A Duke By Any Other Name

Chapter Two

H enrietta leaned her head back against Landon’s shoulder and sighed. He was so warm, and she was tempted to snuggle closer to him, but she knew better. This entire situation was a scandal in the making. Her reputation teetered on the edge of ruin. It did not matter that he had rescued her and was helping her after a dreadful ordeal. The ton would see her as damaged, and she would be utterly ruined. That was, if word of her misadventure in Scotland ever reached them. Was it too much to hope that what transpired in this remote country might remain a secret? She fervently prayed that it would.

In the distance, a large, forbidding castle came into view. Its towering turrets framed the four corners of the imposing structure, and a narrow moat surrounded it. The water wasn’t expansive, but it was enough to enhance the castle’s austere charm. A small bridge arched over the moat, leading to the castle’s entrance. There was no drawbridge—perhaps a concession to modernity—but Henrietta could easily imagine how it might have appeared a century earlier, when knights fought on battlefields. She chastised herself for finding it romantic, for there was nothing romantic about war. Yet the sight stirred her imagination, leaving her a little dreamy at the thought of days long past.

“Is that your estate?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Aye, that is Rosebery,” he replied. “It’s a fine castle, is it not?”

She inclined her head slightly. “Indeed, as far as drafty old castles go.”

“Are ye not impressed by it, then?” He laughed softly. “Ye need not answer, lass. It’s clear from yer tone that ye are already falling in love with it.” Leaning down, he murmured in her ear, “It’s all right if ye do. There is nothing quite like Rosebery. Once it seeps into yer heart, there’s no escaping it.”

She allowed herself a small smile. What must it be like to live in such a place? “I think I shall manage to resist. There is no need to worry about my losing my heart to your home.”

“There’s no need tae protest,” he said. “I wouldna complain if ye loved the castle. It’s mine, aye, but there’s room enough for more than just me.”

His charm was nearly irresistible, and that was precisely why she had to guard herself. Falling for this man would be a disaster. She knew little of him beyond his apparent kindness in rescuing her.

The thought of her father’s reaction made her stomach turn. He might neglect her most of the time, but the Duke of Hampstead would never forgive her for entertaining the idea of marrying a Scotsman. He already disapproved of her cousin Grayfield for residing in the Highlands, despite his English heritage.

“I cannot allow myself to fall in love with your castle, my lord,” she said firmly. “It would be too heartbreaking to leave it, should I do such a foolish thing.”

“Ye may try tae remain aloof,” he said, his tone laced with humor, “but ye’ll not resist its charm.”

The charm of the castle—or the man who resided within it? She suspected she might be unable to resist either. His charm was palpable, an invisible force she felt with every breath. This man could easily become her undoing. If she did not remain vigilant, she would find herself enraptured by him.

“You need not concern yourself with my attachment to your home,” she said lightly. “I shall be fine. I always am.”

“It is within my purview tae worry about whatever I wish tae,” he countered. “You’re in my care, and it’s my duty tae ensure ye have everything ye need—at least until ye leave Rosebery.”

“And after that, you will no longer care what happens to me?” she asked with a hint of undeniable curiosity. “You only wish to ensure my safety while I remain here?”

“That is not what I mean,” he said quickly. “I would never wish harm on ye.”

“But after I am gone, you will not think of me?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I canna say what I’ll think after ye leave. Perhaps ye’ll cross my mind.” His tone was deliberately casual, though his words carried weight.

They crossed the bridge and stopped in front of the grand entrance. Dismounting, Landon extended his arms to help her down. “Come inside my humble abode. Let me show ye Rosebery, and we’ll see if ye can resist her.”

She sighed and followed him inside. The castle’s interior was beautiful, its grandeur evident despite its age. “I don’t know,” she said, casting a sidelong glance at him. “You mentioned it was drafty and cold. How can I love a castle that cannot offer me the warmth I require?”

“Because, even with the biting cold, one can find a piece of heaven,” he replied, his voice low and inviting.

Landon was undeniably handsome. His dark auburn hair looked so soft that she felt an almost overwhelming urge to run her fingers through it. Of course, she would never act on such an impulse. What would he think of her if she did?

“I shall have to take your word for it,” she said. “I’ve never found anything resembling joy while shivering.”

“There are other reasons a woman might shiver,” he said wickedly. “Mayhap one day ye’ll discover that pleasure and know of what I speak.”

She rolled her eyes, uncertain if he was truly flirting with her. Henrietta had no experience with such matters and doubted she would acquire any now. “I don’t suppose you could assign me a chamber and have a bath prepared? I am exhausted and could use a good soak.”

“Of course,” he said with a congenial smile. “I’ll send for a maid tae assist ye. Wait here for her.” He bowed slightly. “We’ll speak further at dinner. And I’ll send that missive tae the Earl of Grayfield, as ye requested.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, though she was unsure if he heard her as he strode down the corridor, leaving her alone in the vast foyer. She could not decide whether he had been rude or merely efficient in addressing her needs. Either way, she chose to forgive him. He had saved her, after all, and she could not begrudge him for failing to meet her expectations of decorum.

*

Landon strolled into the sitting room, uncertain of what he might find. Henrietta had gone to the bedchamber he had arranged for her, and he assumed she had taken the bath she had requested.

The thought had provided ample fodder for his imagination. Ever since her departure, all he could envision was her, naked and wet—her beauty unveiled for him alone. But, of course, he had not acted on such fantasies. To enter her bedchamber uninvited would have been the height of impropriety and exceedingly rude. If she had extended an invitation, however… Well, that would have been another matter entirely.

He had made every necessary arrangement beforehand. The bedchamber had been prepared, and yes, it was the one designated for the Duchess of Rosebery, had he a wife to occupy the room. He had placed her there strategically, knowing that if—or rather, when—he seduced her, access would be very convenient. Only a dressing room separated her chambers from his, though she likely had not noticed the connecting door.

Landon had also dispatched a footman to her broken carriage to retrieve her trunk. The man had returned earlier with it, reporting that the driver was no longer at the site. Landon suspected the man had gone to fetch help. It would not be long before that odious Earl of Grayfield repaired the carriage and began searching for his betrothed—if, indeed, the scoundrel had any true affection for her. Landon doubted it. One thing he knew for certain: Henrietta deserved far better than to be shackled to a man as vile as Grayfield.

But did that mean she ought to be with him? Landon was not blind to his own hypocrisy. His intentions toward Henrietta were no less dishonorable than the earl’s. He had no plans to marry her; his aim was purely seduction. Yet, even as he recognized her innocence, he could not abandon his scheme. His desire for her burned too fiercely, and he had set them both on this course.

As he stepped farther into the sitting room, he frowned. He had expected to find her there, but the room was empty. Just as he turned to search for her, Henrietta entered with a bright smile.

“Ah, there you are,” she said. “I feared you had abandoned me to this castle.”

“This is my home,” he replied. “Even if I were tae leave, it would no’ be for long—especially with a lass as bonny as you awaiting my return.”

A faint blush tinted her cheeks, and she glanced away. She was not immune to him. That spark of attraction between them would make her seduction all the easier. “Such pretty words, my lord,” she said, tilting her head to study him. “Tell me something.” She stepped farther into the room, her gown flowing around her in a way that accentuated her figure. The fabric clung to her bosom, making Landon jealous of its proximity. His hands itched to replace the fabric, to cup and caress her. “How is it,” she began, “that a gentleman as charming as you remains unmarried?”

“Och, lass,” he said with a chuckle. “Are ye hoping tae convince me of the merits of matrimony?” He winked. “Or are ye applying for the position yerself?”

“Of course not!” Her eyes widened, though her lips twitched as if she were fighting a smile. “It simply seems odd that you have not yet found a woman to fill the role.” She narrowed her gaze. “Is there something I should know? Some dark secret that keeps ladies from knocking down your door?”

“No’ at all,” he replied smoothly. He would not confess that he had no desire to wed, nor that many ladies did, in fact, pursue him. A ducal title—even a Scottish one—held a certain allure. “I simply have no’ found the right lady for the role.” He extended his hand to her. “Shall we go in tae dinner? Ye must be famished.”

She sighed, as though resigning herself to her fate. “I have not had a proper meal in some time,” she admitted. “Dinner would be most welcome. However,” she added with a pointed look, “this is only a temporary reprieve. I have many questions for you.”

He suppressed a grin. She did not even know he was a duke yet, and already her curiosity seemed endless. Once she discovered his title, her questions would likely double. He had no qualms about evading whatever queries she posed.

“Ask me anything ye wish,” he said. “I have nothing tae hide.” Taking her hand, he placed it in the crook of his arm and led her from the sitting room.

They walked in companionable silence to the dining room. Pulling out a chair for her, he waited until she was seated before taking his place at the head of the table. This was not the formal dining room but the smaller, more intimate one used for family meals. He rarely dined there alone, but it seemed fitting for the occasion. “Now,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “tell me about yerself. Why are ye traveling tae the earl’s estate?”

“Are you acquainted with the Earl of Grayfield?” she asked.

He grinned at her as he thought of his rival. “We have met,” he said. “It would be hard no’ tae have. He is my closest neighbor.”

And they loathed each other.

“Then we are that close?” Henrietta lifted a brow. “Good. It should be simple enough for him to retrieve me on the morrow.”

Like hell he would. Landon’s jaw tightened at the thought of Grayfield coming anywhere near Henrietta. His Henrietta . That man was not going to be anywhere near her.

When had he started thinking of her as his? That was dangerous.

He stewed silently, grappling with thoughts he did not care to examine. This situation was becoming far more complicated than he had anticipated. He had much to consider, and he did not like the direction of his thoughts. This was not good at all…