A Knight on Duchess Square (The Silver Duchesses #1)

Chapter One

Duchess Square, Mayfair

London, England

“Berry, is he out there?”

Lady Berengaria Thane grabbed the porcelain vase sitting atop the small table beside her parlor window before it toppled as her friend, Miranda, and Miranda’s niece, Gwenys, elbowed their way past several other friends who were peering out the window to see him.

“Eek!” Gwenys cried. “He’s taking off his shirt!”

“Cover your eyes,” Miranda scolded. “You are too innocent to look upon that shameful man.”

Berry thought she and her friends were the shameful ones for gawking at this fellow, who appeared to be in a position of authority amid the construction work going on at her neighbor’s residence.

But who could blame them?

“Aah! He’s flexing his muscles!” her friend Arabella cried.

Dear heaven.

Had all her friends gone mad?

“Ladies, the tea cakes are out,” Berry called to them to gain their attention, to no avail. “Ladies!”

Sighing, she set her rescued vase atop her pianoforte for now.

The Ladies Tea Society to which Berry belonged was supposed to meet at a different member’s home every Thursday afternoon, but meetings had been held at her home on Duchess Square every week for this past month because of him.

“Is he out there today? Let me see!” Margaret, a newly arrived friend, asked as she sprinted across the parlor to join the others.

“Would anyone care for a tea cake?” Berry called out again, and then sank onto her floral silk settee to await the meeting’s start.

A booming noise from next door shot her to her feet again.

This was intolerable.

First the constant noise as her new neighbor, a mysterious gentleman by the name of Mr. Knight, reconstructed a perfectly fine townhouse that had belonged to her dear friend, Lady Fiona Shoreham, who was now Duchess of Durham.

Then to have his builders put on a display of their muscles…

Well, their attention was mostly on that one spectacular man who seemed to be the hardest worker, and it had been brutally hot all week.

There was another loud boom that startled them all and had them leaping in fright.

“What are they doing?” Miranda asked, finally turning away from the window to address Berry.

Berry frowned. “I don’t know. Extending the back wall of the townhouse, I think.

Fiona often mentioned her desire to do the same but never got around to it.

It was the first thing that oaf of a new owner did upon purchasing her home.

I am going to put a stop to all that banging.

How are we ever to hold our meeting if we cannot hear ourselves talk above the din? I’ll be right back.”

She marched out of her townhouse and stormed next door just as a massive beam came tumbling off the roof and almost struck her.

“Who in bloody blazes let you back here?” the man they had all been gawking at roared as he scampered down the tall ladder with the agility of a cat.

A big, dangerous cat, for he strode toward her with a look so savagely angry that steam could have poured from his ears.

Dear heaven.

His body appeared to be carved from granite.

Endless muscles stretched tautly across his tanned skin. He had a thick head of raven-black hair that needed a proper trim and piercing gray eyes as cold as honed steel. The dark blotch that seemed to wrap itself around his upper arm turned out to be the depiction of a dragon.

Yes, she could see this man breathing fire down on unsuspecting innocents.

“What are you doing to this beautiful house?” she shot back in defiance, having to peer upward to meet his incensed gaze, for he was tall as well as brawny. “I am trying to hold a meeting of my Ladies Tea Society, and we cannot hear ourselves speak because of all the noise you are making.”

He rolled his yes. “A bloody tea society? This is why you barreled into my back garden and almost got yourself decapitated?”

His garden?

Goodness, what a haughty oaf to refer to it as his when they all knew it belonged to Mr. Knight.

He turned away to call for one of his workers to bring him his shirt.

“If you are so keen to have your meetings,” he said, as he tossed the shirt on and covered his flawless body, “then why not hold them elsewhere?”

“We rotate turns, and this is my turn,” Berry said, blushing because she had just told a falsehood and felt quite guilty about it.

He knew it, too.

He saw through her because she could not hide her expressions, and that harmless, tiny fib showed right on her face. But it was not a complete lie. They did rotate turns, and how dare he doubt her word on that?

But it wasn’t her turn today, or any of the past Thursdays this entire month.

“You couldn’t simply have switched places until the worst of this construction was over?”

Yes, she could have.

She ignored the question because she could not bring herself to tell him another fib.

But he was as much to blame as they were.

Did this oaf have to look so spectacular even with his shirt on?

The expanse of white linen only made his shoulders appear broader and his torso more magnificently sculpted.

“The lot of you have been gawking at me all month long,” he grumbled. “Every time I look up, there are more faces peering at me from your window.”

Berry tried not to blush again, but how could she deny it?

“We were curious about the construction.”

Again, this was only a half truth.

He had the impertinence to arch an eyebrow, questioning her veracity.

Should he not harbor some of the blame? They would not have been looking if he hadn’t been out there dazzling them with his glorious muscles. “If you weren’t such a big clot, we wouldn’t—”

He picked her up by her armpits and carried her out of the garden.

She gasped and grabbed on to his shoulders. “What are you doing? Put me down!”

But gad, he smelled good beneath that sheen of sweat on his skin. Had he bathed with sandalwood soap? Because there was a wonderfully earthen scent with citrus overtones about him.

“I demand to see Mr. Knight!”

“Then you should have gone to the front door and asked his butler to let you in.” He plunked her down on the front step.

“I did knock, but you were making so much noise, his butler could not hear me.”

He grinned. “Yes, Bonham is quite deaf.”

“Then how is Mr. Knight to know when people come to his door?”

“He isn’t, and he doesn’t care.”

“That is outrageous!” How could dear Fiona have sold this property to that nouveau riche scoundrel? “Will you be working on Mr. Knight’s house this Saturday?”

“Who wants to know?”

This man was seriously infuriating.

Berry tipped her chin up again. “I do.”

“And who are you?”

“As I am sure you know by now, because you do not strike me as a man who misses much of anything, I am Mr. Knight’s neighbor, Lady Berengaria Thane,” she said, just as another boom drowned out the mention of her family name.

“Berengaria? That’s a mighty big name for a little thing like you.”

“My friends call me Lady Berry.”

“Sweet,” he muttered, casting her a look she could have sworn was mocking. His silvery eyes seemed to dance with amusement.

“But you shall refer to me as Lady Berengaria.”

He nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Curb your arrogance or I shall demand Mr. Knight discharge you.”

The glint of amusement disappeared.

Oh dear.

He arched a dark eyebrow and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Excuse me?”

She let out a deflated breath. “I won’t really.

Forgive me, that was rather insolent of me.

But I am at my wits’ end. You see, I am holding a charity affair at my home this Saturday on behalf of St. Brigid’s Orphanage, as I do every year.

You cannot be pounding your hammers and tossing down giant beams while I am trying to coax donations from my guests to keep the orphanage funded.

How are we to resolve this, Mr.…” She waited for him to introduce himself.

He sighed. “Gideon will do.”

“Mr. Gideon. I—”

“Just Gideon.”

“All right…Gideon. Is there a solution to this dilemma?”

He surprised her by actually giving the question a moment’s thought. “St. Brigid’s, you say? You could invite Mr. Knight to your charity event. He would halt the construction if he were invited.”

Her eyes widened. “Would he consider it? Or will he consider me rude and grasping, and think I only want his money?”

“Yes, to both.”

“He would accept? But also think me rude and grasping?” She shook her head.

“Please tell him that donations are desired but not required. Any small token is appreciated. I shall send him an invitation as soon as my meeting is over. If he wishes to learn more about the orphanage, I would be happy to show him around the place.”

“It won’t be necessary. Mr. Knight knows it well.”

Her eyes widened. “He does?”

Gideon nodded and pointed to the men working in the back. “We all do. Every one of us came out of St. Brigid’s.”

Berry did not know why his remark brought tears to her eyes. “That is wonderful, Gideon. My father would be so proud.”

“Will he be in attendance?”

“No, he died many years ago. My mother, too. I was orphaned at the age of eight.”

He frowned lightly. “What did you say your family name was?”

“Thane. I am the daughter of Lord Archibald Thane and granddaughter to Lord George Thane. My grandfather founded the orphanage and my father carried on his work. Upon his death, the duty fell to me. It is expected that every generation of Thanes will keep the orphanage funded to honor my grandfather and protect the children brought there. I—”

“Send your invitation, Lady Berengaria. Mr. Knight will attend,” he said with a surprising depth of feeling.

“And will he bring his wallet?”

The cold steel of his gaze turned warm and mirthful as a slow smile spread across his face. “Yes. With his wallet, Lady Berengaria.”

She nodded and was about to return to her residence when this man called Gideon suddenly took hold of her hand and drew her back. “One more thing…”

“Yes?”

He picked her up by her armpits again and planted a savagely tender and scorchingly wild kiss on her lips. “That is for all the orphans your family has saved at St. Brigid’s.”

He set her back down and strode away.

Berry put a hand to her tingling lips as she glanced up at her parlor window.

She counted seven faces plastered to the glass. All of them wide-eyed.

Had her friends seen what just happened?