The Duke of Hearts (The Highwaymen #2)

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

EXCEPT HE APPEARED at Briar Abbey that evening.

The Duke of Arthford did. He must have rode fast to have gotten here only an hour or so after she got back. She saw him approaching, a lone rider on horseback coming up to the house. She waited for someone to come and tell her that she had a caller.

But no one did.

So, after more than a quarter hour had gone by, she left her room. She considered putting a dress on again. When she was home, she generally dressed as if she was going riding. She wore breeches, mens’ breeches. On top, she wore dresses that she’d cut off and hemmed so that the skirts stopped, hitting around her upper thigh. The style of dresses these days was the empire waist, so there was a good bit of skirt there from just beneath her bosom all the way to her hip. And she was wearing breeches beneath. She was covered, anyway.

She should have changed into a real dress.

But she thought, Well, if he sees me this way and it deters him, so much the better. I may be in love with him, but I don’t wish him to be in love with me.

Of course, he wasn’t, that flush of red on his neck after he looked her over notwithstanding. He was probably thinking of the fact that she’d been forced to parade around in her underclothes, through the dining room, in front of thirty drunk gentlemen, as a matter of course.

Sometimes, worse, too, sometimes they made her take off almost everything.

He’d probably been thinking about that. That was why he blushed.

He’d never been there, though. Like she’d noted back then, he had eyes for no one except his mistress, the marchioness. She was married to another man, though, but that didn’t matter to people. Her father said it especially didn’t matter to French people, and the marchioness was French.

She checked all of the sitting rooms, and they were all empty.

Finally, she found a servant—they didn’t have many in the house, and the ones they did have were essentially working for room and board, since her nephew was quite behind on paying their salaries. The servant told her that the duke of Arthford had been shown to Mr. Adams’s study at his request.

She thanked the servant and said she’d go back to her quarters, then.

But she went to the study.

She shouldn’t have, because it wasn’t her business to listen in at doors, and it might make her nephew angry, and it was all very irregular behavior for her. But she was too curious. Why was he here?

She had a wild and deeply upsetting thought.

Men came to talk to women’s guardians if they were interested in marrying them. He could be inquiring after the state of her dowry or making his intentions to court her clear.

It was stupid, of course.

He was not doing that.

He was a duke. She was the penniless daughter of landed gentry. They were not even really of the same social strata.

Anyway, she didn’t want him to do that. She didn’t want to marry him, and she didn’t want him to be interested in her in that way.

She got to the door to the study, and it was shut tight. She had assumed it would be. She didn’t even have to put an ear up to the door, however, because her nephew’s voice carried from within. He was very loud.

“You’re positively mad! You think to buy my house out from under me? Where would I go?”

The duke’s voice was soft and deep and too low to be made out through the barrier of the door.

Why was he trying to buy Briar Abbey? What was he going to do with it?

“Wait, how much?” said her nephew.

The duke’s voice again.

Her nephew let out a wild, high laugh. “You really are mad.” A pause. “You haven’t brought that much gold—”

The duke’s voice again. This time she could sort of make out some words. “And I’ll be willing to give you—” muffle-muffle — “tonight.”

“You wish me to leave the house tonight? That would be impossible.”

“Well, how much would you—” muffle-muffle— “if you please, then?”

Her nephew named a price that was astronomical, far more than Briar Abbey could be worth.

“Done,” came the duke’s voice.

“You know, I need to speak to my maiden aunt, who lives here with me,” said her nephew. “She can’t be asked to leave—”

“Don’t worry about your aunt,” said the duke. “I’ll speak to her, if you please.”

Her chest squeezed and she scampered off, back to her room. She should have called for a servant if she was going to change her clothes, she supposed, but it turned out that she didn’t have enough time to change. She was going back and forth between two different dresses when there was a knock on the door.

It was her nephew. “I have strange news,” he said to her. “But I’ve been asked to allow someone else to give it to you and he’s paid dearly for the privilege. He won’t stand for a delay, so just go as you are, I suppose. Tell him you were riding, I think. I don’t know. He’s downstairs in the sitting room.”

She went to the sitting room, all alone, and shut the door behind her.

The duke was there, across the room, leaning against the mantel, looking dashing and blond. She noticed the way his body was shaped beneath his jacket, how broad his shoulders were, how V-shaped his back was.

Lord, what was this? She’d never reacted to a man’s body like this before. Had some part of her just flared to life, like a flame smoldering and forgotten for a long time?

He turned when she came in. He looked her over and raised his eyebrows. “This is an interesting ensemble. It suits you, doesn’t it, though, Miss Adams? You look more comfortable than you did this afternoon. You know, when I think of you, it’s never at those wretched dinners, everyone there drunk and having been drunk since noon. It’s that time I met you out by that stream, when you had your horse. You were wearing something similar, then, actually, I think.” He smiled at her, and he looked handsome and easy.

“What have you done, Your Grace?” she said by way of greeting.

“You came to me for help today,” he said. “So, I think I’ve done that.” He reached into his jacket and took a piece of paper out. “Here. It’s yours.”

She took the paper. She unfolded it. It was the deed, she realized. The deed for Briar Abbey. She took several steps backwards, licking her lips, unable to speak.

“I’ll sign it over to you if you like,” he said. “I’d like it to be yours. If you’d rather keep it in my name, because you’d like to rely on any security it may give you to have my name behind it, I don’t mind that either, but I am not going to interfere. You stay here, on your own, manage the finances as you see fit, just as you like. I told your nephew he needs to be out tonight.”

She could not stop shaking her head.

“It’s a shock, I see,” he said, letting out a little laugh. “I was hoping you’d be pleased, however. Are you not?”

She put the deed to her chest. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you asked for my help and then ran off before I could give it to you,” he said.

“But you don’t owe me anything. What did you pay? How much did you give my nephew?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. I have money. Some of that I was likely meant to give to someone else, but that doesn’t matter either. I’ll get more. There’s always some way to get more coin, you know?” He shrugged. “You’re not going to deny me, are you? Because it’s done. I have the deed. I paid your nephew, and he’s going to leave. Please don’t fight it. Take it. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Why?” she said again.

“Is it not what you want?”

“Why would you do this for me? ” she said.

“Because you need it,” he said.

“But you don’t owe me anything. I’m not connected to you in any way. And I don’t have anything you want.” She paused, looking up at him. “Do I?”

“No, God in heaven, no,” he said, coming over to her. He took her by the shoulders. “Miss Adams, I want nothing in return. This isn’t like that .”

“Well, then it really doesn’t make any sense, Your Grace,” she said, shrugging out of his grasp.

He looked down at his hands and shoved them into his pockets. “I don’t know why I touched you. That was highly improper, wasn’t it? What you must be thinking of me right now.”

“Well, I can’t take it for nothing,” she said, decisive. “You must let me pay you back. It’ll have to be in installments. Over time, I think. But I shall. How much?”

“No,” he said. “You will not pay me back. Definitely not.”

“I can’t take a gift like this from you, Your Grace.”

“Why not?” he said.

“Because it doesn’t make any sense. Because it’s too big. Because I shall be in your debt forever now.”

“No, you will not. You are not in my debt.” He regarded her. “But I see what you’re saying. I would find it unsettling, perhaps, too, being given something like that. I’d like to earn it myself. But I won’t have you sending me money, you see. I don’t need that from you, and this is meant to spare you hardship, not create it. So, there must be something else you can give me in return.”

“Something besides money,” she said, blinking at him.

“Well, I didn’t mean like… that.” He looked down at the floor.

“Didn’t you.” Her voice was flat. “What else have I ever had that anyone wished to pay me for?”

“Fine,” he said. “Will that make you feel better, like you’ve earned the house? You wish to flash me a look at your bare bosom or something? Fine. Do it.” He lifted his chin, and it was a challenge.

She felt this go through her like a bolt of lightning, and the horrifying thing about it wasn’t that he was asking her to do it, because she could sense that he wasn’t asking her to do it. He thought his brashness would cause her to relent, and that she’d agree to take the house from him for nothing.

She wanted him to look at her. But more than that, she wanted to look at him. She’d never been attracted to anyone before, and here he was, saying that he wanted to see her bare bosom. She squared her shoulders. “I hardly think a peek at my breast is worth an entire estate.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and now his voice had changed. It had gotten a little scoured around the edges. He was warming to this idea, wasn’t he? He wanted to see her. “Maybe if I see one of them, I’ll disagree.”

Here was the truth, the very bad and very awful truth, something she never admitted to herself about all of it.

She had liked it.

Not really, of course, because she had also hated it. It had been degrading and embarrassing and against her will. She’d been forced to do it, and she would have never done it willingly.

But it was like her mother had said, that someday she would want to feel pretty?

She’d liked it when they looked at her. She’d liked it when they wanted her to peel off another layer of clothing. She’d liked it when they’d been tongue-tied and wide-eyed as they gaped at her.

She hadn’t liked it when they’d been awful or when they’d called her names or compared her unfavorably to other women, when they’d said her bosom was too small or her hips too wide or any of those things.

But there had been parts of it she’d liked.

She was ashamed of herself for liking them.

“This isn’t why you came here,” she said to him.

“Maybe it is,” he said in a strange and strangled voice. “Why did you bring that up?”

“Was it me who did?” she said.

His eyes widened, and he looked horrified and ashamed of himself. “Wasn’t it?”

“My virtue,” she said. “That might be worth an estate. Do you want it?” Oh, God, she hadn’t said that out loud, had she? She wanted to die.

His lips parted and he just gazed at her.

“Well,” she said. “Never mind. Of course you don’t.”

“I’m not, er, accepting your maidenhead as currency, madam,” he said, his voice very hoarse. “That’s… that’s… well, I’m a bad man, you know, but I don’t know if I’m that bad.” He tilted his head to one side. “On the other hand, maybe I am that bad. And I thought, you know, I thought I was never going to want another woman besides Seraphine, never, and then you , you’re so… Damnation, I’m not thinking about this.”

Her face felt hot, and she looked away. “Seraphine is the name of the marchioness, I suppose.”

He inclined his head.

“Well,” she said, “I likely wouldn’t still be intact if you hadn’t killed my father when you did, you know. B-because he was going to sell it to someone. Perhaps it’s always been yours, in a way.”

“It’s not something you’re supposed to sell, I don’t think,” he said. “On the other hand, I don’t know if I think about those sorts of things the way other people do.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “Hard to explain.” He took a step towards her. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why offer that to me?”

“You know why. So that I won’t be in your debt.” But her voice was trembling, and she also knew it was a nonsensical thing to say, and that no woman in her right mind would offer such a thing to a man.

He moved even closer, searching her gaze with his own. “You, er, you ride to my house to ask for my help, and then you say that thing after I said I was like a brother to you, and then you ask me to fuck you.” A pause. “You want me.”

She started to back away.

His hand shot out and he seized her wrist. “It’s all right, I want you too. Just say it. I’m not doing it if you don’t want it.”

She looked into his eyes and she just nodded.

He nodded back. He let go of her wrist. “It’s because I… rescued you, sort of? Is that why?”

“It’s because of your forearms,” she said. And then she flinched, covering her face with one hand.

He let out a laugh. “Oh, all right, then. I suppose I wasn’t decent when you arrived, was I?”

She backed away. “Look, just keep the estate, why don’t you? I shall go elsewhere, and—”

He cut her off, coming after her, hand on her shoulder, a caress.

She looked up at him.

He kissed her.

She’d never been kissed before, well, not on her mouth like that. She’d had men plant kisses on parts of her body before, but this was different. It was overwhelming and sweet and she liked it. She was unsteady on her feet, and she collided with him when she couldn’t quite stay balanced. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him and dragged his tongue wickedly against hers.

He pulled away. “You know, my friend Nothshire recently killed a woman’s husband for her, and she married him. So, I guess if I killed your awful father for you, it makes sense you might want me to divest you of your virtue. Especially if you’re never going to get married. You aren’t, are you? Just curious, then?”

She nodded.

“Tonight,” he said. “After your nephew’s gone.”

“Tonight,” she breathed.