CHAPTER NINE
When Oliver’s carriage pulled up outside Greenwich House, he was glad it was now, not the last time he had visited.
That visit had been disastrous, except for noticing a beautiful sprite peeking through doorways.
Today, he was here to see the sprite, Miss Windham.
Her face had visited his dreams nightly since his eyes had fallen upon her lovely face.
He hadn’t felt glad at the time, but how fortunate he was today that Lady Greenwich had turned down his offer to court her eldest daughter.
Him being the Duke of Doom, she wouldn’t sacrifice any of her daughters to his curse.
How grateful he was indeed that she was willing to sacrifice her niece.
Following the butler into the drawing room and being announced, he felt his heart speed up when his eyes fell on Miss Windham.
Lady Greenwich ruined his excitement by insisting he sit with her, making him wonder what she was up to.
Now seated beside Lady Greenwich, as far away from her as the settee would allow, he shivered at the devious look in her eyes.
Indeed, she fluttered her lashes and smiled, but it was all false.
Even if Miss Windham hadn’t told him about Lady Greenwich, he would have known she was devious.
The question was, what was she hiding? And why was she being cordial to him when she had treated him no better than an unwanted cur before?
“Your Grace,” the countess said. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot the other day. I hope you can forgive my impertinence.”
“All is forgiven,” he said, trying to look as if he meant it.
“Lord Greenwich and I spoke this morning, and I’ve decided to allow you to choose one of our three beautiful and talented daughters to court.
Or, if you’d prefer to skip straight to marriage, Greenwich is in his study.
You can go to him and negotiate the wedding contract for whichever daughter you so desire. ”
She’d caught him off guard, even though he shouldn’t have been.
Now she would agree to a courtship with one of her daughters?
No doubt because he wanted to court Miss Windham, and she could not abide it.
“While I’m flattered that you have offered up one of your daughters to me, I’m only interested in Miss Windham. ”
She wasn’t very good at schooling her anger. “I don’t understand. My daughters are beautiful, have pristine reputations, and come with a substantial dowry. Why would you want that little mouse of a girl who grew up in a gutter and has no dowry?”
“Please be very careful how you speak of Miss Windham,” he said through clenched teeth. “She may be your niece, but in time she will become my duchess.” He stood, adjusted his shirt sleeves, and bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to speak with her.”
He pivoted around and could feel her eyes like daggers slicing across his back, shredding his favorite brown riding jacket.
The sooner he married Miss Windham, the better he would feel.
He hated knowing she was living with that woman, and that woman was responsible for her.
His only relief came from knowing Lady Emma cared for Miss Windham and was her ally.
And, according to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, would risk ruination to help her.
He approached the chair where Miss Windham sat and bowed. “Miss Windham, how lovely to see you.”
“It is a pleasure to see you. Please have a seat.”
He sank into the chair next to hers and tried to calm his racing heart. He leaned forward and said, “Do you think your aunt would allow us to visit the gardens if Lady Emma accompanied us?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Excuse me.” He rose and stiffened his spine to face her again. “Lady Greenwich, with your permission, I would like very much to stroll through the gardens with Miss Windham. With a chaperone, of course.”
She grimaced. She did not like that he was interested in her niece.
“Emma, be a dear and accompany the duke and Phoebe for a walk in the gardens. See that they behave and are never alone even for a second.”
What did she think they would do in broad daylight?
And who did she think he was, a young buck straight out of university who couldn’t control himself, rather than a duke married three times over?
The truth was, he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless, and Lady Greenwich’s warning wouldn’t deter him.
What would deter him was the idea of frightening Miss Windham.
She alone would keep his amorous feelings under control.
Nothing the countess said mattered to him at all.
Both Phoebe and Emma perked up, and so did he. Anything to get away from the lady of the house.
He approached Miss Windham and offered his arm. “May I?”
She rose and slipped her arm through his elbow, and his insides quieted.
One touch from Miss Windham and his nerves calmed; at the same time, his body hummed with awareness.
Lady Emma led the way through the double doors onto the veranda and down the stairs onto the crushed-stone pathway leading into the glorious gardens.
He refused to give the earl and countess any credit. It belonged to the gardeners alone.
Once they entered the fragrant gardens, Emma fell back about ten paces, giving them privacy to talk. “Is your aunt being any kinder to you?”
“She knew I’d sneaked out last night, but she believed my lie, or at least pretended to. Other than that, this is the first time I’ve seen her since Greenwich called me into his study to say you were coming for tea and wished to court me.”
“Good. The less time you spend in her company, the better. I don’t trust her. There’s something in her eyes that doesn’t sit well with me. It makes my skin crawl and contradicts the words coming out of her prune-like lips.”
“Hmm, this is not new information to me. I’ve known of her cruelty since arriving.”
He paused on the path, turned to her, took both her hands in his, and looked deep into her soft-green eyes. “Promise me you will stay away from her, if at all possible.”
“I promise.”
It was the first time he had seen her in the daylight, and she was more beautiful than he had thought.
Her deep auburn hair had blonde highlights, her green eyes were nearly blue, and she had a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose he had never noticed before.
She literally took his breath away in the best way.
Warmth encased his heart, and at that moment, he wished to spend the rest of his life with her.
He fought the urge to pull her close and encase her in his strong, protective arms. Instead, he squeezed her hands, smiled, and winked.
All of which cast a pretty pink blush on her skin.
Then he did something spontaneous. He leaned down and took her lips in a soft kiss.
Her lips tasted of honey, and he wished he could lose himself in them, but now was not the time.
He raised his head and stroked his fingers down her soft cheek, making her blush deepen.
“I spoke to my friend, the Earl of Hudson, about him and his sister, Lady Julia, hosting a small dinner party tomorrow night. Consider this your personal invitation.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For thinking of me.”
“It is purely selfish on my part,” he said, releasing her hands, slipping her arm through his, and walking deeper into the gardens. “I want to spend time with you, help you feel comfortable with me before we wed. I would like that to happen soon rather than later, if you are agreeable.”
***
Agreeable? At this very moment, it was the only thing she could think about.
When he took her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes, she felt a deep yearning.
His kind, compassionate golden-brown eyes stirred something inside her she wanted to explore.
She didn’t believe marrying him would be a hardship.
Nor did the curse frighten her. She didn’t believe in such things.
How could this handsome, affable, and generous gentleman be cursed?
His wives died under unfortunate circumstances, none of which were his fault.
“Last night, I told Mrs. Dove-Lyon that I needed time to get to know you before I agreed to a marriage. However, due to my aunt’s strange behavior today, I accept your marriage offer and think it’s best if we marry quickly and secretly.
” Having spoken the words out loud to the duke, she felt her muscles, which had been tightly knotted, begin to untwist and ease.
“We’ll talk more about it at the dinner party, but I’ll plan to get a special license.” He patted the hand of the arm wrapped around his. “Until our marriage takes place, stay out of her way.”
“I will.”
“You bared your soul to me last night. Told me your life story. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
Everything. “Besides being a widower three times, what defines you?”
His lips twitched up. “No one, besides my closest friends, sees anything but my being a widower. The Duke of Doom.” He paused and brushed his lips across her cheek.
“Thank you for seeing there is a man beneath all the gossip. I love to ride my horse, Wind. I love my country estate.” He frowned.
“At least I did until my three wives died there. Now I avoid the place like the plague. I’ve a mind to purchase a small estate and perhaps retire to the country. That is, if it’s agreeable to you?”
Since she’d lived nowhere other than London, and really didn’t love the crowds, the stench, and the filth, the country sounded like heaven. “I would be agreeable to that.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Ah, we have returned.”
So engrossed in their conversation, she hadn’t realized they had completed the loop through the gardens and were back at the veranda.
She wasn’t ready for him to leave. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again.
Her first real kiss. The drunkards on the street trying to steal kisses were just plain vile.
Her stomach tightened. It wasn’t the first time she’d had an ominous premonition about her future, but this one was more intense.
If she begged him to take her away now, would he?
Most likely, but she wouldn’t put him in that precarious situation.
When he held the special license in hand, it would be good enough.
Until then, she would have to believe in him, believe she had some good luck coming her way, and be patient. And stay away from her aunt.
They entered the drawing room, and Phoebe’s insides froze at the hatred she glimpsed in her aunt’s eyes.
If only she understood where it came from.
Was it residual, because her aunt hated her father and mother, and therefore hated her?
It was likely she would never know. Once she was gone from this house for good, it wouldn’t matter anymore.
“You have returned,” her aunt sneered. She waved her arm to a footman standing at the entrance to the room. “Please see His Grace out.”
“One moment, please,” Weston said to her aunt as he took an invitation from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “An invitation to a small dinner party tomorrow evening. I hope you’ll come. It will give me time to get to know you, your lovely daughters, and Miss Windham better.”
“I will consider it,” Lady Greenwich said.
There was no time for a proper goodbye before he was escorted from the drawing room.
Phoebe shouldn’t have been shocked by her aunt’s breach of proper etiquette or rudeness toward Weston, but she was.
No wonder they didn’t receive many social invitations.
Who would want to host or befriend such a lady?
Her aunt glared at her. “Leave us.”
Without a word, Phoebe left and hurried to her room, flopping onto the bed and pushing her aunt out of her mind.
Her thoughts then centered on the duke, Oliver.
She remembered hearing his given name was Oliver.
He was the most handsome man she’d ever encountered.
Not that she had encountered many. His dark hair was thick and wavy, and it got tangled in his jacket collar.
She couldn’t wait to run her fingers through his hair.
Where had that thought come from? His golden-brown eyes didn’t hold a speck of unkindness.
Not true. When he looked at her aunt, they did.
She hugged herself and quivered. Her aunt had serious anger and hate issues.
As she lay there, the tightness in her chest eased, and her breathing slowed. When her eyelids closed, she welcomed sleep.
She couldn’t believe she’d slept through the entire night, but the lightness of the sky shining through the curtains proved she had.
Sitting up, she stretched and winced at the wrinkled mess she’d made of her day dress.
After taking care of her morning needs, she washed up and put on a blue day dress.
Entering the kitchen, she fixed a plate of poached eggs and toast, poured a cup of coffee, and sat at the long wooden table with several servants.
After Phoebe finished eating, she washed her plate and went back upstairs to her room, wondering how she would pass the time.
She could go to Emma’s room. No, she thought, she was probably still asleep since it was barely seven.
Somehow, she found little things here and there to keep her busy throughout the day.