An Unlikely Duchess (3 page)

Another shout snapped Edward’s attention back to the copse of trees as yet another figure bounded toward the pond. This time, it was that of a young boy, maybe ten years old and, by the brief glimpse of his clothing, the son of a staff member.

He skidded to a halt as he looked up towards the beautiful lady stretching with all her might, now leaning even further and seeming a lot more unsteady.

Edward felt a sudden slam of fear in his heart and started towards her, albeit at a slow pace. He did not want to scare her into losing her footing by racing towards her.

He chose not to examine the reason for this acute fear for a total stranger’s safety. He was just being a good human being. That was all.

“My lady,” the lad shouted in triumph, “here’s the tail. We can pull it free.”

It all happened so quickly that there was nothing Edward could do.

At the young boy’s shout the young woman turned towards him. She had obviously managed to untie the string and was clutching it in her small hand.

As she yelled ‘no,’ the young boy picked up the string and gave it a sharp tug.

For a few heart-stopping seconds she balanced on top of the statue, her arms flailing about. The little boy, realising what he had done, promptly let go of the string, the only thing helping her even slightly to maintain her stance.

With another scream she lost balance and hit the water of the pond with a huge splash.

The splash seemed to galvanise the little group of spectators and they ran towards the pond, Edward leading the way.

Now, Edward had had his fair share of experience with women. Especially gently bred women. And, although he could not imagine a single one of them ever being in the position this young lady found herself in—running through woods, chasing kites, climbing statues, he knew how the female psyche worked.

He was fully prepared for the crying, possibly wailing that was about to assail his ears. He suspected there may be a touch of hysterics and could almost guarantee there would be swooning.

This is what he expected. What he did not expect was to find the fair maiden sitting in the middle of the pond, covered in debris, soaked from head to toe… and laughing. Genuinely chuckling until the tears rolled down her flawless cheeks.

The little boy, Martin presumably, had joined in and the pair of them laughed and laughed and gave no indication that they realised they had company.

“Rebecca,” Lady Caroline’s sharp voice rang out bringing an abrupt end to the merriment. There was a world of disapproval, admonishment and anger in that tone.
Rather
impressive to have packed
so much into one name,
Edward thought distractedly.

The lady, Rebecca, turned incredibly big and sinfully dark eyes toward Lady Caroline. Edward found he had to gulp around his dry throat again.

“Caroline, how nice to see you,” her voice was warm and soft, terribly mischievous and made Edward think very inappropriate thoughts.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Caroline hissed. “Get out of there at once. Can you not see that we have company?”

At Lady Caroline’s word, the lady turned the full force of her incredible eyes on Edward and Tom. Edward bit back a gasp as the impact hit him in an area that had no business feeling anything in broad daylight. He heard Tom’s audible gasp and imagined he suffered the same affliction. For some reason, this irritated Edward.

“So we do.” The young lady was speaking again. And rather than sound upset, or scramble to her feet in mortification, she grinned unapologetically at the two gentlemen. “The Duke of Hartridge, I presume, and his cousin Mr. Crawdon?” She spoke politely, for all the world like they were being introduced in a drawing room or ballroom in London.

Tom, finally unable to contain his mirth, burst into laughter, which he desperately tried to cover up as a cough.

Lady Rebecca grinned even wider at Tom’s obvious amusement at the situation. Who was this woman? Edward had never seen anything like it!

Lady Caroline stepped closer to the edge of the pond, her back ramrod straight. “Get. Up,” she hissed menacingly through clenched teeth.

Lady Rebecca gave a defeated sigh and stood. As she did so, the water gushed off her person. Edward found he had to bite back a groan of pure, unadulterated lust. Her gown had originally been white, he would hazard, but had now been turned a slight shade of mud from the contents of the pond. The fact that it was wet meant it clung to her form like a second skin.

As she stood there, dripping wet and futilely wringing out her long tresses, Edward found he could only stare like an immature adolescent. Never had he seen a body like hers. Never had he seen the curves of a lady so well, who wasn’t also standing naked in front of him and preparing to make love.

The thought set his heart hammering and his body stirring. It was terribly embarrassing but he could not bring himself to care. There was a lump the size of a rock wedged in his throat, and he could no more have looked away than he could have plucked the sun from the sky.

“Must you be such a bore Caroline?” Lady Rebecca asked, not a bit concerned with the other lady’s disapproval that was practically rolling off her rigid frame.

“I told you we were to have guests today,” muttered Caroline in a frantic whisper. The gentlemen could still hear her very well but neither one was much inclined to pay attention at that particular time.

Lady Rebecca finally seemed to be taking in the gravity of the situation. Her eyes travelled from Lady Caroline’s furious face to those of the two gentlemen who both looked like they wanted to eat her alive.

She drew herself up to her full height and inhaled a deep breath before speaking again. “I apologise, Caro, really. I had quite forgotten the time.” Her apology was met with stony silence.

“Gentlemen,” she continued turning slightly towards them, “pray forgive my – er – less than proper appearance. I assure you, I do not usually greet guests of my father in such a fashion.”

Her words snapped Edward out of his frankly inappropriate daydream.

“You are Ranford’s daughter?” he asked, and was irritated to hear how husky his voice was.

“His youngest,” the goddess confirmed. “Lady Rebecca Carrington.” She dipped into a curtsey worthy of any daughter of a Peer, but since she was still standing in the middle of the pond, it rather seemed a little late for propriety.

“A pleasure,” he answered a little dazedly.

“Ahem.”

“Excuse me. My cousin, Mr. Crawdon.” Edward gestured behind him.

Tom stepped forward and gave a deep bow. “An honour to meet you Lady Rebecca,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Her responding smile felt like a punch to Edward’s abdomen and he suddenly wanted to pull her out of the pond and shield her from Tom’s appreciative eyes.

“Rebecca,” snapped Caroline, a blush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks, “please return to the house and clean yourself up.”

Lady Rebecca rolled her eyes slightly but Edward caught it and could not bite back a slight grin. The chit was incorrigible.

“Gentlemen, if you will excuse me,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. Which wasn’t a lot, given the circumstances.

She trudged to the edge of the pond, her progress slow due to the weight of the water on her dress. Edward did not think he’d ever seen such a beautiful dress!

As she reached the edge and made to climb over, he rushed to her assistance, almost knocking both Tom and Lady Caroline to the ground and out of his way.

“Allow me,” he said, extending his hand to assist her.

Rebecca looked into his eyes and time seemed to come to a sudden halt. He heard the breath hitch in her throat and it was all he could do to prevent himself from pulling her flush against him. Good God! What was the matter with him?

The air between them felt like it had been struck by lightning. She placed her small hand in his and it felt perfect. He could not resist rubbing his thumb along the delicate palm. He watched as her lips parted and almost groaned aloud once again.

Get a handle on yourself man!

He shook his head slightly to try to clear the sensual haze surrounding them and stepped back so she could climb over.

Her bonnet, he noticed was still tied at the front, though it trailed down her back. For some reason he found it incredibly endearing. She must have noticed his glance for she reached back, which did nothing for his current state, and pulled it forward again.

“Well,” she said jovially, presumably trying to salvage some propriety from the situation, “I shall be on my way. Good afternoon Caro, gentlemen.” She curtsied once again and lifted her bonnet to replace it on her head.

And, of course, upon tipping it over to replace it, proceeded to dump its contents all over herself.

She gasped in shock as the icy cold water dripped down her head, and spluttered most becomingly as it hit her face.

Lady Caroline groaned and dropped her face into her hands once more. Tom, once again lost control of himself and gave a shout of laughter.

Edward found himself biting his tongue enough to taste blood to stop himself from laughing too.

Lady Rebecca swiped the excess water from her eyes and shot them a rueful grin. Then, turning on her heel, she trudged her way back up the garden and towards the house.

They heard the squelch of the water in her boots until she had disappeared over the slight hill.

The silence she left behind with her departure was deafening.

“Your grace,” Lady Caroline stuttered the words in the general direction of his chest, too mortified to look him in the eye, “perhaps you would like to return to the house.”

It seemed they were not going to discuss the surreal incident they had just witnessed. If he was honest though, he could not think of a damned thing to say anyway.

So, throwing a quick look of complete amazement towards Tom, who was looking thoroughly entertained, he offered his arm to Lady Caroline. “I would indeed, my lady,” he answered, all politeness.

Edward had no idea what he had let himself in for by coming here. But suddenly, he could not wait to find out.

CHAPTER TWO

Rebecca refused, just refused to look back during the mortifying trek back to the house. She could hear the squelch of the pond water in her boots, so she could only imagine that the witnesses to that spectacle could hear it too.

She could not believe that had happened. Her father would be furious. Her mother would probably cry. Again. And Caroline, well Caroline would likely never utter another word to Rebecca as long as they both lived.

She heaved a sigh, slipping through the conservatory at the back of the property, thus avoiding any chance of her parents seeing her before she managed to clean up.

She felt torn between utter mortification and total amusement at what had just happened. Mortification because she had just thrown herself into the pond, having climbed a statue and half drowned in front of a duke. Caroline’s intended. Dear God it could not be a bigger disaster. Amusement because, well, it was rather funny!

What must he think of her? His cousin had seemed highly entertained by the incident, if his laughter and friendly smile were anything to judge by. Rebecca herself had found the entire thing hilarious. But she’d learned from bitter experience and constant remonstrations from both Mother and Caro that what she thought was good fun was actually the behaviour of a complete hoyden and not a lady of good
ton
.

Frankly, she did not care about being
ton
, good or otherwise. But could never blaspheme thus in front of the paragons she lived with.

But the duke…

As her mind turned toward the duke and what he must think of her behaviour, she came to a complete stop, halfway up the servants’ staircase to her room.

A myriad of emotions came over her and she found, to her surprise, that her cheeks began to heat profusely. As someone who had spent most of her life making rather a spectacle of herself in front of the entire village, thus becoming somewhat immune to blushes, this was quite a feat.

Her eyes closed and she inwardly groaned when she remembered the look of undisguised shock on his face. His face. Never had she seen such a face! Her heart had actually begun to slam against her chest when she’d finally looked at him, so loud that surely he must have heard it. The breath had been quite stolen from her lungs!

Why, he was beautiful! If a man could be described as such. Handsome just did not seem to do him justice. No it was beauty. Dark, brooding, sinful beauty. His hair, black as jet, was perfectly cut; his grey eyes, the colour of winter clouds, bore into hers. And although his face was hard, looked like he was carved from the purest of marble, his lips were perfectly formed and beautifully kissable…

Her cheeks began to heat again, for a very different reason this time. Her thoughts were wanton and shocking! She had never had a reaction to anyone like she had had to the duke; never felt the sensations that had run rampant through her body.

Rebecca felt a powerful yearning when he touched her. But, being an innocent, she did not know what for.

All she knew was that the mighty Duke of Hartridge was finally, after months of preparation and excitement, here. And within thirty minutes of his arrival she had exposed her legs, fallen into a pond, shouted enough curse words to make a naval officer blush, and developed feelings that were as confusing as they were unwelcome.

Rebecca felt sick when she thought of the clown she’d made of herself. Sicker yet that the man whose touch had sparked feelings in her that she never even knew existed, was the same man who had been brought here to marry her sister.

Feeling defeated and guilty that she’d upset Caroline so much, she finished the trek to her room and rang for her long-suffering maid. Within minutes Maura, a girl whose sunny disposition was a great asset as the lady’s maid of the notorious Rebecca Carrington, had entered the room, taken in the image of her mistress dripping wet and miserable, and immediately set about preparing a bath and some sweet, comforting tea.