Page 4 of The Duke’s Goddess (Duke Dare #2)

“ There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.” –Joan of Arc

AS SHE STOOD THERE, with her opening, Joan realized that this was the perfect opportunity to learn more. The more she knew, the better she could help. If all it came down to was each person taking courage, speaking to each other, and saying yes to love, then Joan already knew the plan. If there were any complications that should come to light, it was better to know them up front rather than later on down the road.

“What have you noticed?” Joan asked because she was in it now. She may as well dig deep and find out what she could. So she stood at Sally’s side as the two of them observed Jacob and James a few yards away. The two gentlemen were having a tense discussion, despite the tight smiles on their lips. Joan was pretty sure that James was trying to convince Jacob to do something. If not to invite Sally for a dance, at least to converse with her. And now that Joan was with her, there wouldn’t be as much pressure. Four people made conversation easier than two shy people.

She sighed in thought, and finally answered Joan’s question from behind her fan. “His dark hair.”

Dark hair. That was a good reason to be smitten. If one was into dark hair, Joan supposed it was attractive. Though really, it ought to be as dark as James’s hair if not darker for one to really see the appeal.

“Ahhh…and his blue eyes.” All right. That was more information, although of a similar depth level to the first point. Dark hair. Blue eyes.

True. Jacob’s eyes were a nice blue. If one liked the pale robin’s egg color over looking into the ocean of James's eyes when one spoke.

“So…is that why you…” she didn’t know how to ask Sally if she loved him. That felt too direct. “You feel the way you do about him?”

“I’m in love with him.” At that announcement Sally closed her eyes and exhaled softly. “I can’t help it. It’s overtaken me. I’m afraid I’ll do something reckless with him.”

This was headed in the right direction. In fact, this was exactly what Mimi had observed. Jacob was pining. And it looked as though Sally was pining the same way. “So if he asks you to dance, you’ll say yes?”

“God, yes. I’ve been waiting. I’m almost of a mind to walk up to him myself and ask him.”

This was news. Good and bad news. Bad only if Sally acted as recklessly as she suggested. It was not done for a woman to ask a man to dance. But the news was also good. Good in that perhaps Sally didn’t need her help at all. It seemed that this was a fairly one-sided deficiency. That of Jacob’s. All he needed to do was ask, and Sally was all his. Joan could feel her heart rejoicing again. She needed to take action to help Jacob take action, so that Sally didn’t take action and make a fool of herself. Or worse, cause a scandal. Sweet, shy, innocent Sally. The last thing she needed (the last thing any woman needed) was a scandal.

Joan looked up, trying to catch James’s eye. It was a bit awkward, since the two of them hadn’t really conversed before. But…well, oddly, it was simpler than she thought it would be. When she looked up, he was already waiting. So once she caught his eye, she took a half step back to be out of Sally’s peripheral vision. Then she tilted her chin toward Jacob. James pointed discreetly to his friend with his hand on his chin and Joan nodded. Then she canted her head toward Sally and James nodded.

Wow. For never really having a conversation with him, that went smoothly. She would have never thought that communicating with a stranger, a male one at that, could be so…effortless.

And then she saw James give Jacob a soft tug on his arm. Say something to him. Which she could only hypothesize was something manly like, Get your wits about you. Ask the chit to dance . When Jacob shook his head slightly, James made another comment and Jacob’s eyes went wide. Slowly he nodded, and James patted him on the back. Hard. Likely with a twofold purpose. One, to congratulate him on making the right decision. Two, to give the man some forward momentum and take the first step forward.

It was all going according to plan. It was all so simple. Joan couldn’t be more delighted.

“He’s coming,” Sally squeaked.

“Yes, he is. Are you ready?”

“I can’t believe it,” she said, her fan fluttering faster than Joan had ever seen a woman flutter a fan before. Another whisper-squeal, “It’s happening. It’s finally happening. My mother won’t like this one bit, but I’m so happy.”

And that last sentence gave Joan cause for concern. Why would her mother not be happy? Jacob was perfectly respectable, albeit a bit shy. There was no reason—

“How do I look?” Sally was breathless. To the point that Joan thought she might be a likely candidate to swoon.

“You look beautiful. Take a deep breath. You don’t want to swoon before he has a chance to ask you to dance.”

“No, you’re right.” She panted. Panted! Despite standing still with her shoulders nearly at her ears in tension. “Wait. Maybe if I swoon he’ll catch me in his strong arms and then he’ll carry me away.”

“All right, Sally.” The plan was not so simple right now. Sally needed to calm down or everything would hit her fan and scatter everywhere. The fan was still flapping at a preposterously rapid pace. “Let’s think this through. We have two seconds before he’s here. You can have a first dance in his arms, fully present with him, or you can fall in his arms semi-conscious. Which is it going to be?”

And really, Joan thought she had laid out that question as if there was only one preferred option. Yet Sally paused before answering.

“The dance,” she decided, as if it were an epiphany. “I’ll go with the dance. Oh, thank you Joan. Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

At this point, Joan wasn’t sure what she would have done either.

And just as the two men approached, Joan caught James's eyes again. His ocean deep eyes. He raised both his eyebrows in greeting, giving her ample space to plunge into his depths. Her breath caught.

“Lady Joan,” more depth rumbled out of him, this time in the form of his voice, as he made the introductions.

And Joan almost forgot the concern that had been a flag in her mind from a moment earlier. Except she couldn’t forget the concern because all of a sudden James was flicking his eyes at Sally. And then back to her. And then at Sally. And then back to Joan.

Joan was confused.

James cleared his throat.

Joan was still confused.

James canted his head toward Sally. And raised his eyebrows again.

Finally Joan looked over at her friend.

And…

Oh.

My.

God.

The flag of concern was raised. It was blowing in the wind. It was quite the largest flag she had ever seen. And it was crimson red.

Jacob was staring at Sally. Besotted. Predicted. Expected. Going according to plan.

Joan was staring at Sally. Questioning. Dumbfounded. Because while James was staring at Joan, also questioning, Sally was staring at James . Dreamily.

This was all wrong.

This was all so wrong that Joan didn’t think it could be worse.

Wait. It was getting worse. Sally was slowly raising her hand toward James.

This was what Joan had feared but not enough, and not toward the right man. Joan had thought it would cause scandal if Sally were to ask Jacob to dance. A respectable gentleman. But oh—Joan cringed—it was going to be so much worse if Sally asked a notorious rake to dance.

So Joan did the only thing she could think of. The only action that made sense in the moment. The only action that could save her friend from scandal, and more importantly, inevitable heartbreak later. James was a rake. He would never settle down, especially not for shy, quiet women like Sally and Joan. She wasn’t quite sure why she included herself there, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that she needed to act quickly. Before Sally could embarrass herself, Jacob, and James.

Joan threw a fake smile on her face and extended her hand toward James, “I believe this dance belongs to you.” She didn’t want to outright lie in front of the group, but she would deal with her conscience and this misleading white lie later.

It took James less than a second to reply. In fact, no one could have guessed that she had just sprung this on him.

“I do believe it does,” he said, taking her hand. And he turned to his friend, “Don’t you have something to ask Sally?”

Jacob beamed at Sally, thankfully oblivious, “May I have the honor of this dance with you?”

Joan was shocked that Jacob had managed so many words. Given his earlier state, she would have thought his words would have been a jumbled mess.

But no, it was Sally’s words that were the jumbled mess.

“Oh, erm…the dance? Well—”

Joan looked at her friend and mouthed the word, yes . She tried again with, say yes , but still no reply.

“What she means is yes,” Joan answered for Sally as her friend gave her a bewildered, and perhaps a little disappointed look.

“Yes, thank you,” Sally finally said, but the dejection was solid in her tone. Joan felt compelled to act quickly again. She couldn’t go forward in the dance knowing she was hurting Sally. Rather, with Sally feeling hurt. They were different. Really, because Joan knew that in the long run she wasn’t hurting Sally. She was protecting her.

“One moment, James. Jacob, if I may.” She took Sally’s hands in her and rushed a whisper. “You can’t show James how you feel. He’s a rake. If he sees you wearing your heart on your sleeve, he’ll eat you alive. Be calm. Pay attention to Jacob. That kind of behavior might make James jealous.”

“You are so right, Joan. So wise.” It was a boon how trusting Sally was. And it completely reinforced Joan’s resolve to protect her from James. With how trusting Sally was, it was inevitable that she would find herself out on a terrace with a rake. And then a scandal. Fortunately Joan was around and Sally was willingly putting her trust in her dear friend.

Joan could see that Sally’s eyes seemed to clear from whatever fog had descended upon them when Joan had announced her dance with James. In fact, Sally almost looked relieved, if Joan was putting a label on it. Her shoulders were no longer at her ears. Her voice was back to a normal pitch. And more importantly, her fan had ceased fanning.

And even though Joan half-hated herself for deceiving her friend, she could not—would not—let her friend fall for a rake. This was the only way to save Sally’s heart. Surely if she spent enough time with Jacob she would fall in love with him. Joan was praying to the love gods watching this all unfold. Praying that love would take aim—more accurately this time. And then once it had its opening…

Shoot.

Chapter 5

“ I am not a book.” –Joan of Arc

JAMES WAS LEADING JOAN onto the dance floor when she tugged on his arm before the music could start.

“Is there a problem?” James asked over his shoulder.

Oh yes. There was a problem. Joan was not about to dance with a rake, if she could help it. Being led to the floor by him looked bad enough. She hadn’t actually planned to go through with the dancing part.

“We’re not dancing together.”

He laughed. “Not yet, but—”

“No. Not yet or later or anytime. I need a refreshment. I’m feeling—”

With a waggle of his brows, James jumped in— “mischievous?”

Joan just rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get a drink.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, leading her away from the dancers. Thankfully they still had time before the instruments reverberated with sound. Still holding her hand on his forearm, Joan and James found a spot where they could stand discreetly together. It was as if he had read her mind in placing them here.

Here. Where they were apart from the crowd enough to discuss the goings on of the evening. Here. Where they could watch their respective friends hopefully find love. Here. Where (hopefully) no one would judge Joan for spending some time in the notorious rake’s presence.

Taking a sip of his drink, James watched as Jacob shone a brilliant smile at Sally. And Sally…well, she reflected a blurry version back at him.

“So,” James didn’t look at her as he spoke, “are you going to tell me what your plan is? Or shall we continue to test our nonverbal communication skills?”

He noticed it too, then, did he? That was an interesting observation to make…if she was making observations about James. Which she wasn’t.

“I can’t dance with you.” Joan decided to take the direct approach.

“So I gathered by the fact that we’re not dancing.” The amusement in his voice was vexing. Was he laughing at her? Didn’t he realize the risks she was already taking?

“You’re a—erhm…well, you know” —the direct approach was not always so easy to take— “you must know…that you’re a rake,”

James's hand flew to his chest, his mouth falling open. “I can’t believe you said that.” His aghast whisper shouldn’t have given her lips a reason to smirk.

Blasted mouth!

“James, don’t be silly. We have only a few minutes to scheme.”

“Scheme? I like the sound of that. If I wasn’t holding a drink, I would rub my hands together and cackle,” he said this with a sideways glance and a wink.

“You can still cackle.”

“I’ll save you the embarrassment of the eyes you don’t want on you. I understand you’re ashamed of me.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but something in his tone made Joan pause.

“I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Don’t worry yourself over it. You wouldn’t be the first. And I’m sure you won’t be the last.” After a large gulp from his drink, James rested his glass on a passing tray and picked up another.

And even though he had reassured her that she shouldn’t care about how she felt, she felt she needed to reassure him that that wasn’t how she felt. Or something like that.

“James,” she said his name gently, and when his ocean blue eyes met hers, she spoke more sincerely than she intended. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m sure you are a good man. But I’m a lady, and I have a reputation to maintain. So does Sally. That’s why I couldn’t let her dance with you.”

“Well, we agree on one thing. Sally can’t dance with me. Jacob will be heartbroken. He’s smitten.”

Agreement. That’s what Joan liked to hear. “Perfect. We are in agreement then. We must show Sally that falling for Jacob is in her best interest. Or, at the very least, that falling for you is in her worst interest.”

“Ouch!” James’s hand gripped the fabric around his chest. “You wound me.”

“I doubt it. I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“True. So true,” he mumbled. James scanned the room and switched his drink to his other hand. He took a step back and leaned against a pillar to further obscure him from view. “What’s the plan? Shall we stage a rescue? Plot a scandal?”

“Why would we stage a rescue?”

“Don’t all women dream of being rescued by a strong, handsome man?”

Joan, in all her elegance, harrumphed at that. “I think not.”

“You’ve never dreamed of swooning and falling into the arms of a man you found attractive?”

Well, she wasn’t saying that …and sure, Sally had just expressed something eerily similar, but really…to think that all women did was wait around to be rescued…well, that was just…silly.

“Let’s discuss Sally, shall we?”

James laughed at her reply, counting it as a win of sorts. And really, it was.

“Sally needs some…encouragement. Jacob is a gentleman and a worthy eligible bachelor. If we can just shift her attention to him enough, I’m sure she’ll fall for him.”

“Yes. Proximity is the number one reason a couple falls in love in the first place.”

“It is?”

“Well, you can’t very well fall in love with a man you’ve never met or spoken to, can you?”

“I suppose not…though I’m sure somewhere some woman has.”

“Some woman somewhere is not most women everywhere. Let’s scheme according to the most likely rather than the exception, shall we?”

“Agreed.” Joan sipped her lemonade in thought. “Perhaps he can call on her tomorrow with flowers.”

“That’s average at best.”

“It’s the safe, predictable approach.”

“And where does safety get you?” he asked mockingly.

“It’s got me this far.”

James stared openly. In fact, he took that moment to stare at almost every inch of her. Down to her slippered feet, which he couldn’t see but she felt as though he could, and all the way up to the crown of her head. His perusal unnerved her.

“What are you looking at?”

“You.”

“Yes, but what are you looking for?”

“Your suitor.”

“You beast!” she almost swatted him, but held back. And then decided to swat him anyway. “I have had suitors.” A few. None that she had any interest in. None that had been of particular interest to anyone. And if she was being truthful, none that showed a unique interest in her.

“All I’m saying is that you’ve played it safe, and you have no suitors.”

Joan crossed her arms in defiance and her eyes began a steady crawl up and down his body. Trying not to notice how his thighs filled out his breeches. Or how his arms strained at the seams of his jacket. Or his broad shoulders. None of those things mattered. Especially not the slight bulge she caught sight of accidentally, causing her to blush. No. She was trying to make a point. If he could study her, then she could study him.

“What are you looking at?” She knew he would ask that, so she played her hand.

“You,” she said simply.

“And what are you looking for?”

“Your wife.”

He barked out a laugh. “Well played, Joan.” He chuckled again and wiped the mirth from his lips with a giant palm. Oooh! His hands were large. And smooth. “The difference is, I don’t want a wife.”

“That’s quite arrogant, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“You’re saying that you don’t have a wife because you don’t want one. But you’re implying that you could have a wife the second you did want one.”

“Look at me, Joan.”

“I have.”

He chuckled. “I’m a duke. I’m handsome. I’m wealthy. Young. And respected enough. I guarantee you that if I wanted a wife I could have one from this very event, despite the small crowd.”

And she knew he was right. There was absolutely no point in arguing with him. No point. Whatever point she would make would be, well, pointless. She made it anyway.

“You might be able to find a wife, but that doesn’t mean you’d have love.”

He scoffed, and it irked her. “I don’t want that either.”

“You don’t want a wife?” He shook his head. “You don’t want love?” Another shake. “What about the dukedom?”

“That shall go to my cousin.”

“That’s just irresponsible.”

“Really? I think it’s rather the most responsible thing for me to do given my mother—”

But she didn’t let him explain.

“You’re reckless. You throw caution to the wind and don’t care if anything bad happens.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re overly cautious and you’re too worried about even the possibility of something bad happening.”

“You think everything is a joke.”

“You take everything too seriously.”

At this point, Joan was baffled and disoriented. How had she thought that there was any connection between them? The ability to successfully communicate across a room was pure luck. They were two completely different people. She wanted to put more space between them. “Your cologne is too strong.”

“I can hardly detect the lavender scent you’re using to entice the male population.”

“You probably spend your days drinking and gambling.”

“And riding.” He smirked. “And you probably spend your days reading.”

He wasn’t wrong. Again. The man was a nuisance.

“You obviously harbor resentment toward your mother, and my Mama always said that you could tell the character of a man by how he treats his mother.”

James's ocean blue eyes turned stormy, “Only a controlling and self-serving woman would say that.”

“I’d ask you not to speak ill of the dead.” Joan had stepped right in front of James, only a half of a foot between them. She was infuriated now.

But then James closed his mouth. She expected another retort. When he still said nothing, she supposed even a rake knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. But it wasn’t the words that spoke to her. It was his hand. His fingers had somehow found hers and were sweeping side to side over her knuckles. It was wildly inappropriate, but she couldn’t pull away. It was a tender gesture. Even his eyes had calmed.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not—”

“Let’s just discuss Sally and Jacob.”

“Fine.” And Joan wasn’t sure if he said the word in jest or not.

Joan took command of the conversation. “When the dance is done, we should greet them and explain how I needed a drink.” James nodded along, obviously placating her now. “And then we can suggest that Jacob pay her a call tomorrow. Perhaps go for a carriage ride.”

“Wait. What if she tries to wrangle me into a dance again?”

“She won’t.” The arrogance of this man. To think that Sally would act so contrary to societal norms and ask him for a dance. Again.

“But what if she does?”

“She won’t.” Joan said with vehemence. Really, the man needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

“How can you be so sure?”

“She just danced with a man completely besotted with her. Surely she felt something. I can’t see her being audacious enough to try again. Especially in front of Jacob.” Joan knew Sally. She was quiet. Shy. Of course she would fall for Jacob, she just needed to be placed in his arms for a dance.

“But she might…”

“She won’t.”

But then she did.