Page 2 of His Duchess’ Wicked List (Duchess Deals #1)

CHAPTER 2

“ I must put my foot down.” The Dowager Duchess of Everly’s voice was firm and implacable. “You have been gallivanting around the Continent for years, Daniel. The time has finally come to settle down and take a wife.”

Daniel Huxley, the Duke of Everly, glared at his mother. He had barely been back a week in England, and she had already started on her quest to marry him off. He had thought that he might be given a brief period of grace, at the very least. It was enough to give a man a raging headache.

Daniel glanced at his cousin, Christopher, who had very kindly taken on the responsibilities of the duchy in his long absence. His cousin was leaning against the drawing room mantelpiece of their London residence, watching carefully, not saying much at all. Clearly, Christopher was playing the diplomat. He didn’t want to get overly involved in this particular game of verbal sparring between his relatives.

Good old Chris , he never did enjoy battles.

Daniel stood up, feeling agitated, pacing the room. His mother and cousin kept watching him. The tea service lay cooling down on the side table. It seemed no one was in the mood to touch it.

He looked around the drawing room. It was exactly as he remembered—not one little thing was different or out of place. The same stuffy furniture. The same old ornaments, dusted to death. His father’s portrait still hung over the mantelpiece, staring down at them all, somewhat disdainfully. Daniel gazed at it. It was a wonder that hadn’t been removed, at the very least.

“I mean it, Daniel,” the Dowager Duchess continued, her jaw set. “If you do not find a suitable bride by the end of the Season, I shall find one for you.”

Daniel whipped his head around, glaring at her again. Christopher coughed into his hand. Daniel rounded on him, eying him carefully.

Chris had aged a bit in his absence. His dark hair was thinning ever so slightly, but it seemed he was still the same cautious, reserved person he had always been. He always thought twice before he spoke. More often than not, he had his head buried in a book.

He wasn’t a man of impulsive action. But that was often a good thing, and a character trait that Daniel had greatly appreciated during his years abroad, as it meant he didn’t have to worry about what was happening here in his absence.

Chris had taken the reins reluctantly but firmly.

They had always been good friends, as well as cousins, even though they had dissimilar characters. Christopher wasn’t a ladies’ man like Daniel was, for instance, preferring his books to wild nights in the arms of a good woman. He had never been much interested in the fairer sex. Whereas Daniel couldn’t seem to keep away from them.

Still, that might have changed in Daniel’s absence. He had been away a long time, after all.

“What say you about this business, Chris?” Daniel demanded. “I think you must pick a side, Cousin.”

“I believe Her Grace is right, Daniel,” Christopher said in a clear, calm voice. “You have been gone for years, and now it is finally time to accept the duties of being the Duke of Everly and all that comes with it. You owe that much to the title you have inherited.”

“Quite so,” the Dowager Duchess piped up, nodding vigorously. “It is a long, illustrious line, my son. You have a duty to provide an heir to it. You are not getting any younger! Why, in a few short years, you will turn thirty years of age, Daniel.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I am hardly heading towards my dotage, Mother.” His jaw tightened stubbornly. “I have a mind to turn around and find the first ship sailing back to the Continent.”

Abruptly, the Dowager Duchess stood up. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger, and she was stiff-backed.

“For shame!” she growled. “You were raised to become the Duke of Everly. You always knew it. I gave you time to adjust… after everything that happened.” Her voice shook slightly. “You have been gone for years, Daniel. Years . Your cousin kindly took on the duties of the duchy in your absence. You have been indulged! I wish that had never sent you away on your Grand Tour if this is the result!”

“Now, let us not speak in anger, Auntie,” Christopher interjected, looking concerned. “Daniel has only been back in England for a week. Perhaps we need to give him some time to adjust.”

“Fiddlesticks,” the Dowager Duchess snapped, her chest heaving. “He has had years to come to terms with his responsibilities. If we give him more time, he will only find another way to wiggle out of them!”

Daniel’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He could feel his anger starting to overwhelm him, and that wasn’t good. The last thing he wanted was to say something he would regret. And he knew that was exactly what would happen if he stayed in this room with his mother.

“If you will excuse me,” he said in an icy voice, bowing slightly. “I must take some air.”

He turned on his heel, marching out of the room, ignoring the hiss of indignation from the Dowager Duchess. He knew that Christopher would pacify her in his absence. Nothing could be accomplished when they were both in this high state of emotion. He was doing the right thing.

He grabbed his hat and gloves off the side table in the foyer, pulling open the front door. And then hastily stepped back. He had almost collided with his sister, who was evidently just returning from wherever she had been.

“Daniel!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Whatever is the matter? You look wild!”

He stared at her for a moment, marveling at how much she had grown in his absence, and how pretty she had become. A proper young lady now, and a real beauty. He had always loved her dearly, and they had been getting along very well since his return, but he knew he couldn’t speak in a civil manner even to her at that moment. Not until he had walked a bit and cleared his mind.

He muttered something under his breath, dodging her, heading down the front path and out the high front gate. He didn’t look back.

The sun was shining, and it was a nice enough morning for a walk, he thought, doffing his hat politely to passing couples along the wide, affluent, tree-lined street. At least it wasn’t raining. He hadn’t missed England’s miserable weather during his long absence. Not at all.

He exhaled slowly. Had he missed anything about his home country? He really didn’t think so. But then, his departure for the Continent had been so hasty, and undertaken under such a cloud, that perhaps it had soured all his memories of England.

By Jove’s beard. How am I ever to settle back here? How am I going to handle my mother’s harping?

Abruptly, he turned left. Hyde Park was in the distance. He hesitated. Every gentleman and his dog would be promenading there on a fine morning like this. He didn’t know if he could stand it. But on the other hand, if he could dodge the ton, he might find a tree to sit beneath, a quiet pocket of peace, to quieten his mind.

I cannot marry . I will not marry. Not even for the sake of the duchy. And she cannot make me.

He reached the park. His instincts had been correct—it was packed with ladies and gentlemen taking the air, promenading around the Serpentine. He grimaced to himself. If he remembered correctly, there was a somewhat private spot further along. He just had to endure the crowd until he got there.

He gritted his teeth, nodding politely at people as he passed them, refusing to stop and embroil himself in conversation. He doubted that anyone would recognize him yet, anyway, or even know of his return to England’s fair shores. Once they did, he wasn’t at all sure what their reaction to him would be. Yes, he was the Duke of Everly, but the name was clouded by scandal now. And he had been away so long that he simply had no idea if that cloud had lifted or still remained.

I do not give a deuce either way. I do not covet the good opinion of the beau monde. Let them do their worst.

He thought of his mother again. And his cousin. Now that he had walked for a while, and his anger was settling, he was starting to see their points of view. He didn’t necessarily agree with them, especially on the subject of matrimony, but he knew that they were only doing what they thought was right. His mother wasn’t entirely a virago. She was just trying to do her best to ensure that the illustrious Huxley bloodline continued.

He was the Duke, after all. That line must come from him. But he balked at the mere thought of it. He couldn’t marry, not even to produce the longed-for heir. If he did, then the marriage would come to grief, in probably the exact same way his parents’ marriage had. He was his father’s son, after all.

A rake begets a rake . But at least I admit what I am and fully accept my nature. I will never, ever hide it like he did. I would never put a woman through that.

Daniel blinked, trying hard not to remember what had happened all those years ago. But it was always there, just beneath the surface. His mother’s terrible pain at her husband’s betrayal.

The double pain of losing him forever as well, without ever having the chance to confront him about it. And then, the salt being poured into the wound—the scandal which had resulted, sweeping over them like a thundercloud, changing their lives forever.

It was old news now—five years had passed since that dreadful day. And yet, sometimes, it seemed like it was only yesterday. The years of his Grand Tour flashed before his eyes, a kaleidoscope of memories, one after the other.

He had wandered the Continent, traipsing from Italy to France to Spain, for so long that the nomadic life had settled into his blood. He didn’t know how to be anything else anymore. He didn’t know how to be the Duke of Everly, even though he had been born to the title…

“Oh!”

It was a feminine voice, high-pitched, full of surprise. He had been so engrossed in his reverie that he had actually collided with a lady walking towards him. Instinctively, he reached out to steady her, as she was in danger of falling sideways from the impact. She seemed intent on not dropping a book which she held in her hand, gripping it tightly.

Hound’s teeth !

He was stunned as he gazed upon her face for the first time.

A beauty has just landed in my arms!

He kept staring at her, lost for words, taking in her fine form. A beauty, indeed. She was petite—a full head shorter than he was—but with a womanly figure. She had glossy dark brown hair, the color of mahogany, beneath her white bonnet, and pale, alabaster skin, with a smattering of light freckles across her nose and cheeks.

But it was her eyes that bewitched him, drawing him in further, mesmerizing him utterly. He had never beheld eyes quite like them before. They were the color of honey, or molasses, a rich golden brown, fringed by long dark lashes. And she fit into his arms as snugly as a hand fit into a glove.

She was blushing, her pale skin turning pink, deepening to a rosy glow.

“I do apologize,” she murmured in a breathless voice.

He didn’t respond. He was too busy watching her blush. He didn’t even realize he still had his hands on her shoulders until another lady came into view, coughing into her hand.

“Excuse me, Sir,” the other lady said in a tart voice. “But we must hurry. Our mother will be wondering where we are.”

“Of course, Madam.” Daniel abruptly took his hands off the beauty’s shoulders. “I hope you are quite able to walk…”

“I am well, Sir,” the dark-haired beauty assured, with a small smile, her blush deepening again. “Thank you.”

Her companion took her arm firmly and dragged her away, trailed by an older woman who looked like a maid. He couldn’t help watching them depart. Her figure was so very fine. It wasn’t until they had rounded a bend that he noticed a piece of paper slip from the book the beauty had been carrying, drifting in the air like a small white bird, before coming to rest on the ground.

He rushed towards it, scooping it up, feeling a small stab of joy. This was the excuse he needed to speak to her again and find out her name. He had been so spellbound by her that he had let her walk off without even finding out who she was.

He rounded the corner, clutching the piece of paper in his hand, seeking her and her companion. But to his dismay, the park was so crowded that he couldn’t see them anywhere. It was as if the crowd had swallowed them entirely.

Daniel stopped abruptly. It was no use. The dark-haired beauty was gone. Disappointment washed over him. He wasn’t going to be able to find her again. Unless…

He glanced down at the piece of paper, hoping that she might have written her name on it. A small hope—but a hope, nonetheless.

His eyes widened as he read it. It was a list of some kind, scrawled in black ink.

And oh… what a list it was.

A slow smile spread over his face. This list was definitely not meant for prying eyes. He doubted that the mystery woman had meant for anyone to read it, other than herself. He had never read a list quite like it before.

The little minx . No wonder she held onto that book for dear life when we collided. If anyone read this list and knew that it came from her, she would be enshrouded by scandal.

He read through it again, stunned to his core. His blood was on fire. He was certain of only one thing: he must find her again. And quickly.