Page 12 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

I f anyone had asked him, Gerard would have insisted that he was not brooding. To anyone with eyes, it was obvious that he was. Gerard sighed deeply, sprawled in the chair behind his desk, a glass of brandy held loosely in one hand. He was drinking more out of boredom than for any other reason.

There were many things he should be doing, of course, for a dukedom did not manage itself.

On the contrary, it required a firm hand to remain functioning properly, and Gerard was supposed to be that firm hand.

At the moment, he had far more interest in being the firm hand managing Lady Dorothy, and therein lay the problem.

She had two days.

He took a petulant swallow of brandy. Gerard needed a distraction. With a grunt, he stood and crossed her floor. He could call on her.

No, that might be too presumptive.

Perhaps, he would take a stroll through Mayfair. While on that stroll, he might happen to pass Reeds House, and maybe Lady Dorothy would look toward him. Even if she did not invite him to join her, she would see him and be reminded of him.

“I will be out,” he told Halls as he passed the butler. “For some time.”

Halls bowed stiffly. “Yes, Your Grace.”

The man asked no questions about Gerard’s destination, which suited him perfectly.

Gerard crossed the foyer, gathering his hat by the door, and left the townhouse. It was a magnificent spring day, the sort of afternoon which he imagined the poets would enjoy.

There was a thought. He had not tried to woo a lady with poetry in some time. Would such an approach be effective on a woman like Lady Dorothy? He might have thought so if he had known her only as the spinster . Now, he was less certain. She was a woman, and women enjoyed being flattered.

But she was also experienced and confident in herself. Brazen, even. He did not imagine her swooning into his arms over some hackneyed verse.

“Unfortunate,” he muttered to himself.

Before long, he reached Leedway House. It was past the usual time to accept calls. Were the ladies still inside the house? From the street, he could see the empty drawing room. His chest ached.

He could not ask for Lady Dorothy outright, but if he asked for Lady Bridget, it would appear as though he had lied to Leedway.

Gerard did not wish to upset the man, for protective brothers could be terribly unpredictable, and Gerard did not fancy receiving a challenge over something so ridiculous.

Perhaps Leedway was not the manner of man who offered idle challenges, but one could never be certain.

Steeling himself, Gerard walked up the steps and rapped his knuckles on the door. It opened immediately, and the family’s butler gave him a stern look. Gerard doubted that this man would be as forgiving of his behavior as Halls was.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

The butler recognized him. That likely did not bode well.

“Good afternoon,” Gerard said. “I wondered if Lady Bridget or Lady Dorothy might be accepting calls.”

The butler’s frown deepened. Gerard had a sinking suspicion that this man not only recognized him but knew of his reputation. How had that happened? Gerard had only been to Leedway House on a handful of occasions, and he did not recall doing anything particularly offensive during those visits.

“They are out, Your Grace.”

Gerard felt himself deflate a little. “Do you have any idea of when they shall be returning?”

“None, Your Grace. I will happily inform the ladies that you came to call.”

“That will be unnecessary.”

Gerard did not wait to receive an answer. Instead, he turned on his heels and walked back to the street. Frustration rose within him, his loins aching with need.

Sometimes, he wondered why this was his game.

A proper rake would find a cure readily enough; he would find a willing actress or a lightskirt and find a remedy to his ailments.

That was not a game that Gerard particularly enjoyed, though.

He preferred long, singular pursuits of proper ladies.

The longer the chase, the sweeter the prize.

No, he would be forced to endure until Lady Dorothy gave him her decision. Gerard clenched his jaw as he walked away. He considered the possibility that she might refuse him. Even if Lady Dorothy was determined to be a spinster, that did not mean she would not wish to keep her reputation unsullied.

He resumed his walk through Mayfair, his mind working quickly. Gerard’s body burned with energy that he had no release for. He sighed deeply and continued walking. After some time, his walk brought him to Lady Everleigh’s townhouse.

She was a wealthy widow with whom he had once had an affair. Unlike many of his affairs, which ended with broken hearts, this one had concluded amicably. He and Lady Everleigh had grown bored with the chase and thought it best to pursue other interests.

They had not spoken since parting ways six months prior.

Gerard set his shoulders and approached the townhouse.

He rapped his knuckles against the door and produced his card for the butler.

Gerard rocked back on his heels, anticipation humming through him while waiting to hear if Lady Everleigh would be willing to see him.

At last, the butler returned with the answer, and Gerard was led into the drawing room.

Lady Everleigh was there. She was a plain woman with dark hair and brown eyes.

Her life had been difficult, and wrinkles spread like cracks over her porcelain skin.

She was only forty, but she looked at least a decade older.

Gerard had been drawn to her because of her laughter and her wit. She made the most charming jests and was so full of life that it took his breath away.

“My lord,” she greeted, standing.

He bowed. “It has been some time, my lady. I hope I am not intruding.”

“No,” Lady Everleigh replied, gesturing to her embroidery. “Elizabeth, bring my guest some tea.”

Gerard sat across from her, and she took up her embroidery once more. She had already created a charming row of purple and white flowers on the edge of a handkerchief.

“How have you been?” Gerard asked. “I have not seen you at any of the events this Season.”

“I did not feel the need to attend,” she replied. “Instead, I have been engaged in other pursuits. One of the many benefits of being a widow is that you are no longer expected to attend social obligations.”

“I see.”

Gerard, admittedly, delighted in his social obligations.

Each Season, he tried to attend as many balls and soirees as possible.

He enjoyed people , everything about them.

Gerard delighted in their conversations and dances, in the ways that they sought to adorn themselves and in all the little expressions that they made.

He enjoyed the way that ladies spoke with their fans and how gentlemen might sometimes indicate their moods with how they held their glasses of brandy or cognac.

Elizabeth placed the tea before him. “I added the sugar,” she said, “as I know you like.”

He grinned. “Thank you.”

The parlor maid curtsied and retreated across the room, offering them the semblance of privacy. Gerard suspected that Elizabeth was much like Halls—turning a tactful eye away from all her mistress’s less proper acts.

“If you are here to rekindle our affair, I regret to inform you that I am uninterested,” Lady Everleigh said. “I have found another, and he is quite uninterested in sharing.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No.”

Gerard hummed. “I shall offer my congratulations. You deserve to have companionship.”

“Everyone deserves companionship,” she said dismissively. “If you are not here for an amorous encounter, what has brought you to my door? I would imagine that the Duke of Greenway has more pressing matters to attend to than visiting widows and old lovers.”

He did not really have an answer for that. “I suppose that I was simply looking for something to occupy my attention,” Gerard said.

“Oh? It is the start of a Season, and you can find nothing with which to occupy your attention? Are none of the unwed young misses worthy of you?”

“It is not that. I have already found a…” he trailed off, considering the best way in which to describe Lady Dorothy.

“A conquest,” Lady Everleigh said.

“A young miss. She is interesting. Kind.”

“Many ladies are interesting and kind.”

Gerard nodded, conceding the point. “But I want this one,” he said. “There is something about her that I like, something I cannot quite find the name for.”

“And does she return your interest?”

“I think so.”

Lady Everleigh lowered her embroidery and stared at him in disbelief. “You think ? How can you be unsure?”

“I have given her until Saturday to tell me if she wishes to engage in an affair with me, and I am uncertain how she will answer me.”

Lady Everleigh arched an eyebrow. “Why would you do something like that?”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed. “I mean, why would you give her time to consider the decision? That is unlike you. Usually, you want an answer at once. Why is this lady different?”

He hesitated. “She came to me. That makes her different from most.”

“I fail to see how that would factor into your decision.”

Gerard sighed deeply. “She is not as easily taken by my charms as some. She is not a naive, young miss.”

“A widow?”

“A spinster.”

Lady Everleigh’s expression grew thoughtful. “Hm.”

“I want to be certain that she wants this,” Gerard said, “and I suppose I thought that the wait would make the victory sweeter.”

“If it is a victory,” Lady Everleigh said dryly. “Someday, you are going to meet a lady who simply is not taken with you, my lord.”

“I fear it might be this one.”

“And so, you have returned to your old haunts,” Lady Everleigh said, smiling sympathetically. “In what? The hopes that I will encourage your pursuit of this young woman?”

“Honestly, I have no answer.”

“Well,” Lady Everleigh said, “I have a suggestion for you, but I doubt you will like it.”

“Oh?”

“I think it is time that you begin considering options for a bride.”

“You are right. I do not like that suggestion.”

Lady Everleigh set aside her embroidery and clasped her hands in her lap. “I would not call you a friend.”

“Nor would I you.”

“But I enjoyed our time together, and I feel that I know a great deal about you. More than you likely want me to.”

Gerard snorted. “I doubt that, my lady.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Shall we find out? Humor me.”

“As you wish.” He took a sip of tea. “What grand insight have you gained into my character?”

“I know that someone broke you.”

Gerard frowned. Ice seemed to creep into his veins. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it is true. You are entirely uninterested in women, except for the pleasure they can bring you. Aside from your one friend—what is his name?”

“Pontoun.”

“Yes. Aside from him, you seem largely uninterested in having any attachments with men, either. You have many acquaintances, and you enjoy the company of others. But you have so few friends of either sex.”

“Perhaps, I am simply disinclined to make attachments.”

“Or you are afraid to. That is what I suspect.”

Gerard finished his tea and placed the cup and saucer on the nearby table. Coming to Lady Everleigh had been a dreadful error. “You assume much, my lady.”

“You have not denied any of it.”

“That does not mean you are correct.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I am. You just do not wish to admit it. How like a man!”

“That is unkind.”

“And you are being dishonest,” she said. “You are afraid to have any attachments, and men are seldom born that way. They learn to be that way. Someone hurt you, and I have no idea who. But someday, you will be forced to reckon with that, my lord. You are growing old.”

He laughed. “Five-and-thirty is hardly old.”

“It is to be a bachelor, who is not even searching for a wife,” Lady Everleigh said. “You have a duty to the dukedom, which must be fulfilled. You need a duchess.”

“I will find one.”

“When?”

Gerard clenched his jaw. “When it suits me.”

“And I imagine when it suits you will never arrive,” Lady Everleigh said. “I suggest that you begin your search sooner, rather than later, my lord. That is all.”

“I see.”

She smiled with mock sweetness. “I did warn you, my lord.”

“You did,” Gerard said.

“I find it interesting that you have not already married a like-minded woman,” Lady Everleigh added. “You seem like a man who would benefit from a marriage of convenience.”

“Yes,” he said.

It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? He could have a wife bear him children, and those children would be raised in a cold household, where nobody loved or cared about any other person. Gerard grimaced. “I shall take your thoughts under consideration.”

“Which means not at all.”

“Precisely.”

He fought to regain his usual joviality, but it was difficult. In truth, he was unnerved. Lady Everleigh should not have known those things about him. He had never told her.

Gerard stood, feeling as though the ground was floating away beneath his feet. Still, he forced a rakish smile. “Thank you for your time, my lady.”

He swept into a needlessly flamboyant bow, which received an unimpressed look.

“I have overstayed my welcome,” Gerard added.

“No,” Lady Everleigh said. “But you have found something that you did not wish to find, so you wish to flee. That is in man’s nature. They want to inspect everything but themselves.”

“That is entirely untrue. I have met many young lords who only care about themselves. They are their favorite subjects.”

Lady Everleigh tilted her head a little. There was something pitying in her eyes. “And when you tell those men something unpleasant, they hide their unease beneath a brave facade.”

“Untrue.”

“And lies.”

Gerard laughed, the sound more anxious than haughty. In truth, he found it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend that Lady Everleigh was wrong. He was torn between smoldering anger and frustration with himself.

“Good day. I shall see myself out.”

He turned away from her, walking briskly from the drawing room.

“I do wish you the best, my lord,” Lady Everleigh said. “Truly, I do.”

He paused at the entrance to the drawing room, letting her words sink into him. “Thank you.”

Gerard did not wait to hear her response.