Page 22 of Dukes All Night Long

J enna was the second eldest of six daughters. She had spent her life in the country, surrounded by sisters. Except for her father, who hadn’t hugged her since she was a small child, no man had ever held her in an embrace. And Garry was definitely not her father.

He felt nothing like her sisters—his shoulders broader, his hips narrower, his body hard with muscle. He must have something in his pants’ pocket—something that pressed against her belly, and seemed to grow larger as the minutes passed.

She liked the smell of him, she decided.

His soap was scented with sandalwood, plus something else.

Something spicy, even a little musky. Did Sabina feel like this about Lord Wolverton?

Had she had these cravings for the drawing tutor?

If so, Jenna had been wrong to feel superior and even a little contemptuous.

How shocking. She was having extremely inappropriate feelings about a valet.

At least the drawing tutor had been gentry, even though far from the aristocrat that the earl’s daughters would be expected to marry.

Her father would lock her up and never let her out again.

And what would Lord Versey say? The man to whom she was to be betrothed?

I am doing nothing wrong . Unless one counted breaking into Carter’s house and stealing items from his dressing room. But those actions were entirely justified.

As for pressing up against the valet’s body in the wardrobe, that had been unavoidable. Isn’t it getting hot in here ?

The darkness was invaded by light, as the door to the wardrobe opened. Parsons whispered, “Sir Thomas has settled for the night, my lady, sir. I’ll let you out of the house.”

A few minutes later, he was opening a little door at the bottom of the tower that adorned one side of the building. It let out onto a walled garden. “Do you know your way from here, my lady?” Parsons asked.

“I do,” she said. “Across the garden, through the gate at the other end, and into the woods, then home.”

“I’ll make arrangements to send a carriage for you and your mother, and let you know a date,” Garry told Parsons, who bowed in response.

“I can never thank you enough, my lord,” he answered.

Garry and Jenna crossed the walled garden in silence. He opened the gate and she stalked past him, her indignation rising. My lord, is it? What is this man playing at?

A few strides into the woods, she could wait no longer, though she had sufficient control left to keep her voice from rising to a shout. “My lord, is it? Who are you? Why are you here? What do you mean to do with my sister’s letters and drawings?”

“Give them to you to burn,” he assured her, answering the questions in reverse order. “I came to see you. I haven’t told a single lie, Lady Jenna, though I will admit I did not correct your assumption I was a valet.” The placating tone of his voice did not calm her.

“Who are you?” she demanded, more forcefully this time.

“I am Garry,” he insisted. “Garry is a nickname for Gareth. Gareth Edward Bedivere James Versey. Viscount Versey, in fact, but of course, it is only a courtesy title.”

The courtesy title for the grandson and heir-in-waiting to the Duke of Dellborough.

“You are the man my father wants me to marry.” It was an accusation, arising from a sense of hurt she could not quite understand.

She had thought they were becoming friends, and yet he had been deceiving her for this last hour or more, whether or not his words were true, in a strict sense.

It was an irrational thought. An earl’s daughter and a valet? Friends? Realizing that did not help.

“I have that honor, my lady,” Garry said, managing a courtly bow despite being burdened with a pillowcase over his back, stuffed full of evidence of Carter’s infamy. “May I explain?”

“What is to explain? You came to look me over, like a haggler at a horse fair.”

“No!” he protested. “Or, at least, yes to the first part and no to the second. Is it so bad that I wanted to see you when you were not aware? At home among your family, acting as you usually do, not knowing I was there?”

“Yes, it is. I always act as I usually do.”

“I believe you, now I have met you. Jenna, since I was a small boy, people have not acted themselves around me. They don’t even see me.

They see the power, wealth, and influence they can gain through me.

I cannot tell you how young I was when I realized that my grandfather’s rank and position will always stand between me and most people I meet, tempting them to pretend to be whatever they think I want. ”

His sigh seemed to come from the depths of his soul. “As for the ton’s mothers! I never go into Society without someone I trust to stand as witness that I have not compromised a girl, not promised marriage, not offered my father’s or my mother’s favor.”

Jenna was trying to imagine it. What a horrible way to live .

“You are not like that, which means my grandfather was right. Again. He will be confoundedly smug about it. He arranged my parents’ marriage, you know. They were much the same age as we are, and both were unhappy about it. Until they met, neither knowing whom the other was.”

The Marquess and Marchioness of Thornstead, Garry’s parents, were famously a love match. Jenna’s steps slowed while she considered what Garry had said. Could he really not trust nor know the motives of anyone he met?

And he had helped her tonight, without hesitation. Without many questions, even. She was returning home in triumph because he had come to her rescue. Should she not give him some credit for that?

“I beg your pardon for deceiving you, my lady. Would you give me a chance to court you, and to win back your favor?” he asked.

“Are you going to tell your friend Lord Wolverton about tonight?” she asked. Could he be trusted to keep Sabina’s secret? Even from his friend?

“No. It is not my secret to share.” He said it without hesitation. “I think she should tell him, however.”

“She said that she could tell him about her silly infatuation, and about the letters, but the drawings are too much for anyone to accept.” They stepped out from under the trees and into the moonlight, and she stopped and turned to face him.

“Do you really think someone else changed them? Rubbed out what the art teacher had done and drew new bodies?”

“It certainly looks that way from the glimpse I had. The man is still culpable for letting them and the letters fall into the wrong hands.”

“I say,” said a voice from the shadows under the trees. “Am I to take it, Lady Jenna, that someone has been threatening Lady Sabina? Carter, is it? I’ll kill the man!” He stepped into the moonlight. It was Lord Wolverton.

“I think we can do better than merely killing him,” said Garry.

Jenna somehow knew what Garry meant. “He threatened to ruin Sabina if she did not marry him,” she told Wolverton. “Wouldn’t it be more satisfying if we ruined him?”

Garry grinned at her, and said, “See? I knew we belonged together!”

“I take it,” said Wolverton, “that I have lost my valet.”