Page 28
Story: Dukes All Summer Long
“I can’t think why,” the duke said, some three days later, as he gazed out to sea, “but I have this urge to stretch out on the sand and fall asleep.”
“Exhaustion,” Elaine said wisely, “from an excess of Vales.”
They had dined last night at Black Hill with a vast array of her brother’s in-laws, who included her old friend and companion Antonia, now Lady Vale.
Everyone had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, but the Vales were all strong characters and en masse could leave a non-Vale feeling overwhelmed and bewildered—a fact that the over-curious young twins took shameful advantage of.
“I like your Vales,” the duke said, lounging back on one elbow.
Together with Joe and Jenny, who were throwing stones into the sea and trying to make them skim over the waves, they had been enjoying an al fresco luncheon on the beach. Which, together with the warmth of the sun, was another reason for sleepiness.
“I understand they like you, too.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“The twins told me.” Which held a significance for Elaine she was reluctant to explain, for she strongly suspected them of taking a hand in the positive spate of marriages last year among the Vale siblings.
Fortunately, perhaps, the duke changed the subject, saying rather abruptly, “She is good for him.”
Elaine did not pretend to misunderstand. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You saw it all along, didn’t you? And this little holiday was always your plan to make me see it too.”
She could not deny it. “Close to neither, I could be more dispassionate. And away from her family, I suspect Jenny shines brighter. Why are they so against the match? Would a future duchess in their family not make them proud?”
“No, it would give poor, despised Jenny precedence over her aunt,” Drimmen said wryly. “And I…I did not want some foolish match for him that he would regret. But you were right. I was influenced too by the success of my own arranged marriage.”
“Were you faithful to your wife?” Elaine asked, and then, appalled at herself, blushed to the roots of her hair. “I’m sorry, that was unforgivably rude and absolutely none of my business. Forgive me.”
He sat up, amusement dancing in his eyes, which were now not hard at all.
“There is nothing to forgive. I am grateful for the question. And yes, I was. At first on a temporary basis so as to cause her no humiliation, and then because I wanted to be. I was even celibate for several years after she died, though I would not like you to think of me as a saint.”
“Sir, I should not—”
“I am merely, you see, faithful by nature.”
Her heart jolted. Why was he telling her this? Panic surged up for no possible reason, and as though he saw it, he stretched out on his back in the sand, eyes closed. Leaving her free to gaze at his face in wonder. And to ache for what could never be…
*
Joe woke to darkness and the knowledge of another presence in his room. He could not yet hope that it was Jenny. Besides, this one smelled wrong. Very wrong.
He sprang bolt upright, just as a figure flew out of the darkness and punched his pillow with such force that feathers filled the air.
From sheer instinct, Joe yanked the unknown pillow assailant back by the shoulder and hurled him off the bed, landing on top of him on the floor with a mighty crash.
As he raised his fist to strike, something cold and sharp whistled along the side of his other hand. A blade!
Joe rolled away from it, springing to his feet. So did his assailant, who stood now between Joe and the door, panting and poised to attack again.
“Who the devil are you and what do you want with me?” Joe demanded, grabbing up his coat from the chair in the faint hope that it might protect his arm as he fought his way past.
“Nothing personal,” his attacker replied, and lunged.
Joe sidestepped in the nick of time, only to realize it was a feint on his opponent’s part, for the knife was plunging toward him again, and he, wrong footed, could only fling up his coat-wrapped arm in defense.
At the same time, his bedchamber door flew open, flooding the dark room with sudden light. But this all seemed to be a nightmare, for the new figure was his uncle, and he too attacked Joe, hurling him to the floor with his entire body launched from the doorway.
And then, from the floor, Joe saw the knife sticking out of his uncle’s shoulder.
And Drimmen, like an avenging angel, powered a fist into the assailant’s face.
The man went down like a stone.
“Joe!” Jenny cried, rushing toward him—where the devil had she come from? The room seemed to be full of people and light and noise.
Through it all, Joe met his uncle’s gaze, a sudden lump of fear in his throat. And knowledge. “Oh, Uncle Drim,” he croaked.
*
Elaine, who could not sleep for the thoughts and emotions in her head, had risen to find her book, carrying only one candle with her. Even so, as if it had disturbed Jenny, the girl emerged from her own bedchamber, similarly dressed in nightgown and robe, although Jenny’s was too small for her.
“Can’t you sleep either?” the girl asked. “I wanted to say… Do you think His Grace is changing his mind about our marriage?”
“Even if he is,” Elaine pointed out, “it is your family you really need to convince. You are the one not of age.”
“His Grace is the only person capable of persuading them. And he could do it in a heartbeat if he—”
At that point, she was cut off by an almighty crash from beyond the sitting room door.
Jenny’s eyes widened as she stared at Elaine in the gloom. “That sounded like—”
“Joe’s room.” Which he had moved into to give his uncle the slightly larger one next door.
Jenny wrenched open the door and they spilled into the passage, which was always dimly lit at night but now seemed to be illuminated like a ballroom as several well-dressed guests plus a few in nightclothes had gathered there in response to the crash.
As one, Elaine and Jenny cut through them and shoved open Joe’s door, which was ajar, all but falling into the room.
A strange man lay on the floor. Joe, with something dripping sluggishly from his hand, stood staring at his uncle in horror and something very like awe. He seemed to be frozen.
Something was wrong with the duke’s shoulder. Something was sticking out of it. Some kind of handle above a…blade.
“Oh dear God,” Elaine whispered, stumbling toward him.
Adding to her unreality, he casually pulled the blade free and clapped his handkerchief over it. “It’s a scratch,” he said, dropping the knife to the floor and taking her into his good arm.
He dropped his head and kissed her very thoroughly, an experience that shook her to her core—not least because fears, emotions, anxieties, and desires crystalized quite suddenly into shocking, overwhelming knowledge.
With a sob, she pulled her mouth free. “Joe, send for Dr. Lampton!”
“Just a stout porter or two will do,” the duke said casually, waving one dismissive hand at the man on the floor. “We appear to have apprehended a burglar. I found Joe fighting with him, and he is now in need of the magistrate.”
He seemed to become aware of the crowd of strangers for the first time. “Thank you for your concern. All is now well.”
One overdressed woman peered contemptuously at Elaine and sniffed.
“There need be no gossip,” the duke said mildly. “Miss Talbot and I are betrothed.”
“Are you, Miss T.?” Joe asked, intrigued and quite clearly astonished.
The duke’s lips skimmed her ear. “Aphrodite. Please say yes. I love you.”
Over the years, she had risen to many a difficult challenge, but nothing had ever been quite as hard as summoning enough breath and insouciance to say, “Of course we are, silly boy.”
*
Of course, she said it to appease the scandal mongers. She could wriggle out of it later—if she were strong enough, for she knew honor would compel the duke to go through with it.
With the curious expelled from the room, and the would-be assassin groggily clutching his head between two large constables, Elaine set about washing and dressing the duke’s wound, while he leaned his hip against a table.
With his shirt torn open to expose his shoulder, she was terrified by his vulnerability.
And hers. At least the wound did not appear be as deep as she feared, though who knew what damage the blade had caused beneath the surface?
She spared Joe a quick glance. By the light of all the lamps and candles systematically lit by Jenny, his face was white. He held a clean handkerchief over a shallow cut to his hand.
“He took the blow for me,” Joe said hoarsely. “If he dies—”
“He is not going to die,” Elaine said calmly, applying a dressing to the duke’s shoulder. “And I think you already know he always looks after you.”
“Even when I’m wrong, I’m trying,” the duke said lightly.
“I know.” Joe choked out the words. “And God, you were wrong this time!”
“No, I wasn’t. Look, the knife barely broke my skin. My clothes held it in place.”
“I still think you should see Dr. Lampton,” Elaine said.
“Tomorrow,” the duke said peaceably. “Right now, would someone please kick that miscreant and find out who sent him?”
“ Sent him?” Joe repeated, startled. “Can’t he burgle on his own account?”
“He certainly didn’t, did he? He hasn’t taken anything. Just tried to kill you while you slept.”
This was a point Elaine had not yet noticed, having other matters on her mind. But the duke appeared to be right, because the constables had found nothing incriminating on the intruder.
“I’d have collected the valuables after,” the would-be burglar said with an attempt at professional dignity.
“Taking pride in your work, Billy?” one of the constables mocked. “You certainly messed up this time. Trying to kill a duke’s a hanging matter.”
“Sadly, I’m not a duke,” Joe said to Billy. “ And I’m not in favor of execution either, so you might get off.”
“It wasn’t you he came to kill, though,” the duke said, his gaze steady on Elaine’s face. “I rather think our room swap bamboozled him. Did Bandy send you, Billy?”
“Bandy?” Joe said. “The man who insulted Jenny?”
The duke moved his gaze to the disreputable would-be assassin, who muttered, “I don’t like names. No idea who he was. And you must admit, I didn’t try very hard to kill either of you.”
“I might say that in my witness statement if I knew the truth of who sent you.”
The constable took hold of Billy and shook him like a rat. “Where’s your brains, idiot? Don’t die for a flash coward who pays you coppers to do his dirty business while he strolls free.”
Billy didn’t speak for several moments. Then he said sullenly, “I’ll take you. I made sure to find out where he lived. In case I didn’t get paid.”
“Excellent,” the duke said, straightening as Elaine began to wind the bandage around his body. “I’ll come with you.”
“You will not,” she said, pushing him back against the table by his good shoulder. “It’s either straight to your own bed, or straight to Dr. Lampton.”
Joe grinned for the first time that hour. “You really are engaged, aren’t you? Congratulations, Drim.”
*
“I can’t,” Elaine said with difficulty, once they were alone in the duke’s bedchamber and he had drawn her down beside him on the bed. “I can’t marry you. I am too old. I can’t give you children.”
“You can. You are years younger than me. And I’ve known women over forty give birth to healthy babies.
None of that matters. I have an heir, even if he doesn’t really wish to be.
I’m happy with him. Whether or not we marry is your decision.
And if you truly don’t want to have children, we can find ways around that too. ”
“But I do,” she blurted. “I’ve just got used… Oh the devil, Drimmen, I am a confirmed old maid and I have no intention of allowing either of us to make fools of ourselves! Can’t you—”
The rest was lost in his mouth as it took hers with such passion and such tenderness that weak tears started in her eyes.
“Please,” he said against her lips, caressing the dampness from her cheeks. “Please marry me. I don’t believe you’re indifferent.”
She closed her eyes. “I am not. Nor am I remotely like your first wife. I am independent, opinionated, and managing. I would drive you mad in a week.”
“It’s a big house if we wish to avoid each other.”
“What is the point of that?” she demanded.
“There isn’t one. I want to be with you. You make me feel alive and happy and contented all at the same time.”
She stared at him. “That is how I feel,” she said, her voice wavering.
“Could you not love me?”
“I do,” she whispered. “When I saw that knife and I thought you would die… But oh, Drimmen, you have to be sure!”
“I know lots of ways to be sure,” he said, a wicked glint forming in his eyes, and to her own surprise, she began to laugh.
She hadn’t known before that it was possible to laugh and kiss at the same time, but then, with the duke, there were many, many things she looked forward to learning that summer.
The End
Table of Contents
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