Say Yes to the Duke (13 page)

The door opened when he was beginning to carve away at the shape of the horse’s head.
And there Lady Janice stood, red cheeked and openmouthed, as if preparing herself
to be shocked. “Are the puppies all right?” she asked without preamble. “I’m not supposed
to be here. But I came.”

He rose from his seat and dropped the wooden form into a canvas bag. Something in
him—the foolish part—was temporarily overcome with a nonsensical delight in seeing
her face. “The puppies are fine,” he said easily.

“
All
of them?”

“Yes.”

“And Esmeralda?” Janice pulled the door shut behind her.

“Exhausted but well.”

Janice’s brow furrowed. “This isn’t about Oscar, is it? He’s not—”

“He’s recovered nicely.”

“Good.” Luke saw a visible relaxing of her shoulders. “Then what is it? You put the
lantern in the window. Is there an astonishing development—in a good way? If so, what
could it be?” she asked before he could answer. “Have their eyes opened?”

“Not a one.”

“Then why did you put the lantern in the window?”

Ribbons of heat from the coal stove warmed his back, but she’d let in cold air and
his face, belly, and thighs were freezing.
She can make them warm again,
he couldn’t help thinking as she pulled off her bonnet, revealing a long, blond braid.

He had a sudden sense of indecision. Perhaps he shouldn’t tell her what he was going
to tell her. She was sweet. Innocent. Kind. He was wrong to involve her. He should
wait. There would be other women coming up the drive, and one of them might work.

Or not.

Should he choose a random hope—or a sure prospect?

“Because I named the last puppy,” he said calmly, although he wasn’t calm at all.
She agitated him in a way he never had been before. And he’d not named the puppy.

But he must lure her in.

Her face lit up. “What did you name it?”

“I’ll tell you when we see it.” He picked up the lantern and indicated with his hand
that he wanted her to go ahead of him. “Esmeralda is anxious to show all of them off.”

After dinner, he’d picked each pup up and told their mother what a fine specimen of
dog it was. But he made sure to do so when no one was near.

Lady Janice’s face registered even more pleasure. “Is she proud?” She advanced eagerly,
and they walked side by side past the quiet stalls. “How can you tell?”

“She makes it very clear by her expression. Her upper lip catches in her teeth, and
her eyes follow me everywhere. It’s as if she’s waiting for me to notice them.”

“Oh,” Janice breathed. “How sweet.”

She cast a brief, curious glance up at him, as if she wasn’t sure what to think of
him. And he felt his own reaction: half lust, half something else so compelling that
it made his natural tendency to lightheartedness feel inadequate—for the first time
since he could remember.

As soon as they turned a corner and she saw a glowing stall at the other end of the
row, she left him behind.

He stifled his amusement. She was enthusiastic, to say the least. And beautiful, walking
swiftly with her braid bouncing on her coat.

Too beautiful.

He forced himself to ignore the perfection of her profile as she fumbled with the
door. She was already inside and crouched by Esmeralda when he hung the lantern on
a nail on the outer stall wall and walked through the half door to join her.

Over her shoulder, she grinned. “They’re having a late supper.”

He crossed his arms and decided he must wait patiently for her to get past her initial
elation at the sight. He owed her at least this small pleasure.

“When
will
their eyes open?” she asked, almost petulant.

“Perhaps in a week,” he said.

A small pucker furrowed her brow at his answer, but she moved on, holding up the white
puppy who’d been in such distress when he was born. “What’s his name?”

“Theseus.” Luke had only just now decided.

She laughed. “This little thing?” She put her nose up to his own tiny one and laughed
again, then looked up at Luke. “So you know the Greek myths?”

“Of course.”

She looked down, and he could see that she was embarrassed for having asked.

“I read,” he explained with no heat. To show her that he wasn’t offended, he sprawled
next to her in the hay, his palms on the floor behind him, his legs spread wide.

She met his eyes again. “I’m so glad,” she said shyly. “I think everyone should learn
to read. My mother and younger sister and I have been teaching several lads in our
stable in London.”

When he didn’t reply, she went back to looking at the wriggling white puppy. Luke
simply watched her hold the furry creature—and could admit to himself that he enjoyed
the sight very much.

Too much.

“Why Theseus, though?” She chuckled, her eye still on the pup. “Is he destined to
save many other dogs from being eaten by a Minotaur?”

“One never knows where a Minotaur will pop up,” Luke said. “They take many forms.”

She cast him a sideways glance. “You tend to assume the worst, don’t you? A monster
around every corner…”

“There often is. I’d rather be prepared for them than not. And a good dog stays alert,
too.”

“Well, I’m glad he has such a weighty name.” She laid the puppy back down. “It suits
him, considering the drama he’s already brought to the day of his birth.”

Once again, Luke said nothing. He was trying to ascertain the best time to tell her
she was working for him, whether she wanted to or not. He hated to ruin her agreeable
mood—but he told himself that his reticence had nothing to do with the fact that when
she was like this something dark and heavy in him dissolved. Disappeared. And left
him—

Happy.

If happiness was wanting to stay in this moment.

No, he was delaying the inevitable. He knew he wouldn’t enjoy having a furious female
on his hands. He’d already seen this one in action when she was angry. A new onslaught
was bound to come at him. And although the wall he’d built around himself was impenetrable,
her flailing at it, useless as that thrashing was, made him—dare he say it?

Sad.

Gad, that was a feeble word. But if sadness was wishing that everything could change
instantly, then it was the right word.

She sat facing him now, her hands wrapped around her knees. “I’m glad you signaled
to me,” she said quietly. “I had a rather difficult evening and wasn’t sure how I
should sleep.”

Deuce take it, now she was confiding in him. He should stop this nonsense. He didn’t
care
what her petty concerns were. Or he shouldn’t. He actually did want to know why her
evening was difficult.

Damn her for drawing him in. “Would this have anything to do with His Grace?” he asked
dryly.

“You’re very disrespectful,” she said.

“I mean to be.”

Her gaze slid away to the puppies. “Halsey’s intimidating. But he’s not shown any
signs of being
wicked.
” She was scornful on the last word.

“Oh?” Luke waited.

Esmeralda yawned loudly. One puppy whimpered and wriggled, but the rest had given
up on their midnight snack and were sleeping soundly, their tiny rib cages rising
and falling in unison.

Finally, Lady Janice turned away from the heartwarming sight to look at him. “I sense
he has a temper when he doesn’t get his way, all right?” Her cheeks reddened. “But
he’s a duke. They’re supposed to get what they want. And he showed remarkable restraint
with me tonight. Believe me, I pushed him to the brink of impatience.”

“You?”

She nodded and sighed. “Don’t ask me to tell you why. You won’t approve. Not that
I
need
your approval.” She sent him a threatening look, which he refused to acknowledge.

“You want to tell me,” he said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

They were speaking low. Neither wanted to disturb Esmeralda and the puppies or awaken
one of Luke’s fellow stable hands.

Lady Janice pressed her fingers to her eyelids and sighed. “All right. I’m pursuing
the duke, after all. Me. The girl who didn’t receive even one offer this past Season.”

Everything in Luke hated her plan. He couldn’t help leaning forward. “Why?”

She dropped her hands. “Because I’m tired of having no power. He’s a duke. He has
plenty. And he can share it.” She let a beat of silence pass. “I know you thought
I was after him when I arrived this afternoon. But I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you now? Don’t you have a great deal of influence already, as the daughter
of a marquess? Why do you suddenly want more?”

Her face took on a closed expression. “I have very little control over my own fate.
And as for why I need more power, I won’t discuss it, other than to say that I heard
something today which changed everything for me. It made me realize that I have to
take my future into my own hands. Which is why I’ll throw my hat into the ring.”

“Like the other women who appeared on the driveway.” The irony wasn’t lost upon Luke.

Or her, either. She looked none too happy. “I suppose so.”

And it came to him then how wrong he was to make that sort of dig. “You’re not like
the others,” he told her.

It took everything in him to say those words. It was an apology. But deep down, it
was also an admission. He found her different from every woman he’d ever known. She
was special somehow. To him. He didn’t know why.

“What if I
am
like the others?” She looked at him with accusing eyes. “Who are you to judge? If
a woman is scheming, it’s because she’s trying to survive.”

He knew that. He
knew
that. He’d felt sorry for those women who’d come down the driveway before her. His
own mother had become a desperate woman. But he wasn’t going to tell Lady Janice she
was right. He’d said his piece. She could take it or leave it.

He wasn’t in the business of making people like him.

She sighed. “I know that was your way of trying to apologize, Mr. Callahan. As such,
I accept it.”

More irony. This time extremely bitter. She wouldn’t accept any of his apologies if
she knew that he planned to bring down the very man she hoped would solve her problems.

Luke wished he could tell her right now that she might as well give up on trying to
win over the current master of Halsey House. That man was Grayson Hildebrand, Luke’s
first cousin. Their fathers had been brothers.

The circus maid had been right. Luke’s real name was Lucius Seymour Peter George Hildebrand,
and he was the rightful seventh Duke of Halsey. And if it was the last thing he did,
he’d reclaim the title on behalf of every woman hurt by Grayson or Grayson’s father,
Russell—from Luke’s own mother almost thirty years ago to the desperate women who
entered Halsey House now, to the nuns running St. Mungo’s Orphanage, the only home
Luke had ever known, where his mother lay buried in an unmarked grave.

But he couldn’t tell Lady Janice any part of his history. It would put both their
lives—and his objective—in serious jeopardy. He despised being trapped this way. He’d
never been pinned in a wrestling match. But he felt pinned now. He knew that marrying
Halsey would only be a disaster for her, but Luke couldn’t tell her that—yet. All
he could do for now was keep reminding her that his cousin wasn’t a good man.

“Pushing Halsey to the brink of impatience will help you win him?” he asked her now.
“It seems an unlikely strategy.”

“His grandmother told me that the only way to capture his interest is to tell him
no,” she said. “He’s so used to everyone kowtowing to him, you see.”

“So you’re listening to his grandmother.”

She nodded. “It’s the oddest thing, her switching back and forth between being the
dowager and being the Queen, but she’s very convincing.”

“Telling him no should be easy for you.” Luke lofted a brow.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re good at being defiant. Kicking. Slapping. Throwing. I’ve seen you do them
all.” He knew he was being unfair, but there was something illogical in him now, something
that enjoyed goading her, and he had a feeling it had everything to do with the fact
that he was frustrated.
Very
frustrated. And not only about the fact that he couldn’t be honest with her about
his own plans for Grayson.

Luke wanted her. She was so close, he could smell her hair and her skin.

And he couldn’t have her.

She deserved a man who’d stay, not someone like him, who’d never be able to give her
what she needed.

She sat up on her knees, her eyes glittering with indignation. “You earned all that.
You shouldn’t have yanked me out of my father’s carriage and kissed me.”

He grabbed her wrist. “I’d do it all over again.”

She pulled back, but he held tight. Their gazes locked. She was so beautiful, he could
barely breathe.

“I have something to tell you,” he said, “and you’re not going to like it. It’s the
real reason I brought you here tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “It wasn’t because you named the puppy?”

He released her. “Do you really think that counts as an astonishing development?”

“Yes.” She rubbed her wrist and glared at him. “I was sure you wouldn’t do it. I
was
surprised.”

“Well, that was a ploy to get you over here.”

“Oh?” She scrambled to her feet. “This had better be good, Mr. Callahan. I don’t have
patience with men who mislead me.”

“Has one misled you before?”

“None of your business.” She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her
chest.

He wasn’t a laughing man. But part of him wanted to grin at how ineffectual her threatening
expression was. And the other part of him wanted to strip her of her coat and clothes
and kiss away that frown and any bad memories she’d accrued from whoever had hurt
her.

All the more reason to be careful around her. He didn’t want to be the next man to
cause her pain. “Sit, Lady Janice,” he said gently.