Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“ I can’t believe him,” Leah said, not for the first time that night, as she sat on the edge of Celeste’s bed, willing herself to feel tired. It was past midnight, and she wasn’t able to sleep. All evening, she had been avoiding Nottington.
She was sure that if she spoke to him after what he’d done that she would end up screaming in front of all their house guests. But it had been difficult. Especially since they had been seated across from each other at dinner. She hadn’t been able to look at him, which was made worse by the fact she could see him trying to catch her eye.
“I know, it was awful,” Celeste said, sighing as she set down the book she was reading. “I can’t believe he ruined your chances with Trembley. He would have made a good match.”
Leah nodded, although the seed of doubt had now been planted. “Do you know Lady Claire Watson?” she asked. “Perhaps Trembley did treat her badly, if they really were almost engaged to be married until he thought I might be a better catch.” She bit her lip. “It’s true that I don’t want to marry a man who would jilt a young lady just because he enjoyed the challenge or wealth of another young lady better.”
“No, that’s true, you wouldn’t,” Celeste agreed. “And I do hope that Lady Claire wasn’t too hurt by his actions.”
Leah frowned. “But it’s not as if I can be choosy right now, right?”
“I suppose not,” Celeste said, and she studied Leah’s face for a long moment. “And of course, I am livid for you. Nottington should not have interfered--because of him, you might end up married to that dreadful Lord Dubois. Although I still believe that Lucien would do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen. But…”
“But what?” Leah asked, her heart leaping.
“Well… I don’t want to see you married to someone unworthy of you. And Lord Dubois isn’t the only gentleman who could make for a terrible husband. So if Nottington is watching out for you, well then… I can’t say I blame him. I would want to watch out for you as well, if I could.”
Leah swallowed. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and she couldn’t quite speak for fear that her voice would come out hoarse. It meant a lot to her to hear Celeste say that. And if Celeste was defending Nottington’s actions, or at least showing her there was some validity to him, it did make her a little bit less angry at him.
A little bit .
“I think I’m going to go downstairs and see if I can find anything to eat,” she said, sliding off of Celeste’s bed and stretching. “I’m starving and still not at all tired.”
“Alright,” Celeste said, lifting her book again. “I’m going to read a little longer and then put out the candle. I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back up.”
“Don’t worry, get some sleep.” Leah kissed her sister’s cheek, then quietly slipped out the door and tiptoed her way along the corridor to the stairs, then down them, along the entrance hall to the servants’ staircase, and down again, to the kitchen. She wasn’t worried about getting caught--no one would mind if she was up and going to the kitchen--but she didn’t want to wake anyone. It was so late.
Which is why she was surprised, when she pushed open the door to the kitchen, to find she wasn’t the only person awake.
Standing at the large table in the center of the kitchen, cutting up several onions as if he were a cook, was the Duke of Nottington.
Leah froze in the doorway just as Nottington looked up. For a moment, neither of them said anything. He also froze, the knife he was holding suspended in mid-air. Leah was tempted to turn and walk away, to give him the cut direct. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a tentative step into the kitchen and looked around.
“Is it just you in here?” she asked.
“Just me,” he said. “I was hungry.”
“So was I.”
“I could have guessed that,” he said, grinning.
She gave him an exasperated look. “What are you even doing here?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be back at your own townhouse?”
“Your brother let me stay the night in one of the guestrooms. Why not? You have so many, and my house is so empty. It’s much more fun to stay here.”
“I feel as if I can’t be rid of you,” Leah complained, even as she came over to sit at the table. “I didn’t see you for years, and now you’re everywhere.”
“I can leave,” he said, setting down the knife. “I know you want me to leave you alone…”
“Don’t be silly. You were here first. And, about that.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for earlier.”
“Don’t,” he said at once. “You were completely in the right. I was being an absolute ass.”
“You were,” she said, and he chuckled, reaching again for the knife and beginning to cut the onions. “But I realize now that it came from a good place, that you wanted the best for me and to protect me from men who are cads or irresponsible with money. I think perhaps, in my panic over the situation with Lord Dubois, that I forgot I don’t have to settle for the first person who comes along. Of course, I can’t afford to be too choosy, but in my attempt to avoid a man I know would make me miserable, I don’t want to end up even more miserable.”
The Duke nodded. “I don’t want that for you either. And you aren’t going to end up miserable. Because no matter what, I am always your backup plan. And I couldn’t possibly make you miserable.”
He grinned at her, but there was something pained in his eyes that made her pause. Is he being self-deprecating? Does he think that marrying me will make me miserable? Why? He is more of a friend to me than any of these other gentlemen.
Before she could ask him about this, however, he spoke again.
“By the way, would you like some?” he gestured at the onions. “I’m making scrambled eggs.”
“Oh, yes please,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “I’m hungry but I don’t actually have any idea how to cook. I was going to just try and find some bread.”
“Well, you’re in luck then, because I’m quite a good cook.”
“How is that possible?” she wondered. “I don’t know of any dukes that do the cooking for themselves.”
“I don’t when I’m at home,” he said with a chuckle, “but when I was traveling, sometimes I would be forced to cook for myself. Not at the fancy hotels, of course, but sometimes I would rough it and rent myself a small house somewhere along the coast and keep only my valet with me.”
“Only your valet?” She stared at him in amazement. “I have never heard of such a thing!”
“It was unusual, I’ll admit. But I liked the peace and quiet, the ability to hear my own thoughts. And sometimes the locals wouldn’t even know I was a duke! That was surprisingly enjoyable . They suspected I was some kind of moneyed English gentleman, but they didn’t put on too many airs around me. I had a lot of fun with that.”
Leah shook her head in amazement. “I can’t even imagine! Lucien would never be able to ‘rough’ it like that, as you said. He is far too proper and concerned with rule-following. He would be afraid of bringing scandal down on the whole family if he were to travel with only one manservant.”
Dorian laughed at this. “No, I can’t imagine Lucien traveling the way I did. But then, Lucien has three sisters to look after and an estate he was trying to save from bankruptcy. I didn’t have such responsibilities--I could afford to be a little wayward.” He flashed a smile at her. “I need salt. Where do you think your Cook keeps salt? And eggs, now that I think of it.”
He turned around and began to root in the cupboard for the salt and eggs.
“Do you have any siblings?” she asked.
“No,” he said, his back still to her. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about what you said about Lucien having us as his responsibility. And you’re right: it does change a person, when they have three people they have to take care of.”
Nottington turned back around and smiled at her, although she thought it looked a little strained. “Yes, it does. Maybe it makes them a better person. Look at your brother: he had many responsibilities, and now he is an esteemed member of the ton with a beautiful wife he loves dearly. And I--”
“You are a good person!” she interjected.
He gave her a sardonic look. “I’m a rake. Or haven’t they told you that yet?”
She flushed, but didn’t look away. “I have heard that. But it doesn’t make you a bad person… necessarily. And who am I to judge? I was the one who threw myself on you, not the other way around. Perhaps I’m the rake!”
Nottington threw back his head and guffawed . Leah giggled as well. It was a preposterous thought.
“You? A rake? I’m sorry, Lady Leah, but we have a different term for that when it’s a woman. And not a very nice one.”
He turned back around to the fire and lit it, then began to hum to himself as he put a large chunk of butter onto a pan and put it on top of the flame. She watched in fascination as he transferred the onions from the table to the pan. They began to sizzle at once, and then the most wonderful scent she had ever smelled filled the kitchen.
“Oh my goodness!” s he cried, leaning more forward to watch as he began to stir the onions in the pan. “Is that what frying onions smell like?”
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” he said, grinning at her.
“Unbelievable! ”
After a minute or so, he turned back to the table and broke several eggs into a bowl, swirled them with a fork, and then poured them into the pan. They also began to sizzle. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them, or the way they changed color in the pan, going from deep yellow to a softer, more mellow shade.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “It’s like magic! Like alchemy.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “The magical power of fire to transform food and make it edible.”
When he had determined the eggs were done--she couldn’t tell the difference--he blew out the flame and then scooped the eggs out of the bowl with a large wooden spoon and onto two plates. He handed one to her along with a fork.
“Well, bon appetit !” He raised his plate as if he were toasting her, and she raised hers as well.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me yet. Try them first.”
Tentatively, she brought a forkful to her lips and took a bite. To her shock, the most wonderful taste filled her mouth. She’d had eggs before, of course, but never like this--so fluffy and light, and the onions soft and sweet. It was so good that her whole mouth watered, even as she was eating it.
“This is amazing!” she gasped, after she’d swallowed the first bite. “How did you learn to cook like that?”
“There really isn’t much to do in a country house where you have no servants and no friends,” he said, sighing. “Some days I would spend the whole day in the kitchen teaching myself to cook. Believe me, they didn’t taste this good the first time I tried to pull this off. The onions were burned and the eggs were runny.”
“Well, you’re a very fine chef now,” she said, smiling shyly at him.
For a few minutes, they ate their eggs in silence. It was hard not to eat them too quickly, but she somehow managed it. When she was done, she had to resist licking the plate clean before sliding it back across to him. Then she voiced the question she’d been wondering about ever since he’d brought up her brother’s marriage.
“You mentioned earlier that my brother is a better man because he has a wife he loves,” she said slowly, glancing at him nervously in case she offended him. “The way you said it, it sounded as if that is something you want for yourself. And yet, you are not married. Nor does it seem like you are looking to be married, if you really are the rake you claim to be.”
The Duke smiled at her, his lip curling with lazy arrogance in a way that made her feel as if her stomach was filled with butterflies.
“You doubt my rakishness?” he asked. “I am insulted.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to judge such a thing,” she said primly. “But I am curious why you aren’t married, if you consider a happy marriage to be something to envy in another.”
“I have no intention of marrying,” the Duke said, a little too quickly. She blinked, and then his face relaxed and he smiled at her again, all tension gone. “That is to say, I have a full and fulfilling life as it is, and I do not plan to ruin that by taking on the responsibility of a wife. I wouldn’t like to be tied down like that. You know of my travels! I could hardly travel the world like I did if I were married.”
“Your wife could come with you,” she suggested, but the Duke shook his head.
“Perhaps. But I have no interest in marriage. My relationships with women are more satisfactory when I do not feel legally bound to them for the rest of my life. Such an arrangement takes all the fun and spontaneity out of life.”
“But what about love?” Leah heard herself asking, before she could help herself. “Haven’t you ever been in love with any of these ladies that you… know?”
The Duke’s eyes were sparkling with laughter, and she flushed. She knew she sounded girlish and stupid asking about love, but she couldn’t help herself. How does a man have intimacies with women and not feel any emotions about it? She couldn’t imagine such a thing.
“Love is something for novels and chivalric tales,” the Duke said, shaking his head. “It is not something that particularly interests me.”
“Interests you?” She couldn’t keep some of the incredulity from her voice. “From what I understand of love, it is not something that one can decide whether or not to feel or let ‘interest’ you. It just happens, like the rain.”
The Duke tilted his head to one side and smiled at her in a mocking kind of way that made her feel a flare of irritation. “Is that your experience of love?” he asked. “That it is like the rain? Sudden and powerful? Or perhaps drizzling and cold?”
She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I am a sheltered young lady,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Of course I have not experienced love. But you must have, in all your years courting ladies.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t. I have felt strongly about ladies, yes. I have even felt a certain degree of tenderness. But nothing that would induce me to participate in an institution that would take away all my freedom and autonomy. Even if I were to experience love, I wouldn’t want to ruin that by getting married.”
“Marriage ruins love?” Leah asked curiously. “That is not my experience. Lucien and Emery are deeply in love, and they only fell in love after they were married.”
“Believe me, when you have spent time in a gentleman’s club, you will hear many stories of the drudgery of marriage and how it kills affection between men and women. Lucien and Emery are still newly in love. Just wait until it’s been a few years.”
Leah put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “My parents were married many years, and they were still very deeply in love.”
The Duke opened his mouth as if to retort, but nothing came out. After a few seconds he laughed, then shook his head, gazing at her with a twinkle of admiration in his eyes.
“Well, you’ve got me there,” he said. “Perhaps some couples can experience love long-term in a marriage. But I know myself, Lady Leah, and I am not one of them.”
Leah swallowed, suddenly self-conscious, and a little annoyed, despite herself. You asked, she reminded herself. You cannot resent his answer.
“I probably shouldn’t ask any more questions,” she said. “My brother would not approve of me asking about marriage and love and all these unladylike topics--or hearing about them.”
“No, he would not,” the Duke agreed, amused.
“But… If you really believe everything you say about marriage, then you are not envious of my brother’s marriage?” She couldn’t let it go, even after everything he’d said. The wistfulness in his voice when he’d spoken of Lucien and Emery seemed more honest to her than all his pretty, clever words.
“No, not at all,” he said, but there was a strange flicker in his eyes and tensing of his shoulders that made her wonder if there was more to his feelings on the subject than he was letting on.
“Well, I envy my brother for his marriage,” she said, deciding to drop it and change the subject. “I had always dreamed of a love match for myself.”
She felt herself flush as she said this, and she looked down at her hands. When she looked up, the Duke was watching her very carefully.
“Do you think me silly for saying that?”
“No,” he said, his voice gentle, and from the soft look in his eyes, she believed him.
“Even though you don’t believe in love?”
“Even then. Love is probably the kind of thing where when one believes in it, one is more likely to experience it.” He laughed, then sobered. “And I’m sorry you have had to settle for so much less.”
“Thank you,” she said heavily. “I am sorry as well.”
“It does make me feel a bit better about having ruined your chances with Lord Trembley,” he said after a moment. “You never would have had anything close to a love match with him.”
“I meant what I said earlier,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t afford to be too choosy. Don’t go getting delusions that you’re going to find me a love match in the next week.”
“Perhaps not,” he agreed, “but so far, we haven’t been creating romantic situations between you and any of these suitors. Perhaps that is what we need to do in order to find someone who will at least make for a satisfactory husband.”
“And how do we do that?” Leah asked. “It is not exactly easy to be romantic with gentlemen when the entire ton is always watching.”
“Oh, but the ton invented the way to be romantic in full view of everyone!”
Leah was taken aback. “They did? How? What is it?”
The Duke’s eyes sparkled. “Dancing, of course.”
“Dancing?” she repeated slowly. “Dancing…” Of course, he was right. It was a way for ladies and gentlemen to be close to one another, to share furtive glances and brief touches, to have their faces sometimes inches from one another. And all within view of the entire ton! It was brilliant, when she thought about it.
“You’re right,” she murmured. “It is romantic.”
“And none more so than the waltz,” the Duke said. “The waltz is so overtly romantic, in fact, that it was banned for many years. Many of the matrons of the ton’s didn’t like that it took what was subtle and understated and made it so… brazen. But now that it has become more socially acceptable, and is allowed in the ton’s ballrooms, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get closer to several of your suitors and see if they awaken any romantic feelings.”
Leah bit her lip. She knew the Duke was right, but she wasn’t sure she could do it. And she also knew he would make fun of her when he learned the truth.
“What?” he asked, noticing her hesitation. “You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you,” she said quickly. “It’s just that I don’t ever dance the waltz.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows. “And why not?”
“Well, for a long time I told any gentlemen who asked that I wasn’t allowed to, that my brother was one of those more traditional members of the ton who wouldn’t allow it. But the truth is, I was afraid to dance it.”
“And why ever would you do that?”
“Because I always get the steps confused,” she said, turning red in the face. “I know it’s silly, because the steps are so repetitive, but it’s the repetition that messes me up. I never know when you’re supposed to go forward or backward, and I end up making a fool of myself. My dance instructor back home was always scolding me.”
For a long moment, the Duke said nothing. Then he stood up, walked around the table, and held out his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing from his hand to his face, which was frustratingly impenetrable.
“I’m asking you to dance.”
Leah breathed in sharply, but she tried not to let any surprise show on her face.
“Come on,” he said, a small smile cracking his expression. “Let me show you how to waltz. So that you can find your prince charming.”
Reluctantly, she took his hand, and he pulled her decisively onto her feet and into his arms. And then they were dancing. There was no music, of course. It was just the two of them in the kitchen, the candlelight flickering around them.
Until this moment, it hadn’t struck her how very alone they were, how intimate this moment might look to an outsider. The Duke was a very confident dancer, and as he moved back and forth across the kitchen, he murmured the steps quietly for her to follow.
“1, 2, 3, 2, 2, 3, 3, 2, 3…” His voice was a gentle refrain, even better than any music she’d ever heard, and slowly, she felt herself starting to relax into the dance.
“I see what the problem is,” he said after a minute or two. “You’re wanting to lead. It’s an easy mistake for an inexperienced dancer to do. You get nervous and overcompensate.”
“So what are you saying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re experienced?”
“Very experienced,” he said, a sparkle of wickedness in his eyes and voice. She felt chills go up her spine, but she ignored them.
“So how do I overcome the urge to lead?” she asked after another moment.
“You relax,” he said. “You already have, but I want you to relax even more and just follow my body’s cues.”
“Like what?” she murmured nervously.
“Like when you are supposed to move backward, you will feel a pressure on your hands, as if I am pushing you just slightly. And when you are supposed to move forward, my hands will pull you. It’s subtle, but if you are attuned to m— to whomever your partner is— then you will feel it.”
And sure enough, as they continued to dance around the kitchen, Leah began to feel it: the small amounts of pull and push in her hands when the Duke wanted her to move in a certain direction. He knew what he was doing, and in the strong confidence of his lead, she felt the dance becoming natural. She even forgot to think about the steps and just let him lead.
“Very good,” he murmured, after another minute or two. “You’re much more relaxed now.” He winked at her. “You must have been very nervous in the beginning.”
“Why would I be nervous?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “I have no interest in you, after all.”
The Duke laughed--a deep, throaty sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck prick up. He leaned close to her, bringing his lips just inches from her ear. “You are the first woman to ever say that to me,” he breathed, and she felt her legs grow weak.
But she was determined not to let any of that show. Her body was betraying her because she wasn’t used to dancing like this with a man--especially one as objectively handsome as the Duke.
But she was too clear- headed about how to save herself to let his flirtatiousness disturb her, so she just rolled her eyes.
“I can see it now,” she said. “The rake in you.”
“You are surprisingly immune to it,” he said, leaning away from her again but continuing to lead her around the kitchen.
“Well, I know what I want, and it certainly isn’t to flirt with rakish gentlemen at balls and parties.”
“And what is it that you want?” the Duke asked. “Now that a traditional love match is off the table, I mean. What is it you hope for out of your marriage, since you cannot take your time to choose your husband?”
“Well…” She hesitated, sure he was going to make fun of her. “I would very much like a loving family. And I believe that I can have that, even if I don’t love my husband.”
“Ahh, so you want a whole brood of children?”
“Look at the family I grew up in,” she said with a small laugh. “It was wonderful growing up with so many siblings! Perhaps I should have mentioned this sooner. From now on, will you help me find gentlemen who also want a large family?”
“Of course,” he said, but there was something distant in his voice, something reserved in his eyes. A few moments later, he released her, bowing low and murmuring, “That’s enough dancing for one night. You should get back to bed.”
She did as she was told, but all the way back up the stairs to her room, she thought about the Duke--his insistence he didn’t want to marry coupled with his strange behavior whenever he mentioned happy marriages and families.
There was more to him than he let on, she felt certain, but she had yet to discover what exactly it was.