Page 45 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

London, three weeks later

“D ear Lord, this cake . . .” Theodosia murmured, chewing.

Louisa grinned. She was back in London in the Talbot townhouse, enjoying tea and cake with her friends, Theodosia, Harriet, and Selena. “What do you think? I am considering this orange flavor for our wedding.”

Theodosia swallowed, then said, “ Oh? You plan to bake your own wedding cake? Do you think that is wise?”

“I suppose you are right,” Louisa said, mind racing. She didn’t want to spend days in the kitchen. “It might not be enough for the guests. I must prepare the recipe for Cook instead.”

“A wedding your father still doesn’t approve of,” Harriet pointed out.

“Oh, he will come around,” Louisa said darkly, stabbing her fork in her otherwise untouched slice. “He doesn’t have a choice. It’s time to put the feud between the Cavanagh and Talbot households to rest.”

Selena cleared her throat and set her plate aside. “One thing,”—she swallowed, pointed to the cake—“a bit too much salt.”

Louisa’s head snapped to her own slice. Taking a small bite, she barely managed to swallow before recoiling and setting her plate aside. Lawks! This... “How on earth did this happen? I swear I added the right amount!” Her gaze swung to Theodosia and Harriet. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Harriet arched a brow. “It’s not some form of savory cake?”

“No!” Louisa exclaimed, aghast. Her eyes suddenly widened, horror filling her. “Dear Lord, I baked two!”

Theodosia set her plate down calmly. “I hesitate to ask this,” she said, lifting her teacup, “but where is the second one?”

Louisa bolted upright. “I sent it to Oliver’s house.”

Her three friends stared at her in mute disbelief.

“No!” Her hands flew to her head. “I sent it to Oliver’s house!” How could she have made such a mistake? She wanted him to taste a masterpiece, not a devil-piece! She could just imagine that usually stoic face scrunching up in shock.

Selena snagged her wrist and tugged her back onto the sofa. “It’s too late now. He has probably already tasted it. There is nothing you can do about it.”

Louisa groaned and slumped against the cushions. “Urgh!”

Her friend was right. There was no undoing this nightmare.

Harriet, ever the voice of reason, steered the conversation back on course. “Have you decided where you shall marry? You might be the only one of us who will have a normal wedding.”

If marrying your family’s nemesis was normal, then yes. “We shall be wed beneath the weeping willow tree at Ashford in two months.”

Selena laughed. “You truly have no fear of your father.”

“Why should I have fear? Besides, it was Leo’s idea,” Louisa said. She had to give the little brat his due, he had some good ideas. “And besides, my father is powerless in the face of his children.”

Power truly had its limits. It all but disappeared in the face of love.

“I still cannot believe you are marrying a duke,” Theodosia mused. “Didn’t you say you vow never to marry a king, prince, or duke?”

“I’ve learned a lot since then,” she smiled, still dancing in the clouds herself, “and changed my mind.”

Harriet lifted her teacup in salute. “Well, that is what life is all about.”

Selena, however, remained a touch brooding. “I still cannot believe the head of the secret women’s club was your stepmother ,” she muttered with a scowl. “I wasted so much energy on nothing.”

“Imagine if you’d been accepted into their club,” Theodosia said with a sly smile. “You would soon be an infamous criminal.”

Selena scoffed. “By association.”

Theodosia sipped her tea. “Of course.”

Harriet turned back to Louisa. “What is going to happen to your stepmother? The gossip columns are surprisingly silent on the matter.”

Louisa waved a hand, unconcerned. “Oh, do not worry, they shall explode soon enough after my wedding.” Oliver had handed over the power to her, and she had decided, much to her father’s relief, to deal with the matter after she wed.

He still wished to keep the scandal quiet, but to do that, he would have to remain married to Camilla. And he wasn’t prepared to accept that.

Neither were Louisa and Leo.

She’d learned a lot of things since she got embroiled in this tangled mess—the book, Oliver, her stepmother, and even those infuriating Fury brothers.

For one, she’d learned that not all threats came with snarling teeth and drawn blades—some arrived wrapped in silk.

Therefore—her second lesson—a lady should always keep her friends close at heart, and known enemies close at hand.

That being said, known enemies could become allies, and allies enemies.

And lastly, sometimes rough and tough had more honor than the elegant and esteemed.

Life truly possessed a wicked sense of humor.

And Louisa?

Well, she was learning to laugh along with it.

“Where is the duchess now?” Selena asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Louisa smirked. “Oh, she is confined in one of my father’s houses here in London.

Not even a rat can enter or leave that residence without him knowing.

” Oliver had also stationed guards outside the garden, the streets, and everywhere else he could manage.

Why, she imagined there was a person of his beneath every lamppost in St. James’s.

Harriet hummed, tapping her chin. “She must be quite livid.”

Livid? Louisa recalled the woman’s string of curses upon regaining consciousness.

If there was a single resident who hadn’t heard the full scope of the woman’s wrath, they were surely deaf.

But rather than annoyance, each curse, each shattered vase, each cry of indignation, filled Louisa with immense satisfaction.

She needn’t worry about Camilla anymore.

But she missed Oliver.

She missed their time in the country.

Her father had kept a hawk-like eye on her ever since they’d announced their engagement. No, ever since that night when he’d discovered Oliver in her bedchamber. As it was, he still refused to allow her betrothed into his residence.

“Let’s forget about that woman,” Louisa said, dusting off her skirts. “We should head to Bond Street.”

Theodosia gave her a knowing look. “You wish to sneak a visit with a certain duke, don’t you?”

“You’ve caught me.” She did want to see Oliver.

Had to see him. It was as if an itch had formed in her heart and it wouldn’t be soothed until she could leap into his arms. Bond Street had become a term she would use since she returned to London.

It was code to meet Oliver, since her father’s ears were still too sensitive to terms like Oliver , Mortimer , Cavanagh , betrothed , and even duke .

“It’s broad daylight,” Selena said. “You will no doubt be spotted if you call on your betrothed.”

“Is that so wrong?” Louisa asked, half-exasperated.

“No,” Harriet said, clutching her breast. “I think it’s romantic.”

Louisa leaped to her feet. “Then shall we go buy ribbons in Bond Street?”

Theodosia rose, too, chuckling. “Very well, I am also curious about this Mr. Helgate I know nothing about. You mentioned he was there, as well, didn’t you?”

“He should be,” she said thoughtfully. “Though I cannot know if he will be there right this moment.”

“Nevertheless, I cannot let you let you go alone. What if I miss out on more theatrics?” Theodosia looked at the others. “What about you two?’

Harriet shook her head. “I shall return home. Leeds and I are meeting Leonora and Dare for dinner tonight, Ophelia and Avondale might also join us, and I still have some things to prepare.”

“I shall skip as well,” Selena said, rising along with Harriet. “I suddenly have an urge to feed Warrick and my brother some cake. Can I perhaps have two slices to take with me?”

Theodosia laughed, and Louisa nodded with a grin. “Take it all.”

The day had started out sweet, turned a bit salty, and it would soon turn sweet again. Life was good.

*

In another drawing room not so far away

Oliver pulled a face.

The cake on his plate looked innocent enough—fluffy, golden brown, with a light dusting of powdered sugar on top. A vision of perfection. His angel’s perfection.

And a deception of the highest order. Because the moment it touched his tongue, his taste buds staged a violent rebellion.

It was as if the entire Atlantic had been reduced to powder form and baked into this one unsuspecting slice. His mouth puckered. His throat clenched. His soul briefly left his body.

He glanced at Helgate, who was valiantly attempting to maintain his composure. A twitching eye. A stiff jaw. The faintest tremor in his fingers as he reached for his glass. A losing battle.

Then there was Miles. Silent, stoic, Miles. A man who faced down danger without so much as a blink. And here said, jaw working methodically, his chewing mechanical—but his eyes, dear Christ, his eyes were watering .

Helgate gulped his sherry down in one go. He exhaled sharply, then forced a tight-lipped smile. “Delicious.”

“The sherry or my wife’s cake?”

“She’s not your wife yet,” Helgate muttered, placing his empty glass back on the table. He nodded toward Oliver’s plate. “And I don’t see you stuffing your mouth with what’s left on your plate.”

Oliver cleared his throat. “I am pacing myself.”

Miles coughed. Or perhaps choked. It was hard to say.

Helgate lifted a brow. “Pacing yourself or preserving yourself?”

“Same thing.”

Miles, still chewing, placed his plate before Helgate without a word.

Helgate recoiled. “Absolutely not.”

“You said you would do anything for me.”

“Yes, I’d die for you but not bloody this. It’s atrocious.” At Oliver’s look, he quickly amended, “Atrociously delicious.”

“It’s only a tiny bit over-salted,” Oliver remarked.

“A tiny bit?”

Miles grunted and reached for his sherry as well. He, however, had the grace to take only a sip before he placed his glass down. “I look forward to your wedding.”

Helgate scowled at the man as if he’d just declared war. “Ever the diplomat.”

“Better than being ever the one who spews his thoughts left and right,” Oliver said dryly, leveling a look at his friend.

Helgate, who seemed to think his knack for being blunt had been called upon for more exercise, jabbed a finger at the cake on the table. “Old chap, this cake could double as a salt lick for cattle.”

“I heard you sent the Talbot ledger to Maxen Fury,” Miles interjected smoothly, steering the conversation away from the dangerous waters of dessert critique.

Oliver inclined his head. “Only the pages Helgate copied.”

Helgate folded his arms across his chest. “I still don’t know if that was the best move to make.”

Oliver shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t either.

He did not that he didn’t want to make enemies of those seven Furys.

Not when he just found his angel. She came first. He’d protect her at any cost. “Someone is going to absorb those routes, might as well be the devil we already know rather than any of the duchess’s henchmen or club members who remain at large. ”

Helgate gave a slow nod. “Use one evil to eradicate the other.”

“Precisely.” It will give them more power, but the authorities wouldn’t have to tread lightly in bringing them down. At least that was Oliver’s way of thinking. “And didn’t you tell Maxen Fury you had your eye on them now? Go wild, old chap.”

Helgate’s lips twitched, but before he could respond, a knock sounded on the door. Oliver turned, expecting a footman. Instead, it was Louisa and Lady Theodosia.

“ Louisa. ” Oliver leaped to his feet, striding over to her, fingers grasping hers. She’d already tugged off her gloves, the touch of skin sending ripples to all the places that shouldn’t be awakened in public. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

She grinned. A beautiful, breathless grin. “Is it a delightful surprise?”

“Always.”

Lady Theodosia cleared her throat.

Right.

Louisa’s gaze shifted to his guests, her gaze falling on the cake.

Hell. Damnation. Christ.

“Well, gentlemen,” her angelic voice asked, so ever sweetly, “what do you think of my creation?”

Oliver quickly sent his two friends warning looks.

Helgate, in a rare moment of discretion, cleared his throat and rose to his feet, though his expression remained carefully neutral. “It’s unforgettable.”

Miles rose a beat later, stiff as a plank at finding himself in company, but nodding.

Oliver also followed with a nod.

“Unforgettable?” Louisa echoed, tapping her slipper against his boot. “Is that the collective perspective,”—her bright eyes met his—“my dear betrothed?”

Oliver shot a quick glance at Lady Theodosia, who snorted, then at his friends, who were suddenly riveted by the table’s legs, their eyes glued to anything but the cake.

“Unforgettable,” Oliver repeated, every ounce of tact he’d cultivated over the years failing at that moment. “It’s the perfect word to use. It certainly stands out,” he said, trying to sound as diplomatic as Miles had.

Lady Theodosia laughed. “No need to keep up appearances, Mortimer. The cake is a horror the likes of which I’ve never before experienced.”

Louisa sighed, then twisted her lips into a smile, blue eyes sparkling. “You don’t need to spare my feelings. I made two, and I’ve tasted the other one.”

“Thank God,” Helgate muttered. “It will take a whole barrel of sherry to wash my palate of the salt. Miles, where is that bottle?”

Lady Theodosia stepped forward. “You must be Mr. Helgate. I’ll have a sherry as well.”

“Ah, you’ve heard tales about me, then.”

Lady Theodosia grinned. “Only terrible ones.”

Oliver, sensing an opportunity to escape with his angel, slid his fingers between hers. “Why don’t you take a moment to get acquainted while I steal my betrothed away. We need to discuss cake.”

Lady Theodosia snorted. “Cake my arse.”

Oliver didn’t tarry. He squeezed their entwined fingers, then pulled her from the drawing room to the morning room.

Louisa laughed. “Shall I kiss the saltiness away?”

God. “Please do.”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and kissed him, and all the saltiness truly did melt away. It never failed to do so. Both his hands cupped her face, his tongue seeking hers, an urgent request for more.

Loud laughter and a curse came from the other room.

This was his future.

Laughter and curses of friends and family. A sense of home. A belonging that filled his body like nothing else ever had and never will again.

And Louisa. Most of all, Louisa.

All his promises were hers.

He promised she would be safe ten years ago, and then he promised he would get her brother back, now he promised to protect her all his life.

He couldn’t wait.

The End