Page 6
“O f course I have a mother. What do you think I am? Some spawn of the devil created out of netherworld muck? I’m sure even he had a mother,” the duke said, frowning at Ailis.
“Sorry,” she replied, unable to suppress her bubble of laughter. “You surprised me, that’s all. Of course you must have had one. But you never speak of your family and I have never known any of them to come visit you here. I would have thought… Well, it does not matter what I think, does it?”
He shrugged. “You are going to spout your opinion whether I wish to hear it or not, aren’t you?”
She cast him a sheepish look and nodded. “Do you mind?”
“No, Temple,” he said with a deep, rumbling chuckle that thrummed through her veins. “I rather like your impudence. It is a refreshing change from the fawning attention I receive from the parade of toadies who come to my door. Go ahead, tell me what is on your mind.”
“Nothing of serious consequence,” she said wistfully. “I had a family once and treasured them. Now it is just me and my uncle. He has been very good to me.”
“As you have been for him, Temple.” He cast her a rare and devastating smile. “Do not get too full of yourself when I tell you this, but you have been very good for all of Broadmoor. It is a nicer place to be because of you. Never tell anyone I said so, for I shall deny it.”
“That was rather a backhanded compliment.” But she smiled at him, for she did not think he had ever noticed her work.
She ought to have realized he would, for this duke was one of the smartest men she had ever met and had to be aware of everything that went on within his purview.
“Your Grace, why is it that I have been here almost six years now and never seen any Langford family members in residence other than you? Is there something wrong with your relations?”
“Perhaps it is they who are sensible and know to avoid me.” He arched a dark eyebrow, the gesture making him look impossibly wicked, and also incredibly handsome.
“No, it is nothing so dramatic. They are quite normal. Busybody of a mother. Feckless brother who has the makings of a decent lord if he ever gets serious enough to try. He is likely to be my heir. Two married sisters who are busy producing offspring. They all reside in London and are quite content to remain where they are.”
“As you are content to have them far away from you?”
He ran a hand through the thick waves of his hair. “I see them often enough on the trips I make to London whenever Parliament is in session.”
“Why do you not invite them to come up here? It is beautiful in the summer.”
He stared at the letter in his hand.
“Your mother must love you and be concerned for you. Open it,” Ailis urged, trying to suppress another bubble of laughter. This man was fierce and daunting, and it simply was not possible that anyone, even his mother, could make him tremble in fear or ever tell him what to do.
“Why should I open it? I know what it will say.”
“Then why did you bring it in here with you if you already know its contents? Admit it, Your Grace. You brought it along because you wanted to share it with me and get my opinion.”
“Do not presume to know my mind, Temple.”
“Fine, don’t read it, then. Be a coward,” she said, knowing she was purposely goading him. She thought it hilarious that his own mother could hold such sway over this big, brawny man. But this also softened him in her opinion, for he was always so dour and closed off in his feelings.
That he actually had feelings was a revelation.
Well, she always knew he had them. He had never shared them with her before.
She immediately liked the lady, for how could one not admire the dragon’s mother? Not that the duke was a dragon, but he behaved like a prowling menace at times. Whenever he got a fierce, frowning look on his face, everyone would scramble away.
Ailis never would.
There was something in his manner that did not frighten her. Perhaps he was gentler with her than with others.
But she had never noticed any significant difference in the way he treated her, until now. This usually curt and surly man was being quite wonderful in his care of her.
He sighed and opened the missive his mother had sent, taking a moment to peruse it. “Botheration. She and my brother are threatening to come here for Christmas.”
“Good,” she said, trying to hold back her mirth, “you should not be on your own at this time of the year.”
“How is it different from any other time of the year?” He emitted a soft growl, a deep, sensual sound that shot tingles through her. “Bloody nuisance—this is exactly as I feared. They are bringing along a small party of their friends.”
Honestly, did this man have to be so curmudgeonly? “But that is wonderful.”
He frowned. “It is a disaster, and all because of that stupid betting book. They now think I am on the hunt for a wife.”
“Shouldn’t you be? You know, ducal duty and all. Keeping up the family line. Popping out heirs.”
“That would require me to attach myself to one of those giggling geese. Not to mention, I would also have to deal with the goose’s anxious mother.”
“By ‘giggling geese,’ I suppose you mean ton diamonds. Poor man, to be surrounded by all that elegance and beauty. The loveliest women in all of England swooning over you. How absolutely awful for you. My heart bleeds.”
He arched an eyebrow, looking wickedly appealing as he cast her a stern look. “It is awful. This is my home. My sanctuary. I do not want it invaded by people who drink too much, party too much, and cannot shut up.”
She burst into laughter. “Oh dear. Stop being such a curmudgeon. And stop making me laugh. It hurts.”
“Do not chide me, Temple. This is a terrible turn of events.”
“I’m sorry. It is just surprising to see you so…upended.” She had not realized quite how much of a lone wolf he was. Or lone dragon. Well, he was this magnificently forbidding beast, big and gorgeous, and unfortunately trusting no one. “Have you always been this way, Your Grace?”
“Reclusive?” He shrugged. “Not always. A man’s preferences change over time. I happen to like my peace and quiet.”
“And I have now turned your household upside down. Indeed, I am truly sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, Temple. Wasn’t your fault. Nor are you an imposition. And you do not grate on my nerves.”
“Oh, goodness. You have put me in a swoon with such an irresistible compliment. Do you hear yourself? Is this how you go about seducing a woman? ‘My dear,’” she said in a deep voice to mimic his own, “‘you are tolerable, and do not make me grind my teeth as you blather. Come into my bed.’”
“I like to think I have a smoother delivery than that,” he said with a genuine smile. “However, most would leap into my bed without my ever having to say a word. A mere nod would be enough. Not even names exchanged.”
Her eyes widened.
“Temple, you are quite na?ve. Do you doubt me?”
“No, I suppose it is true enough. You are handsome, wealthy, and titled. What is there not to adore?”
“The thing is, women would surrender to me even if I looked like a toad. It is all about the title, you see. I am a duke.” He grunted. “And therein lies the problem. How am I to trust anyone, man or woman, when they all come at me with their hands outstretched?”
“And I am among the most shameful,” she admitted, knowing how eager she was to collect his thousand pounds for the vicarage coffers.
“No, you are honest and forthright. You do not pretend to want something other than my money…and another eight kisses.”
She blushed, for she did want them.
He cast her a knowing grin.
“We could end the farce and you could just give me the remaining eight hundred pounds,” she suggested.
He glanced at the door as Martha approached, which meant their chat would come to an end soon. “I could, but I am not going to do it,” he said quietly. “Temple, you shall have your eight kisses, and I am going to kiss you with enough heat to melt every delectable bone in your body.”
He rose and left her with her mouth agape, casting her a wicked smile as he bade her and Martha a good evening.
Ailis’s heart was in an untamable flutter. Her face was aflame.
She was glad he did not remain in the room, for she would have made a fool of herself in front of him.
Martha hurried forward with a worried frown and put a hand to Ailis’s brow. “Your cheeks are quite pink, but your forehead feels cool.”
“I’m sure I have a little fever,” Ailis said, silently praying for forgiveness for the small lie. A mere fib. A slight exaggeration. “This shoulder injury is wreaking havoc with my body. First I am too cold, and then too hot. Then hot and cold at the same time. It is most disconcerting.”
Martha did not appear to be fooled, and grinned. “His Grace has a way of disconcerting young ladies.”
Ailis felt another flutter of her heart. “Oh, Martha. I am almost thirty. I hardly count as young anymore.”
“Lamb,” Martha said sternly, “you are a match for any of those fancy London lasses making their debuts. If His Grace ever got his head out of his arse, he might see you for the gem you are.”
Ailis laughed. “Martha! That is quite an outrageous remark. Do not ever let the duke hear you say that.”
“Oh, I shall never be that foolish. I need my position at Langford Hall and would not risk it for anything. But is it not fun to dream of a match between the two of you?”
“No, I would never dare think of it, even dream of it. My father was nothing more than a village solicitor. In fact, our village’s only solicitor. He handled deeds and testaments mainly. We had no grand connections and there were years we barely made it by on his earnings.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
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- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6 (Reading here)
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
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- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
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- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
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- Page 21
- Page 22
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- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
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- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39