Page 15 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

L ouisa stepped from the carriage, her gaze sweeping over the cottage before her.

It was by no means grand, not by any stretch of the imagination, yet neither could it be considered anything near rundown.

Ivy climbed along the sides, and a few flowerpots sat by the windows with bright flowers. It was oddly delightful.

But its true allure?

The view.

Lawks! Louisa wouldn’t mind waking to a view of such a breathtaking scene as this every morning. The cottage looked over the beach, where the sand met the sea in an endless stretch of blue.

“Your friend lives here ?” She glanced at Mortimer.

Even the duke took on a different aspect with this place as the backdrop.

He appeared a touch more serene. Even dressed in plain clothing, though she would have loved to see him again in his livery!

If she were to have to choose between that sight and this view, it would be a truly difficult decision!

Mortimer didn’t dawdle, he only nodded and led the way, all commanding and authoritative.

She almost snorted, thinking about how he had “led” the way into the carriage earlier.

Well, she had started it, but she couldn’t help but muse at how the man played along, as though it had always been in line with his own authority.

She trailed after him, bemused at the enthralled expression of her brother as well.

A tall man—almost as tall as Mortimer, but leaner—stepped from the house, grinning when his gaze fell upon the duke. “As I live and breathe, when I received your missive, I thought the heavens must be playing a trick on me.”

Louisa blinked when she heard the duke’s low laughter. The man always presented as a stiff, cold figure, so discovering this carefree laughter was quite startling.

“Thank you for helping us with lodgings,” Mortimer said.

The man waved his comment aside, but his curious gaze settled on Louisa and her brother. She stepped up to him and held out her hand. “Louisa Talbot. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second before shaking her offered hand. “Talbot, you say. The Talbot?”

Oh, drat. Should she not have introduced herself with her real name?

“It’s a long story,” Mortimer answered the question his friend didn’t ask.

“I’m Leo Talbot,” her brother announced, following her lead, not noting anything amiss.

The man shook Leo’s hand as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Michael Helgate.”

Louisa paused. Michael Helgate? Why did that name sound so familiar? She also didn’t miss the what are you bloody doing glance Mr. Helgate shot Mortimer.

Well, she couldn’t fault his curiosity or skepticism.

Their families were not on good terms, and apparently, he knew it.

A pinch of regret filled her. She should have shown more interest in how and why their families were actually feuding.

She’d always understood it to be a sort of struggle between two ducal powers.

To others it might seem rather ironic that she, the daughter of a duke, would want to steer clear of dukes.

However, she couldn’t choose the family she had been born with, but she could choose the family she would spend her life with—the husband part of it anyway.

But the look Mr. Helgate leveled at the duke sharpened her curiosity about the many layers to their feud.

“Come inside,” he gestured to the house. “I’ve just boiled water for tea. Miles will be by later to cook. A silent fellow, you probably won’t notice him. He does the chores at the house.”

How intriguing. “We thank you for your hospitality.”

“You are still using Miles as your personal servant?” To Louisa, he clarified, “They served together in the war, and Miles is the only one who worries endlessly about this one’s bad habits.”

Mr. Helgate laughed. “What bad habits?”

“You are getting lazier by the day. Still having Miles cook your food? Draw your baths? Get a wife and give the man some peace.”

“What would a wife do with me?” Mr. Helgate said. “The only one who will put up with me is him.”

“I quite share that sentiment about a wife,” Leo piped up.

Louisa flicked her brother’s forehead with a finger. “What do you know, little brat? You’re only ten years old.”

“I’m old enough to know about the ways of the world.”

Mr. Helgate let out a deep chuckle. “I like this lad.”

“He is quite entertaining,” Mortimer agreed.

His friend cast a glance at him. “Much like you .”

Louisa stared at the two men’s backs as they strode into the house.

In this setting, conversing with a friend dressed equally humbly, while he still possessed an air of strength, the duke seemed more like a mortal man, rather than like the eternal, impervious god-like presence he projected at times.

She rather liked this duke.

“The lady and her brother can share the first room to the left upstairs. You are the one across from them,” Mr. Helgate informed them, gesturing to the staircase.

Louisa inclined her head. “Thank you.”

“I’d rather room with our gardener,” Leo announced, folding his arms as if bracing for a fight.

Mr. Helgate arched a brow, his gaze shifting to Mortimer. “Gardener?”

The duke merely grunted in answer.

Louisa, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes on her brother. “You cannot sleep with him.”

“Why not?” Leo demanded.

“Because you will disturb his sleep,” she said, hands on her hips.

Her brother pulled a face. “I don’t want to room with a girl.”

“You had no trouble rooming with me last night.”

“I was asleep when you took me to my room. Today, I’m not.”

A true brat.

Although, Leo did have one hell of a kick in his sleep. Also, terrible sleeping posture. She flicked a glance at the duke. Well. “If our gardener allows it, who am I to disagree...?”

Leo puffed out his chest. “I shall not take no for an answer.”

The duke stared at them, as if summoning patience from the depths of his soul. “So I do not get a say in the matter?”

Louisa lightly lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “What can I do? The brat wants what the brat wants.”

Leo nodded, satisfied.

Mortimer arched a brow at her brother. “Why aren’t you pouting or protesting being called a brat?”

“Because it serves my purposes.”

Mr. Helgate burst out laughing. “If he doesn’t want you, lad, you can room with me.”

“No,” Mortimer said. “I’ll take him.”

“The offer stands.” Mr. Helgate motioned to a drawing room with windows that overlooked the beach. “How about some tea or sherry? I have bread and cheese if you are hungry.”

Louisa’s ears perked up. “Sherry shall be wonderful. Leo will have some tea.”

“Sister!” Leo protested.

“What? You don’t believe I would actually give you sherry? Would you rather have some milk?”

He scrunched up his nose. “Fine, I shall have tea. Only children drink milk.”

Louisa shook her head at his distaste. “I’m not a child, and I still enjoy milk.”

“To sleep. There is a difference.”

She caught the duke’s curious look. He must be recalling the first night they met.

She hadn’t been in bed when he snuck into her chamber like a burglar.

Come to think about it, would he have rummaged through her drawers if she’d been sleeping?

Just where had he thought she was on discovering her gone? Clearly the bed had been unmade.

He must have guessed at her thoughts because his lips suddenly curved, not quite a smile, but close to it.

This sly duke.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she’d walked right past him that night without realizing.

A rather unsettling thought. But then, was a person’s presence ever so tangible that one could sense it without seeing them?

Had the hair on the back of her neck prickled at some point that night?

She couldn’t recall. But at that moment, a shiver traced down her spine.

Mortimer.

You are a dangerous, dangerous man.

*

Oliver averted his gaze and stepped to the windows overlooking the ocean.

A slight breeze from an open one carried in a salty freshness, cutting through the sweetness of Lady Louisa’s scent—but only for a moment.

Soon, as if defying the wind itself, it fused with the crisp sea air, teasing him before the next gust granted him another fleeting breath of relief.

When it had started, he couldn’t say, but somewhere between Ashford and Brighton, he’d begun noticing a faint trace of her. Soft at first, but as time wore on, it grew bolder and impossible to ignore. It was something inviting. Something intoxicating. Something undeniably hers .

Disarming.

He should have been able to ignore it, yet every time, it caught him off guard.

Helgate poured them each a glass of sherry and quickly disappeared before returning with young Leo’s tea. A wry curve tugged at Oliver’s mouth as Leo accepted the cup, his posture resembling that of a king more than a child.

The sweetness grew stronger.

His gaze shifted to Lady Louisa.

She had settled herself with her hip resting against the windowsill beside him, sipping her sherry, lost in the view.

He let out a low breath. There was no escaping this.

He still couldn’t tear his thoughts away from the impossible reality of the moment.

That she was here. Lady Louisa. With him. The entire scene seemed like a dream.

“So, you wish to approach the Fury brothers,” Helgate said as he poured himself a sherry and joined Oliver.

He wrenched his gaze away from Lady Louisa and nodded his head. “Yes.”

It was no secret that the Fury brothers ran the criminal side of Brighton.

One wouldn’t think that Brighton would have such a thing, but it was the main route for most of the smuggling operations in England.

It was also close to several coastal towns and estates where nobles took to during the season. The Furys were no secret.

Unlike the other organization.