Page 10 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 10

N icholas sank into his sturdy chair with a sigh of relief. At last, he could shed the weight on his shoulders. The title, the responsibilities—all of it. He had put on his older jacket, he hadn’t brushed his hair, and with any luck, he would be invisible tonight in this bustling tavern.

“Well?”

Invisible to almost everyone.

He cast a side glance at Kenneth, the only person who looked his way. Large tankards of beer were sloppily set before them. A rank smell permeated the place—sweat and something sour. Half the crowd must have come from a fight, since it was all they were shouting about.

“Well what?”

This was the sort of place Nicholas used to thrive in. He used to attend underground fights. He’d even fought in one or two just to see how he liked it. But Roger had threatened to rat him out, since it was beneath even a spare heir to take such a risk.

Not so much a spare heir anymore.

“Don’t growl at me like that,” Kenneth said dismissively, misunderstanding Nicholas’s train of thought. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

Nicholas swallowed the frothy alcohol in a big gulp. “What is it?”

Kenneth shook his head and narrowed his eyes at him. He looked him up and down with a disgruntled expression. Perhaps he had been talking for the last ten minutes since Nicholas had arrived.

Nicholas’s thoughts were everywhere these days.

“You’re distracted,” Kenneth accused him.

“So what if I am?”

Nicholas was, after all, frequently distracted. They both knew this. The defense was natural. Natural and nothing more.

But it still earned him a dismissive grunt from his friend. “Fine, keep acting like that. Then tell me, Nicky boy, how are matters with Joanna?”

A weighted question, that was. Nicholas clenched his jaw and stared down at his drink. This was not a topic he wished to broach. Already he thought about his wife too much. But even the act of trying not to think about her took up more energy than he could ever admit.

The trick was to stay busy and to stay far from home. Most of the time, it worked. Until Kenneth mentioned her name.

“It’s Lady Whitmore to you. Duchess of Henley, even. Not Joanna.”

Sensing a prickle of fierce irritation in his spine, Nicholas rolled his shoulders and straightened up. His friend was watching him and waiting for a response. If he sat here silently for much longer, Kenneth would know that something was up.

So he gave another shrug, took a casual sip of his drink, and responded in a measured tone, “I suppose she’s adjusting well to her new role.”

“Is that all?” Kenneth drawled.

“That’s what matters.”

Nicholas tried to keep himself as relaxed as possible. Except he had forgotten how one relaxed. Both his arms were on the table. He removed one. It hung down at his side before he put it in his lap, and then lowered the other when he thought it might appear suspicious clinging to his tankard. He shifted and rested his ankle on the other knee. That felt right. Somewhat.

The tightness in his chest, however, did not ease.

He stole a glance at Kenneth out of the corner of his eye. His friend was the picture of laziness, with one arm draped over the back of the chair and the other casually swirling his tankard. A smirk played on his lips.

“Is that all you have to say?” Kenneth asked, with laughter in his voice.

That only irritated Nicholas further. He scowled, not certain if he was more frustrated by his faulty response or by his friend’s prodding. “She’s adjusting well. I told you.”

“Adjusting well?” Kenneth echoed in a familiar mocking tone.

Nicholas wondered how he had ever found the man funny or friendly. He let out a long breath as the man prattled on.

Kenneth nudged Nicholas’s leg as he added, “Come on, there has to be more. You don’t just take a wife and life goes on as before. Once there’s a woman under your roof, she’s everywhere.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. It was why Nicholas spent most of his waking hours at the club, Parliament, or elsewhere to ensure that he couldn’t keep running into his wife.

“Go on, then.”

“What more is there to say?” Nicholas huffed, resisting the sudden urge to throw his tankard at his friend.

He rubbed his brow. Perhaps he had not been sleeping well enough if he was considering violence at a time like this.

“My wife is a welcoming and quiet lady. We get along, and she doesn’t interfere with my duties. That is all.”

“That is all? You act as though you’ve brought another maid or a dog into the house,” Kenneth snorted.

And that is the aim. The good Lord knows that my household has practically tripled in the last two weeks. There are servants everywhere now. And the dogs…

It was Roger who loved dogs. He had five hounds in the stables and a few terriers in the house. They had all been so confused when he stopped appearing. Eleanor only wept when they were around. After a while, Nicholas could no longer take it and rehomed them where they would have better lives.

But this was the way he wanted it. He told himself it had to be this way. Everyone needed to be kept at a distance. There was too much for him to do, to manage, to sort, to fix. He had no time to sort through and examine his feelings.

Nicholas grunted and paused when he saw his friend staring at him with narrowed eyes. “What? I’m not. Does it even matter?”

“I don’t believe you,” Kenneth scoffed. “I don’t think I believe a word you’re saying.” He leaned in, his lips quirking up. “I think you feel something for her, more than you would a servant or a sister. Especially more than you would feel for a sister.”

Nicholas was shaking his head before Kenneth finished talking. “That isn’t true,” he said firmly. “You’re wrong. There’s nothing more between us. I told you I would be married, and I am. It may have happened sooner than we had anticipated, but it is done. You were at the dinner party. You know we are wed. It’s exactly as I have said.”

While Kenneth leaned back, the smirk remained on his face.

Nicholas curled his fingers into a fist, tempted to knock that smirk off his friend’s face. But he thought he also saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, and he waited, hopefully.

“Not true,” Kenneth declared, slapping the table lightly. “You’re not fooling me one bit.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Nicholas huffed.

But his friend wasn’t done.

“I’m not convinced,” Kenneth pressed. He set down his tankard, placed both hands on the table, and stared hard at Nicholas. “You said at the beginning that your marriage would be strictly only paper.”

“It is. It still is,” Nicholas affirmed.

“You said that she wouldn’t own you. That you wouldn’t be the sort of fellow who answered to her and only her.”

Not seeing where this was going, he threw up his hands. “She doesn’t. I’m here, am I not? You’re being ridiculous.”

“I saw the way you looked at her.” Kenneth shot him a look that caught him off-guard. It was mulish and stubborn and mean.

Kenneth was hardly a serious man in the most dire of circumstances, so Nicholas didn’t know what to make of his expression. Confused, he did not argue, so his friend continued.

“You might not be spending much time with her, but you’re not doing much else beyond going to Parliament and dealing with paperwork. You’ve not been with another woman since your wedding. Not once.”

Nicholas opened his mouth to object. There were many things he could say to this. Kenneth wasn’t keeping track of his movements all the time, so he could have lain with a woman. He could also point out that he hadn’t lain with a woman since before losing his father and brother.

The excuses went on and on.

His spine stiffened in indignation, and he gritted his teeth as he said, “I have been rather busy.”

“Terribly busy?”

“Very busy.”

“Where you don’t have time to even look at a woman, let alone let her kiss you.” Kenneth squinted at him before his eyes widened and a grin split his face.

At an earlier point in his life, Nicholas would have looked forward to that grin, knowing that he would be challenged. Teased. Dared. He liked being tossed off his feet. But that was back during a time when he still had a comfortable place to fall between his father and brother.

Now, there was nothing but a hard ground and countless fears.

He didn’t like that grin now. Knowing something was up, that he had walked right into a trap, he opened his mouth.

But it was too late.

“Prove it.” Kenneth slammed his palm on the table. “Go on. Find a woman tonight. Say, I’ll save you the effort and find you one. Prove to me that you’re not that louse of a husband owned by his wife.”

Stung, Nicholas couldn’t even contemplate the idea. “That won’t be happening. It’s been too long. Since I took the title, I––”

“Fine.” His friend was hardly disappointed. “You don’t even need to leave the room. A kiss, Nicholas. On the hand, the cheek, the lips—anywhere you like it. I want to see a flirtation. A kiss. The old Nicholas. Prove me wrong.”

Oh, I will.

Nicholas’s insides burned with indignation over being caught up in a ridiculous web like this one. But he couldn’t let it go. Not with that smarmy expression on Kenneth’s face. A slap or a punch or simply walking away would not do him any good. There was only one way to win.

So he would.

“Fine,” he bit out. “I can do that.”

“Can you?” Kenneth taunted.

“I can!”

“Then do it.”

Nicholas swallowed. “Now?”

“Now.”

As Kenneth relaxed in his chair, leaning it back on two legs as he crossed his arms over his chest, Nicholas rose to his feet. The challenge stung. It felt like he was still on fire. Flames licked at his pride and senses—he had to prove Kenneth wrong.

So he had to complete this challenge, no matter what.

Glancing across the room to consider his options, Nicholas told himself that he knew what to do. How many women had he charmed in his youth? Too many to count. He had gone through different preferences throughout the years. He had liked the country lasses with their rough manners and easy smiles, and then the refined widows draped in jewels and flattering tongues, and the countless women in between. Curvy or slim, blue-eyed or brown-eyed, he enjoyed them all.

His eyes fell on someone. A young serving lass with brown hair peeking from beneath her kerchief, a mole above her eyebrow, and broad smiling lips. She had charmed another patron while delivering a tankard of ale and was going around the room, checking on everyone.

She was pretty in a simple way. She would look out of place anywhere but here. She didn’t remind him of anyone and seemed content with herself and her position. There was little to lose here.

“Well?” Kenneth prompted teasingly.

“I’m going,” Nicholas groused.

He took a deep swig of his ale before slamming down his tankard and pushing away from the table.

There were only four tables to move around—two were rectangular and two were round. He hardly noticed, needing a moment to gather his thoughts.

Flirtation had always come so easily to him. But the truth of the matter was that he had barely felt the urge or thought about it since his life had been turned upside down one year ago. He’d lost all interest in the matter. Mourning had made life easier, allowing him to focus on everything else instead of women.

He usually felt the inspiration by the time he stood before them. But as he reached the young woman, he felt nothing.

Still, he forced a smile as he reached her side.

“Good evening, My Lord.” She bobbed a brief curtsy. No titles were needed, but it was clear he was a gentleman. “Do you need more drinks? Food?”

“No.” He blinked at the caustic answer and shook his head. Somehow, he remembered how to smile. “I have everything I want. Well, almost.”

A little giggle escaped her lips, since he could only mean one thing. She shifted her empty tray to one hip and pouted prettily. “I thought I saw you watching me.”

“I couldn’t help myself. You’re very… light on your feet.”

What the devil?

It should have been a proper compliment. On her looks, particularly. To show he had noticed her and found her attractive. But he couldn’t reorder his thoughts to find something proper to say.

She tossed her hair back. “Oh, you like my feet?”

It was hard to tell if she cared for the compliment or just him. Probably something else, he told himself.

She leaned forward with a soft giggle. “You should see them all neat and pretty out of my working shoes.”

“I suppose they are very nice,” Nicholas managed to say, finding himself distracted.

What was wrong with him? He’d never fumbled so hard with a woman before, especially in a casual place like this. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Kenneth watching them with open interest. The fool. But it meant he couldn’t just leave.

I can do this. It’s like riding a horse. It will come back to me so long as I keep trying. I’ll sort it out soon enough.

Except every minute was excruciating. She was pretty but plain, and her giggles were beginning to grate on his nerves. His stomach churned with unease. He told himself it was just the cigar smoke, but he wasn’t so certain.

Yes, she was a delightful young woman. At one point, he would have greatly enjoyed spoiling her with little gifts and time and compliments before parting ways. But that was before he had a title. Now, he was a duke. A married duke. A married duke with too many responsibilities.

The polite conversation was boring him to tears. He could no longer ignore the hollow dread in his chest. Something had to be done.

“My shift ends in two hours,” the young woman informed him. She reached forward to run her fingertips over his upper arm, pinching his elbow lightly. “What if the two of us found ourselves in a nice, little dance then?”

He’d never felt so repelled before. The disgust in his body––because of her? Himself?––had him stepping back.

“My Lord?”

Embarrassed and furious, he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Excuse me,” he said so curtly that she recoiled in surprise.

But he didn’t give her a chance to make amends. She hadn’t even done anything wrong. He turned on his heel and walked away.

He couldn’t leave the tavern without passing Kenneth. Nor did he want to go home. So he was forced to rejoin his friend.

Unable to meet the man’s gaze, he downed the rest of his ale and ordered another tankard. All the while, he could see Kenneth smirking at him out of the corner of his eye.

Not a word was said, but the silence told them everything.