An Unlikely Duchess (13 page)

Rebecca’s heart was in her mouth. He looked absolutely terrifying. She could not imagine that any man, any
person
would ever want to cross him. He looked like an avenging angel— beautiful, dark and angrier than she had ever seen a person.

“Please,” she tried again, placing a restraining hand on his arm. He was trembling with fury. Goodness, it really wasn’t that bad!

“Please, you must calm down. Truly it is not as bad as all that. As you can see, I am unharmed. He let me go almost as soon as he grabbed me. It will be worse for me if you do anything, can you not see that?”

“No, I cannot! You did nothing wrong.”

“Your grace, Hartridge. My mother really does not need to hear another story of my being mixed up in something — unsavoury. She will not care whether it was my fault or not! Please.”

Rebecca sounded so distressed that Edward was torn. How could he justifiably let this incident go without action or comment? At the very least he must tell her father. But she looked so distressed and was begging him. And touching him.

So, against his better judgement and mostly because she was still touching him, he conceded.

“Very well. Though it gives me no pleasure, I will keep it secret. But” —he clasped her shoulders and stared down into her eyes— “you must promise me that you will not travel out alone and that you will tell someone immediately if he so much as looks at you. Do you understand me?”

He was serious. Rebecca could tell. And she was so grateful to him she would have agreed to just about anything. Besides, she’d already decided not to walk alone in the future. And she may yet tell Papa. But she did not want to think about that right now.

“I promise,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

They gazed at each other and once again that unmistakeable crackle seemed to build. Both were aware of it and both were powerless to stop it.

If he kissed her now Rebecca would not object, though she should. She trembled in anticipation. The truth was, she had been longing to feel his kiss since last night.

Edward stared at her, that strange mix of lust and protectiveness swirling around him. He could kiss her now and knew he would be lost, knew that she would not stop him. His whole body screamed at him to take her into his arms. And yet…

She’d been through a frightening ordeal with that damned Mr. Simons. He would not take advantage of her, or scare her even more with the power of his desire for her. He knew that she was not scared of him, but to add to her uncertainty now, after all that had happened this morning? His conscience would not allow it, though the rest of him was doing the utmost to shut his conscience up.

He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss gently on her forehead. He should be sainted! Then, without another word, he gathered the reigns of the horse, offered her his arm and they set off toward the house.

Was that it?
Rebecca frowned in consternation as she took his proffered arm and began walking back. A kiss on her head? Her head? She’d been certain that he’d been about to kiss her. Really kiss her, not a brotherly peck on her head. Did he not want to kiss her? Had he not enjoyed their last kiss? She felt sure that he’d been as affected as she, but perhaps not?

Or maybe it was this nasty business with Mr. Simons. Perhaps he thought that Rebecca was somehow to blame? That she had encouraged that man’s advances? Or that she went around kissing men the way she had kissed him last night?

The thought was depressing. Well, if he was to judge her based on her behaviour with him he was a hypocrite! Of course, it did not help matters that she’d as good as told him that she went around kissing men.

But he was hardly an innocent. Even a peck on the forehead was enough to turn her to a quivering wreck. And she was quite sure that being a handsome young duke lent him a lot of sway with ladies. Why, he’d almost had an apoplexy when she implied he wasn’t a very good kisser! That meant that he had experience, coming out his ears most likely.

How dare he stand in judgement of her when his behaviour was doubtless a thousand times worse?

On and on went her thoughts, while her temper rose higher and higher. And so it was that by the time they reached the house, he had put her into a towering rage without uttering a single word.

The house loomed into view and Edward turned toward the stables. Rebecca removed her arm from his, quite forcibly he thought, and began to stomp off in the opposite direction.

“Rebecca?” What the devil was going on now?

“What?” she shouted back over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

She spun round as if he had given her the most heinous insult and marched back over to him.

“Do not worry yourself, your grace.”

They were back to ‘your grace’?

“I am going to my room. I will not be doing anything that your virtuous self could find fault with.”

What in God’s name? She was angry that much was clear. And though he would never claim to have a handle on the female psyche, he had to admit that this sudden outburst seemed more irrational than usual. They literally had not spoken since their conversation about Mr. Simons. It was impossible for him to have done anything to warrant this! He suddenly felt his own anger rising to meet hers.

He’d bloody well been the perfect gentleman. Sacrificed his own wants to do what was best for the little shrew and this was his reward? To have her shout at him? It was the outside of enough.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Do not shout at me.”

“I am not shouting,” he shouted.

She raised a disdainful eyebrow and the last of his control slipped. This bloody woman had been driving him slowly mad since he arrived here.

“I always suspected that females were quite mad. I am sure I’ve never yet met a one who could compare to you, however.”

“Oh I am well aware of your low opinion of me, you being such a paragon of virtue.”

What?
His head was beginning to thump. They were very close to the house now and he was aware that at any moment someone might happen upon them arguing in public like a pair of children. But he did not care a jot.

“My low opinion of you? What the blazes are you talking about?”

“I am talking about
you—
”

Did she just poke him?

“Thinking you are so
perfect—
”

Ouch. That hurt!

“Thinking you can look down on us mere mortals who fall so short of your God-like expectations.”

If she poked him again she would leave a mark for Christ’s sake. He already had a lump from when she’d belted him the night before!

“Madam. Will you desist from poking me?” he bellowed.

His roar seemed to bring her up short and she stepped back from him, though her fists were still clenched and her breathing heavy.

She was beautiful when she was angry. But that was of no matter.

“Now. You will explain what it is you are talking about.”

“Don’t you dare presume to tell me what to do.”

He’d never felt so exasperated in his life! He wanted to tear his hair out, or hit something, or kiss her senseless.

“What are you talking about?” That was louder than he intended and echoed around the open grounds surrounding them.

“You! You and your pious judgement of me. You obviously think I encouraged that horrible Mr. Simons or else why would you not want to kiss me?”

Rebecca threw her hands to her mouth as soon as the words left her mouth, as if she wished she could hold them in. It was too late of course. They’d already been spoken.

He looked at her incredulously. Could she really think that? And there he’d been, patting himself on the back for treating her so well. The mind truly did boggle. He could not bloody win.

“Want to kiss you?” he ground out angrily. “I’ve been slowly expiring trying to keep my damned hands off you.”

“Why?” she asked mutinously.

“Because I am trying to be a gentleman!” he yelled once again.

Granted, it was not the most gentlemanly behaviour, to be roaring at her in the middle of her own garden. But the chit was really beyond exasperating.

“Nobody asked you to be a gentleman.”

God she was a stubborn little miss.

“So you would prefer I ruin you, is that it? And what will you tell your sister then, hmm?”

Her face paled and he knew he’d gone too far, yet something kept him going, spurred him on to say more. Perhaps if he hurt her, pushed her away, she would do what he could not and break the bond that was forming between them.

“Or has this been your plan all along? Ensnare the duke meant for your sister? Do one better than she? Finally be something more than a disappointment to your family?”

He was cut short by the sting of her small hand connecting with his cheek.

Rebecca looked horrified by her behaviour and stumbled back.

Her eyes were huge and filled with hurt. Tears brimmed then began to descend freely down her cheeks.

He knew he’d done it then. Pushed her away. But instead of feeling satisfied, he felt an acute pain that he’d never felt before and all at once he regretted what he’d said.

He stepped forward and made to reach for her, to apologise to ease her hurt.

But she pulled away from him with a little cry of despair. Shaking her head she turned on her heel and ran toward the house.

Edward made to follow her but stopped himself after a couple of steps. Follow her? What for? What was there to say or do?

He would be gone from here in less than twenty-four hours. And spending a pleasant morning with her, though it was one of the happiest he’d had in years, did not change the fact that they were completely unsuited. Why then, did it feel like he’d made a colossal mistake?

He did not know how long he stood for, staring after her, contemplating the futility of wanting her. Finally, when the horse became anxious, he turned and trudged toward the stables, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

****

The dowager, who had watched the highly entertaining exchange from her vantage point at the dining room window, shook her head and lifted her coffee cup in a silent salute to the lady as she watched her slap her stubborn, rigid son.

No doubt he deserved it!

Of course, she had no idea what the fight was about, but to see Edward lose his control, for even a moment, was a miracle worth saluting.

Lady Catherine remembered with fondness how utterly exasperating she had found her late husband. And the passion with which they’d loved each other.

She needed to get to know the force of nature that was Lady Rebecca. See what it was that her son was clearly falling for. The stories she’d heard from her abigail made her a little nervous. The child was bordering on scandalous. Well, there’d never be a dull moment.

Her thoughts turned to the Carringtons and to Lady Caroline. She felt sure that young lady’s heart was not involved but it was a situation that would require delicate handling. She frowned as she watched her son stomp off in the opposite direction, looking like thunder.

Perhaps now would be a good time to have a quiet talk with Lady Ranford before Edward announced to the earl that he’d had enough and ruined an almost lifelong friendship.

****

Rebecca did not stop running until she’d reached the house. She entered through the back to avoid running into anyone and stumbled through the kitchen, keeping her head bowed to hide her tears.

The kitchen staff called out greetings but she could not even bring herself to return them, just kept moving until she reached the sanctity of the empty stairwell.

Good God, how had things turned so bad so suddenly? She had never experienced such a range of emotions in such a short space of time before. It was going to drive her mad!

She had never been so angry, nor so sad in her entire life. How could he say those things?
Think
those things? It was unbearable. She could not stand to think of him thinking ill of her.

Reaching her room she cried, sobbed rather, for the second time in as many days. She needed to take herself firmly in hand. It did no good crying over a man. Especially a brute such as the duke. And Rebecca could not,
would
not be one of those simpering misses who allowed the whims of a man to dictate her happiness.

After giving herself a stern talking to, she felt no better but had at least calmed down enough to act like she felt better.

But she decided to take nuncheon in her room, just to be safe. If she saw him now there was every chance she would cry again. Or throw a platter at him. And whilst the latter seemed very appealing, nobody else would appreciate it.

It did not take long, however, for Rebecca to feel listless and bored having never enjoyed being cooped up, especially on such a beautiful afternoon. She heaved a sigh of frustration and looked out the window wistfully. Perhaps an afternoon ride would help clear her head and lift her from her melancholy.

She was about to turn and ring for Maura when movement to her right caught her eye. It was Caro. With Hartridge! She leaned forward and promptly whacked her head on the glass. A couple of moments rubbing the sore spot helped ease some of the dizziness and she pressed her nose against the glass to resume her spying.

Where had they disappeared to? Rebecca felt a sinking feeling like none she’d ever experienced. What was going on here? Was he proposing to Caroline? She felt sick and dizzy and it had nothing to do with the window.

He had said he wasn’t going to marry her. Had no interest in marrying her! So what had they been discussing? In the glimpse she had managed, they seemed to be having quite a serious conversation. What if he’d decided to marry Caroline and save himself from crazy women like her? Rebecca knew Caroline had no feelings toward the duke. She’d barely glanced in his direction or even conversed with him since he’d arrived. Meanwhile Rebecca felt like she’d been burning holes in his person she’d spent so long gazing at him. But Caroline had been bred to be a duchess and do her familial duty.