Chapter 8
Eight
Velvet Kisses
My dear readers,
Those of you who devour these pages with your breakfast and a knowing smile have heard the many whispers concerning our most enchanting bachelor, the Velvet Duke.
It seems that last Season, a certain Lady of impeccable virtue (We shall call her Lady X, for her reputation, though tarnished in private, remains spotless in public.) invited His Grace to her private sitting room under the innocent pretense of discussing a charitable subscription.
How very noble! One might imagine ledgers and donations being the chief topics.
Yet, within moments of the door closing with a most deliberate click, matters took a decidedly less philanthropic turn.
We are told, by sources too close to the scene to be ignored, that her ladyship’s gown was discarded with unseemly haste, and the lady in question found herself pleading (one blushes to report) for the Velvet Duke to ruin her utterly and erase all memory of her chilly marital bed.
One can only imagine the fervor!
Even now, perfumed notes arrive at the Duke’s House, drenched in jasmine and desperate for repetition. Ladies, beware of the Velvet Duke’s kisses!
Oh, readers, how the mighty (and virtuous) do fall when velvet meets silk. One wonders if the lady’s husband has noticed his wife’s sudden passion for charitable causes or if he merely attributes her radiant glow to the excellence of her new French creams.
And yes, ladies, the rumors are true. The Velvet Duke is hanging up his reputation and finally planning to settle down. So, if you want to experience the joys that Lady X did, I suggest you make your way to the Hunt and capture your Duke.
More whispers will be reported as they reach this humble scribe. Until then, keep your fans at the ready. The Season grows ever warmer. And, darling readers, would you believe it? Velvet appears to be all the rage in boutiques as well.
— Lady Veritas
Deena paused at the door of Mr. Hatchard’s discreet establishment, heart pounding beneath her disguise. She drew the folded sheet from her reticule and pushed it inside, causing the sleeping clerk to look up, startled by the sudden draft.
“For immediate print,” she said, voice muffled by the cloak and numerous scarves around her. She slid the page and a small purse of coins across the counter. “Anonymous. No questions.”
Before he could reply or lift his gaze high enough to glimpse her face, she was gone.
“Oh, readers, how the mighty (and virtuous) do fall when velvet meets silk.” Austin read out loud with the widest grin plastered across his face. “Hmm. Interesting,” he added with a chuckle.
The Dowager’s library at Greystone Park was a haven of dark oak shelves, leather-bound volumes, and the faint scent of beeswax and old paper.
Austin read the article Dee had written and published to distract the blackmailer.
He had to remember to thank her, but his thoughts kept slipping, unbidden, to their kiss in the meadow.
The memory of her struck him like a physical blow.
The soft press of her body against his, warm and yielding, every curve fitting as though made for his hands.
He could still taste her on his lips, feel the faint tremor in her breath when she’d parted for him, and hear the quiet, helpless sounds she’d made as his tongue coaxed hers.
Those small gasps and the way she’d clung to his coat as if anchoring herself all lived in him now, vivid and unrelenting.
He shifted in his chair, willing the heat in his blood to cool, but the effort was futile. She had undone him with one kiss, and the wanting hadn’t faded; it had only sharpened, coiling tighter with every hour that passed.
What have I done?
A single branch of candles burned on the massive desk where Austin sat in silence until the heavy wooden doors opened and Dominic stepped in, freezing at the sight.
“You’re finding a wife,” Dominic said, voice laced with amusement, “and you’re in the gossip column? How is this going to help?”
Austin tossed the paper onto the side table. “Gossip will help me on my search. And hopefully teach me how to be virtuous.”
Dominic snorted, crossing the room to pour himself a brandy. “You? Virtuous? The ton would faint from shock.”
“Careful,” Austin drawled. “I’m a changed man. Next, I’ll be taking cold baths and writing sonnets dedicated to chastity.”
Dominic dropped into the opposite chair, grinning. “Sonnets. Now I know you’re ill. Shall I send for a physician?”
“Only if he brings more brandy.” Austin lifted his glass off the side table in salute.
“I’m in awe that the man who once fled a house party because Lady Montrose cornered him with a sprig of mistletoe is now determined to wed.”
“That mistletoe incident was a misunderstanding,” Austin protested mildly. “She was armed.”
“With greenery,” Dominic deadpanned.
“Deadly greenery.”
Dominic shook his head. “God, it’s good to have you here,” he said, swirling his brandy. “Though I half-expected you to vanish into London the moment the first debutante batted her lashes.”
Austin’s mouth curved. “Tempting. But I’m staying the full week.”
Dominic’s brow lifted. “The full week? You really are serious about this wife business.”
“Deadly.” Austin took a sip.
“And how go the troubles?” Dominic asked quietly, all traces of humor vanished.
“Which troubles? The trouble of finding a wife or the trouble of losing my title as the Duke of Windemere?”
Dominic rolled his eyes. “The latter. Is someone still digging into your past?”
Austin placed his glass down carefully. “They are persistent. But I don’t believe that they found anything concrete. My solicitors are watching, but it’s like chasing smoke.”
Dominic swore softly. “If you need anything. Investigators or influence with the Lords—”
“I know where to find you,” Austin said gratefully. “Always have.”
“Block out the whispers.”
Austin laughed, but there was no humor in it. “The whispers about my mother’s past haven’t quieted and never will. Someone’s still stirring the pot and trying to ruin me. I believe they found just enough to keep certain lords interested.”
Dominic’s expression darkened. “Persistent bastards.”
Austin agreed.
“That is why a respectable marriage is the quickest way to make pursuing it inconvenient.”
Dominic chuckled. “The search must be going well for you.”
“That’s the funny part. Women throw themselves at me, yes. But to find a wife is harder than I thought.”
“I agree. A good wife is hard to find,” Dominic said, leaning back with a wry grin. “You should ask for help. Grandmother would be deliriously happy to poke her nose in your search. She lives for this sort of thing.”
Austin’s mouth twitched. “Actually, I already have some help.”
Dominic’s brow arched. “Oh? Then you should be fine. Who’s the lucky confidant? Some widowed friend with a keen eye for debutantes?”
“Your darling sister offered to help me find the most amazing wife.”
Dominic blinked. “Deena?”
“The very same.”
Dominic set his glass down, surprise clear on his face. “Deena is helping you choose a bride. My sister? The one who swears she’ll never marry and thinks most of the ton are shallow peacocks?”
Austin chuckled. “That’s the one.”
Dominic shook his head, still processing. “How on earth did you manage that?”
“She volunteered,” Austin said, shrugging. “Said she’d rather see me properly matched than watch me blunder into a disaster.”
Dominic laughed softly. “That sounds like her. Blunt as a dull knife when she wants to be.” He picked up his glass and sipped. “She’s really helping you sift the candidates?”
Austin nodded. “She has a sharp eye. Call it like she sees it. No fluttering or flattery.”
“Good. She’s always been honest to a fault.” Dominic paused, then fixed Austin with a steady look. “Give me your word, Austin, that you won’t make her sad.”
Austin met his gaze, mirroring his friend’s seriousness, he felt deeply troubled that Deena was keeping secrets from Dominic, but he could not betray her trust either.
“I have no intention of hurting Deena.” He spoke honestly.
“I know you don’t intend to,” Dominic said quietly. “But she’s just come home after five years away. She’s… fragile in ways she hides. I don’t want to see her pack up and leave again because someone, anyone, made her feel unwelcome.”
“You have my word. I’ll look out for her.”
Dominic exhaled. “Thank you.” A faint smile returned. “Since you two are spending time together anyway… do me a favor.”
“Name it!”
“Discreetly nudge her towards the idea of marrying. She swears she’ll never do it, but I think she’s afraid more than convinced.”
Austin’s stomach tightened uncomfortably. The idea of Deena marrying some unworthy, dull lord who would never see the fire in her sat wrong with him.
Very wrong.
But he kept his voice neutral. “You want me to play matchmaker for your sister?”
Dominic leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Not matchmaker exactly. I want someone I trust to remind her that not all men are Haverfords. That a good marriage is possible. She never listens to me when I say it. She thinks I’m just being the protective older brother, but she’ll listen to you, and she’ll trust your judgment.
You know which men in the ton are good for her. ”
“And how would I know who is good for her?” Austin asked comically.
“Surely London’s most notorious rake knows which men are not partaking in the same sins as him,” Dominic said flatly.
“Ouch.” Austin placed a hand over his heart and feigned his pain.
Dominic rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“But honestly speaking, Dom, I’m not sure that’s wise,” he said carefully. “Pushing her towards marriage might only make her dig her heels in deeper.”
Dominic’s brow creased. “You think she’s that stubborn?”
“I think she’s been hurt,” Austin retorted. “And hurt makes people wary. If I start singing the praises of wedded bliss, she’ll suspect an agenda.”
“Which there is,” Dominic admitted with a rueful smile. “But it’s a good agenda. She deserves what Selina and I have. Someone who sees her…who really sees her.”
Austin rubbed a hand over his jaw, the image of Deena walking down an aisle toward anyone but— He cut the thought off sharply. “I’m hardly the poster boy for marital bliss.”
“That is true,” Dominic countered, “but you’re honest. Brutally so when it counts. Deena values honesty above everything. And you care what she thinks, so that already puts you ahead of most men here.”
Austin exhaled slowly. “I’ll… mention it. Carefully.”
Dominic nodded, satisfied. “Good man.” He raised his glass. “To old friends, then. And to new beginnings…for both of us.”
Austin picked up his half-empty glass and clicked it against Dominic’s. “To new beginnings.”
He drank, but the brandy suddenly tasted bitter.
Helping Deena find a husband of her own was the last thing Austin wanted. But he’d given his word.
For Dominic, for the brother I’ve never had. I will try.