unthinkable happened. On a sunny day, Pembroke had plummeted to his death in the most horrific manner possible, a crushing misfortune that haunted her still.

“I have lost enough. I cannot lose Duke twice.” She shook her head. “No. That is foolish talk. Henry is the one I must fight for. All my hopes must be for him.”

“It is ’Enry I’m thinkin’ about.” Anne smiled as they made their way up Broad Street to the carriage waiting that would transport them to Pembroke House. “Ye must be certain. One day—”

“Henry is Viscount Pembroke,” she said. “He inherited the title upon his father’s death.”

“But he could be so much more.”