Page 8 of Two Secrets to Surrender (Blackwood Legacy #2)

Chapter Seven

M r. David Duffield—“Duffy” to intimates—poured a cup of tea and set it on the counter in front of Gigi. As the draper, he owned one of the most popular shops in Chuddums. Women from around the county patronized his establishment and not just because of his exquisite taste in fabrics. In his early thirties, Duffy was a dapper blond Adonis, and his current ensemble—a forest-green frock coat, striped waistcoat, and pair of tan trousers—showed off his fit physique. While the ladies secretly, and some not so secretly, swooned over his looks, they also basked in his attention. For Duffy was unfailingly patient and kind, and when one visited his shop, he made one feel like a long-lost friend.

At least, that was how Gigi had felt the first time she’d come in. She and Duffy had hit it off immediately. Being a man of fashion, he was versed in the latest London trends and gossip, and they shared a similar sense of humor and view of the world. Over time, their friendship had deepened, and she’d confided in him about personal matters. He’d done the same with her. Now he was one of her closest friends, and she trusted him with the secret burdens of her heart. Thus, she’d come during the half-hour when he was closed for lunch to seek his counsel. Her maid, Colette, discreetly wandered the aisles, giving Gigi and Duffy privacy to catch up.

“Lord Owen hasn’t left his room?” Duffy’s hazel eyes were warm with empathy.

“No. He was still there when I left.”

Picking up the porcelain cup patterned with cornflowers, Gigi took a glum sip as she looked around the shop. She took comfort in the cozy space, which smelled of newly cut velvet and lemony wood polish. Bolts of fabric were sorted by type and color and beautifully arranged on the walls and along the aisles. Scattered tables allowed Duffy to unroll fabrics for his patrons’ perusal. At the counter where they were seated upon plush, upholstered stools, Duffy kept a pot of tea and plate of biscuits at the ready.

“He didn’t even come out when Ethan went to knock on his door,” she said. “Given what happened between them, that was an act of grace on Ethan’s part.”

Duffy nodded. She didn’t have to explain because, little by little, she’d confided her history. He understood because he, too, came from a loving family that nonetheless had its struggles. A few years ago, he had left his parents’ London home to strike out on his own and ended up in Chuddums.

“You tried your best,” he said gently. “One can only lead a horse to water.”

“I thought things were getting better.” Gigi hated the hitch in her voice, which made her sound and feel like the little girl she’d once been. “Ethan is finally himself again, and he and Owen are on speaking terms. When James visits, we have merry times like we used to. Owen hasn’t touched alcohol for months, and Mama and Papa trusted his sobriety enough to take a much-needed vacation. But now we are back to where we started.”

“A setback does not erase the progress that’s been made. You mustn’t give up hope. Your brother will come around in his own time.”

“I want him to come around now . I miss him,” she admitted. “I miss our family…and the way things used to be.”

“I know, my dear.”

She blew out a breath. “But I cannot make Owen’s choices for him, can I?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Instead, I should focus on something I can control?”

“A splendid idea. Whoever came up with that suggestion must have been one clever fellow.”

Since Duffy had given her this advice on multiple occasions, she laughed. “The absolute cleverest. Now that I’ve bent your ear with my tale of woe, are there any catastrophes in your life you’d care to discuss?”

“No catastrophes.” Duffy’s smile faltered. “Just missed opportunities.”

Duffy didn’t have to explain because he’d, little by little, confided his history and the events that led to his departure from London. He’d been wary about opening up, and Gigi understood why. As a Harrington, she’d been raised to value love and loyalty in all its forms. It was the gravest injustice that society would not permit a man with Duffy’s generous heart to love as he wished.

“You haven’t talked to Mr. Keane?” Gigi asked quietly.

A recent arrival to Chuddums, Mr. Keane had opened a smithy three blocks away. Dark-haired and brawny, he wore a patch over his right eye that enhanced his piratical appearance. He was also stoic, prone to grunts and one-word replies.

“I tried.” Duffy sighed. “Last week, I went in just before he closed and asked if working at the forge made him thirsty.”

“And?”

“He said yes.”

“Yes, meaning he wanted to get a pint at the tavern?”

“I haven’t the faintest. His exact reply was, ‘Yes,’ and when I waited for him to say more, he started pounding on a horseshoe as if the conversation was over. Perhaps it was for him.”

“Oh, dear,” Gigi murmured. “I see how that could be confusing.”

“Confusing and risky, if I misread his interest,” Duffy said somberly. “Well, I’ve given him sufficient cues. I’d best take my own advice and focus on more productive matters. In fact, Miss Letty came in earlier this morning to check on the order for towels, which should arrive later this week. She mentioned that the two of you had a visitor yesterday.”

Botheration .

Even Duffy didn’t know about her kiss with the stranger by the stream, and she wasn’t keen on sharing her recent kiss either. Especially now that she knew the man she’d secretly fantasized about for months was a notorious industrialist. Luckily, Gigi had received word from Letty saying that she’d turned down Godwin’s offer.

“What did Miss Letty say about Mr. Godwin?” Gigi asked warily.

“That he is intent on buying the bath.” Duffy’s brow pleated. “Do you know why he’s interested in Chuddums, of all places?”

“I assume it’s part of some money-making scheme,” she said darkly. “If he were to get his hands on the spa, he would undoubtedly squeeze every drop of profit from it. Or raze it to build something even more profitable. According to the papers, Mr. Godwin’s modus operandi is increasing revenue at any cost. Even if that means destroying lives in the process.”

“His reputation is rather cold-blooded. They say that he’s calculating and enigmatic. What is the fellow like in the flesh?”

The mention of Conrad Godwin’s flesh caused a flutter in Gigi’s belly.

“He is just a man,” she said dismissively. “Like any other.”

“Really?” Duffy arched a brow. “According to the wags, he oozes animal magnetism.”

“Mr. Godwin possesses no special powers, I assure you. He’s an average fellow with deep pockets.”

“Wealth does inflate a man’s reputation, doesn’t it?” Duffy said sagely. “The industrialists I encountered in London were pale, spindly coves hunched over from too much time at the desk. And do not get me started about the dukes?—”

The bell over the door tinkled.

“How strange. I must have forgotten to lock up.” In a genial voice, Duffy called, “I am afraid we are closed for lunch…”

His gaze widened, his jaw slackening. Twisting around on her stool, Gigi saw what—or who , rather—had caused this reaction. Dressed in a rich navy overcoat, a smart hat dipping rakishly over his brow, Conrad Godwin strode in like he owned the place.

She rose, ready to face her nemesis. Duffy got to him first.

“Welcome to my humble establishment, sir.” Duffy bowed as if he were greeting a king. “How may I be of assistance today?”

“As it happens, I have found what I’m looking for.” Godwin locked his sea-green gaze on her. “Good afternoon, Miss Harrington. I am delighted to see you again.”

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that the blackguard had discovered her identity. He was the sort of man who went into battle prepared.

“I am surprised to see you, Mr. Godwin,” she said coolly.

Her reply was meant to be an insult. However, his mouth merely quirked as if he found her… amusing ? She narrowed her eyes.

In the tense silence, Duffy cleared his throat. “ You are Conrad Godwin?”

As Gigi went to the back of the shop, she caught Colette’s worried expression and Duffy’s knowing one. The latter raised his brows and mouthed, “ A man like any other? Average? ”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “This will only take a few minutes.”

She closed the velvet curtains and, squaring her shoulders, faced her adversary. The space served as Duffy’s storage and work room, with bolts of fabric heaped on large worktables and trimmings overflowing from cabinets along the walls. With his outsized masculinity, Godwin ought to have looked ridiculous standing next to a dressmaker’s form draped with pink satin and lace, but he didn’t. The blasted man had the confidence to look at home anywhere.

Admittedly, Godwin was far from average and not just because of his self-assurance. He exuded a force more potent than mere charm. His calculating Viking’s gaze held one captive while his striking virility overpowered one’s resolve. He was the kind of fellow who would pillage your village and make you think he’d done you a favor.

In other words, you must tread carefully. Discover why he wants Letty’s property. Try to dissuade him from his plans, and failing that, impress upon him that the spa is not for sale.

“What are you doing here?” she asked stiffly.

“I’ve asked myself that question countless times in the last hour. There I was, minding my own business in the square, when I was taken hostage by some old codger who insisted on giving me a tour.”

At the mention of the “codger,” Gigi smothered a grin. Wally was the village’s oldest and friendliest resident. Although age had slowed him down, he remained spry and took his self-appointed duties as Chuddums’s one-man welcoming party seriously. His infamous tours could last for hours, filled with minutiae that could be fascinating or deadly dull, depending on one’s perspective.

“You’ve met Mr. Walford, I take. Did you enjoy his tour?” she asked innocently.

“I thought I might be his age by the time it ended.”

At Godwin’s unexpected wit, Gigi felt a quiver of amusement…which she quickly quelled. The fact that he had a sense of humor didn’t make him any less cold-blooded. And while she could bend the rules of propriety, she couldn’t ignore them completely. She only had a few minutes to settle matters with him. As antagonism hadn’t served her well the last time, she would try a different approach.

Remember this, dearest Gigi. Mama’s words flitted through her head. It is easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

Dear God. Papa had given Mama a wry look. Our daughter already has your looks. If you teach her charm as well, the gentlemen won’t have a fighting chance.

Gigi put on a beguiling smile, one that usually had gentlemen scrambling to do her bidding. “I wouldn’t think a place like Chuddums would hold any interest for a man like you?—”

“What sort of man is that, Miss Harrington?”

When he lifted his brows, her cheeks warmed. Since her debut, she’d been celebrated for her poise and breezy command of any social situation, yet this fellow wreaked havoc on her equilibrium. Around him, she felt as if she were tottering on too-high heels, constantly trying to find her balance.

“An accomplished man of business.” She made a graceful recovery. “Stories of your professional prowess precede you, sir.”

“The last time we spoke, my prowess didn’t seem to impress you. I believe you accused me of instigating riots and destroying lives.”

Dash him and his memory like an elephant’s.

“We got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize for my part in it,” she said smoothly. “Be that as it may, there is no need for hostility between us. In fact, I believe we can find common ground.”

“We have, and it’s called the Chudleigh Bottoms’s World Famous Roman Bath,” he countered. “Convince your friend to sell it to me, and I’ll give her a price she won’t get anywhere else.”

“It is not about money?—”

“Everything is about money. Or power. Which is, essentially, the same thing.”

She drew her brows together. “How did you get to be so cynical?”

“I’ve lived, sweetheart. I’m thirty-one, and I’ve seen more of the world than you have.”

He reached out a gloved hand and tweaked her chin as if she were a tot . Before she could recover from her shock, he sent her reeling again.

“Given your sheltered existence, your innocence is understandable, and I won’t hold it against you. But your little games will stop. Now.”

Her temples began to pound. “I am not playing any games?—”

“Then what is this?” Reaching into the pocket of his greatcoat, he removed a bottle of Chuddums water.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was a gift from Wally. He insisted that I sample the ‘love potion’ that saved Chuddums’s spa. He also credited you with being the brains behind the racket.”

While Gigi adored Wally, in this instance, she wished he did not talk quite so much.

“It is not a racket,” she said stiffly.

“Please.” Godwin curled his lip. “You’re peddling a bottle of water that costs three times a pint of ale. You’re robbing folks blind with this clever swindle of yours.”

“It is not a swindle if it’s true .”

He laughed humorlessly. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen prey to your own ridiculous scheme.”

“It is a point of fact that people who’ve taken the water have found their true love,” she said hotly. “As of last count, I know of a dozen happy couples in London and at least as many here in Chuddums?—”

“That is claptrap, and you know it. No damned water exists that can bring about true love.” He paused, sneering. “And true love’s probably a figment of the imagination as well.”

The man was unbelievable .

She clenched her hands. “If you’re certain that neither love nor an elixir for it exists, then I am sure you have no qualms drinking the water.”

He quirked an eyebrow. Uncorking the bottle, he downed the contents in several swigs. He clanged the empty vessel onto the worktable.

“Satisfied?” Mockery glinted in his eyes.

“We’ll see who has the last laugh when you fall head over heels in love,” she retorted.

“Wait.” He paused, placing a hand over his heart. “I do feel something. Something strange…”

She tilted her head. While she believed in the potion’s power, its effects were usually not this immediate. “What do you feel?”

“Never mind. It was dyspepsia.” He flashed strong, white teeth. “Probably from the hashed mutton the Briarbush Inn served for lunch.”

“You are a cad .”

“And you are a privileged young woman with too much time on your hands,” he said flatly. “Find another little hobby to occupy yourself with, my lady, and stop meddling in my business. If you continue to stand in the way of progress, I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

Until that moment, she’d never understood the meaning of seeing red. All her life, she’d struggled to be taken seriously—to not have her abilities and ideas discounted because of her gender and age. Godwin’s patronizing tone caused a scarlet cloud to fog her brain.

“Is that a threat ?” she gritted out. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

His lips twisted. “Never said I was, duchess.”

“Do not address me in that manner. I am not a duchess.”

“Right. You are merely the daughter of a marquess. A lady with a reputation to protect.”

His wintry-green gaze was that of a marauder: cold and shrewd. She shivered, knowing that he was assessing her weaknesses so that he could exploit them.

Her pulse racing, she said, “If you’re insinuating that you intend to blackmail me?—”

“I’m not a man who insinuates. I say it, or I don’t. And I am not going to blackmail you.”

“Because you are above extortion?”

“No.” He shrugged, her insult pinging harmlessly off his steel-clad arrogance. “Because anything I would use to blackmail you would incriminate me as well. I have no desire to pay the matrimonial piper for our little indiscretions. Delightful as they were.”

Pay the matrimonial piper? While she didn’t account herself a prideful lady, she’d had dozens of proposals since her come-out, from men of rank and wealth. They’d considered her a prize, not some dashed price to pay. Moreover, Godwin’s trivialization of the intimacies they’d shared was more than a little insulting.

Her fingernails bit into her palms. “I wouldn’t marry you if?—”

“Is it necessary to finish that sentence? We both know how it ends.”

“You are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I hate you!”

“Yes, well, I have that effect on people. Listen, sweetheart.” His gaze hardened even as his voice strangely gentled. “You don’t want to take on a man like me. You’re meant for better things. For ballrooms and blue-blooded blokes who’ll serenade you with poetry and shower you with jewels. Why do you care about a stupid country spa? Go back to London like a good girl and find another hobby. Leave the dirty business of life to others better suited for it.”

A. Good. Girl?

Something in her snapped. Before she knew it, her hand was flying toward his face. He caught her wrist in an iron grip. She swung with her other hand, and he grabbed that one too. The next thing she knew, he’d backed her up against a wall, pinning her hands above her head. Although she struggled, he kept her manacled in place.

Her bosom heaving, she glared up at him. “Let me go.”

“You don’t want to play games with me,” he warned.

“I’m not playing games. And this isn’t some little hobby ,” she hissed. “Miss Letty is my friend, and I will not let you destroy her birthright. Why do you want her spa, anyway? A man with your predatory nature surely has bigger game to hunt unless…unless the spa and its waters are worth more than you’ve let on?”

“No one will pay her more for that damned place than I am willing to,” he said with soft menace. “My reasons for wanting to acquire it are my own. Now I am telling you politely to stay out of my way.”

“This is politely ?” Pointedly, she tugged on her wrists, pushing her face into his. “You’re nothing but a brute!”

“I am a brute.” He leaned over her, as if to prove his point. “Which is why you ought to heed me, duchess.”

“For the last time, do not call me that!”

“Stop acting like a spoiled brat whining about a lost toy, and I will.”

The unfairness of his accusation made blood rush in her ears.

“You’re the most arrogant, heartless, callous bounder ?—”

“But you still want me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your lips say one thing, your nipples another.”

Even as her jaw slackened at his uncouth assertion, she became aware that her bosom was surging violently…against his chest. Beneath her bodice, the tips of her breasts were stiff and throbbing. Even so, with the layers of clothing between them, he couldn’t possibly ascertain the state of her anatomy.

“You can’t possibly…” She failed to find a genteel way to argue her point.

“Feel your nipples? No, I can’t, and more’s the pity. But I’m right, aren’t I?” he said in a low voice. “They’re full and aching, ripe as berries.”

He leaned into her, the friction of his hard chest turning the tingles into dangerous sparks. She couldn’t break her gaze from his, which was no longer smoldering with antagonism but with something hotter and hungrier. Deliberately, he slid his chest against her breasts, back and forth, and a helpless sound broke from her lips.

He bent his head, his breath warm against her ear. “That feels nice, doesn’t it, duchess?”

Pleasure swirled over her skin.

“No, it doesn’t,” she lied.

“Almost as nice as the last time you rubbed yourself against me.” His voice was low and hypnotic. “Christ, that felt good. I can’t stop thinking about how wet and sleek you were, little nymph. Truth be told, I’ve done more than think about it.”

Although she didn’t understand his admission entirely, his tone left no doubt that what he’d done was wicked. Recalling her own naughty fantasies, she shivered.

“You’re so sweet when you submit to me,” he said.

She stiffened. “Submit? I’m not submitting to anything?—”

“If you are wise, you will. Get out of my way, Gigi. Before we do something we both regret.”

Duffy’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Er, is everything all right back there?”

Coming to her senses, Gigi yanked her hands from Godwin’s grip, and this time he let her go. Scooting away from him, she hastily put herself to rights. He took undue care adjusting the front of his coat.

“All is well,” she called out.

Duffy poked his head through the curtains, his gaze bouncing between her and Godwin. “I have patrons rattling the door to come in, but if you need more time?—”

“We’re done,” Godwin said. “I hope you’ll take my advice, Miss Harrington. Good day to you both.”

With a smart bow, he strode to the back door and let himself out.

She debated the wisdom of chasing after him and kicking him in the shin.

“By Jove.” Duffy fanned himself with his hand. “Is it just me, dear, or has the temperature suddenly risen?”