The Duke (45 page)

“Your Grace, I am not an important man,” the old scholar said. “On the whole, I am a fool. I can only exhort you to prove your much-vaunted honor now and warn you that if you let true love escape you, all for the sake of your worldly fame, one day you will wake up and realize you are no better than I—a blind, bloody fool.”

Bel found Robert in an odd mood when she returned; he seemed distracted and a bit distant as she and Jacinda told him about the wild fell ponies they had lured with apples. Jacinda and Lizzie whisked off to wash up for supper, then Robert told Bel that her father had found his way to Hawkscliffe Hall.

“What?” she stared at him in amazement, joy, and a certain measure of trepidation. She had not faced her father since he had found out she was a courtesan. “How did he get out of the Fleet? Is he here?”

“I don’t know, we didn’t get into it. He has elected to stay at the inn in the village. He’ll be back to have supper with us.”

“Oh, no.” Bel’s heart sank. “That can only mean he disapproves.”

“That was the impression I got, yes.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

He shook his head and looked away. “Belinda?”

She had started to leave to tidy herself for supper, but at his soft call, she came back to him.

He looked at her slowly over his shoulder, his square face forlorn. “You know I love you?”

She smiled, caressing his shoulder. “Yes, as I love you. Is something wrong?”

He laid his hand over hers on his shoulder and turned to steal a pensive kiss. “I only want you to be happy,” he whispered.

“I’m happier here with you than I ever have been in my life.”

He embraced her and she rested her head on his chest, forgetting her worries momentarily about seeing Papa. At length Robert kissed her forehead and sent her on her way.

Fortunately Papa arrived with enough time before the meal for them to have a heart-to-heart talk. In the garden there was a great yew tree with a seat built around the trunk. They sat there in the shade as the rays of daylight stretched long across the bowling green.

Bel had expected the scolding of her life, but instead her father apologized to her with such an air of grief and regret over her attack that he moved her to tears. It took some convincing to make him understand that Robert’s love had done so much to heal her.

“But he is not your husband, my dear,” he protested gingerly, holding her hand.

“I know that, but I ... trust him, Papa. I love him. If he were to marry me, it would damage his political career and his reputation—not to mention Jacinda’s—and there’s so much good he can do in the world. What is more important—my personal convenience or the thousands of people whose lives could be improved by Robert’s work? I know it must sound horrifyingly unconventional, but in all honesty, what does a piece of paper matter to say we are man and wife? I know in my heart that he loves me.”

He furrowed his brow, pursed his mouth, and shook his head with so troubled a countenance that her firmly cheerful facade almost crumbled and she nearly blurted out the truth—that, more than anything else in the world, she longed to be Robert’s wife.

What choice did she have? She was a courtesan; she was his mistress. That was her role and she must accept it. The last thing Robert would ever want was a duchess who would carry on the scandal of the Hawkscliffe Harlot— though, from all Bel now knew about Georgiana, she would have worn the slur with pride.

“How did you manage to get out of the Fleet?” she asked, anxious to change the subject.

He gave her a glum look. “I called in a few favors that my colleagues from the university owed me.”

She didn’t have the heart to ask him why he had not done that in the first place, but although she held her tongue, his rueful glance seemed to read her thoughts.

“I didn’t ask them for help straightaway because I was worried about my reputation, just like your duke,” he admitted in remorse. “I will never forgive myself.”

Bel sighed and patted his shoulder in affection. “Well, I wish you would, because I forgive you. Besides, that is one strong advantage of being ruined, Papa—I for one haven’t got a reputation to worry about anymore.”

He scowled at her quip, but she laughed to assure him she was fine.

Supper was served soon after.

Bel sensed the tension between Robert and her father, though both were too well bred to act rudely. Luckily Jacinda’s running chatter filled any awkward silences and kept everyone amused. When Lizzie finally got a word in, Alfred realized a fellow bookworm was at the table and took great delight in drawing the shy girl out.

Jacinda looked momentarily nonplussed at not being the center of attention, then seemed to decide she loved her friend too dearly to mind and cheerfully ate her supper and listened to the talk of books.

From the corner of her eye, Bel noticed Robert looking at her strangely. She sent him a questioning look, but he just reached for her hand at the table and held it, gazing at her while the others discussed
Gulliver’s Travels.

That night after Papa had left and the girls had gone to bed, he led her up to the top of the keep and seduced her under the stars, coaxing tears of surrender from the deepest reaches of her heart with his whispers of eternal devotion.

His sweetness was so perfect, his tenderness so exquisite, it was almost as if he had known that the very next day he would break her heart into a thousand pieces.

Bel stood in the corridor outside Robert’s study, listening in a sudden state of foreboding. He had summoned her for some reason, but by the sound of it, he was not expecting her yet.

“I know you are very fond of Miss Hamilton, girls, but things are much more complicated in Town than they are here. If you so much as nod to her in the park, you risk damage to your reputations.”

“You want us to cut her, Robert?” Jacinda cried.

“It’s not ‘cutting’ her. She understands. It’s not the way I want it, girls, it’s just the way it is.”

“But it will hurt her feelings—”

“And we love her!”

“Of course you do. We all do. Girls, I am only concerned for your future.”

“Are
you
going to cut her, Robert?” Bel heard Jacinda ask.

“Of course not. The code is different for men, as you well know.”

Abandoning her brief moment of eavesdropping, Bel judged that moment a good one to go in. They all fell silent and turned to her, looking a trifle guilty to be caught discussing her, but she smiled at them in forgiving reassurance.

“He’s quite right, Jacinda, Lizzie. You won’t hurt my feelings a bit. We can have a signal. How’s that? If you see me, open your parasols or your fans, and I’ll take that for a cheerful hello, and I’ll do the same.”

“Oh, Miss Hamilton!” they cried, hugging her. “We’re so sorry!”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not your fault. I’m still a finishing-school teacher at heart, you know, and if you are not on your very best behavior in public places, I shall be very cross.”

Robert sent her a chastened smile of gratitude as she laughingly hugged the girls.

“It’ll all be fine. Now run along and start packing your things, because it seems we are going back to London?” She turned expectantly to him.

He nodded their dismissal. “If you ladies don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Miss Hamilton in private.”

After Lizzie and Jacinda had slipped out, Bel folded her arms over her chest and turned to him curiously. “What’s going on?”

His dark eyes shone with triumph as he strode over to her and clasped her arms, giving her a light squeeze. “You’re not going to believe this. Sit down.”

“We’re going back to London?”

“Yes, yes—but we won’t be staying there long.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Where are we going? That is—am I coming with you, wherever it is?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I don’t go anywhere without my political secret weapon, my lovely, sparkling, ravishing hostess!”

“Well? What’s the news? You look like the cat who ate the canary.”

“Bel, I have been chosen to go with Castlereagh’s British delegation to the Congress of Vienna.”

She gasped and clapped both hands over her mouth.

His hands turned to fists of victory. “Isn’t it incredible?” He paced in jittery excitement. “Do you realize this congress is going to be the most important international gathering since the time of Charlemagne?”

“Oh, Robert, you will be in the history books, just like so many of your ancestors!”

He grinned, blushing slightly. “We still have to get the Regent’s approval of my appointment, but I have the prime minister’s recommendation, thanks to Coldfell. Wellington, of course, will also participate.”

“Wait one moment—what was that about Lord Coldfell?”

He turned to her, hands in pockets. She noticed a flicker of some vague uneasiness in his dark eyes. “He was the one who put my name before the committee.”

“Robert,” she stared at him, flabbergasted.

“What?” he asked a trifle guiltily.

“If this came from Coldfell, then there’s
got
to be a catch.”

“Well, of course there is,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he let out an uncomfortable little laugh. He glanced at her with pleading emotion in his dark eyes, then he dropped his chin almost to his chest. “God, this is hard to tell you.”

She paled. “He’s not asking you to risk your life and limb again—•”

“No, nothing like that.” He swallowed hard. “I want you to know straight off that it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—” He faltered.

“Robert?”

He drew a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. “He wants me to marry his daughter, Juliet. And I have agreed.”

Hawk could barely bring himself to hold Belinda’s shocked stare. Her eyes had gone glassy and the color had drained from her face. She sank down into the nearest chair, staring at nothing.

He took a step toward her. “Please—don’t misconstrue this. You’re the one I love. I have to marry sometime.”

Her eyes seemed huge and they grew darker and darker, but when she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “The little deaf girl?”

“Yes. Coldfell hasn’t got any more heirs. His daughter must bear a son before he dies or his title will revert to the Crown.” He crouched down before her chair. “Coldfell merely wants someone who will keep the girl protected. Belinda—”

The silky rustling of her skirts twisted his heart as she rose and glided past him, momentarily stunned into silence. “She is Jacinda’s age.”

“It doesn’t matter. My relationship with Lady Juliet will be scarcely more than fraternal. You’re the one I love, the one I need. The one who inspires me. You’re my equal. I know you understand my position, Bel. Please, say something.”

“I think I shall be sick,” she whispered.

“I don’t want this to hurt you, Bel. You know I have to take this opportunity.”

“A son, Robert? What am I to say? The stork isn’t going to bring it. How can I share you?” she cried.

“You can’t possibly be jealous of her.”

“Why can’t that cunning old man leave you alone? What if it’s a trick?”

“It’s not a trick. I just received Lord Liverpool’s letter confirming my appointment.”

“Confirming it? Then you’ve known of this for—how long? And you said nothing? How long, Robert?” she demanded angrily.

“A few days,” he forced out.

Glaring at him, she stalked over to his desk and sifted angrily through its contents until she found the communiqué from the prime minister. He saw that her hands were shaking and he lowered his head.

“ ‘Castlereagh verging on another depression,’ ” she read aloud. “ ‘We need someone steady and cool headed on hand. . . .’ ”

Seeming to lose interest suddenly, she tossed the letter back onto his desk and went to stare out the window with her arms folded tightly over her chest. “I knew this would happen,” she said. “I was waiting for it.”

He took a step toward her slim, bristling silhouette, then thought better of it.

“Do you have to marry her to keep this appointment?” she asked in a tone made carefully neutral, still keeping her back to him.

Pain washed through him as he stared at her in misery and when he spoke, his words came heavily. “I think we both know it’s more than just the appointment, darling. Even if I were to pass up this opportunity, the problem will not go away. Eventually I must marry according to my station. Might I not just as well do the country some good, if they’re going to give me the chance?”

There was a long and hollow silence.

“It is the chance of a lifetime for you, Robert,” she said, finally. “Perhaps it is even your destiny. Congratulations. I’m sure you will serve your country with your usual skill.” She turned around, her refined features fixed in a white mask of serenity. “Beyond that, all that’s left to say is good-bye.”

“No,” he uttered, taking a lurching step toward her.

“What, then?” Her facade crumbled with anger. “What are we even doing here? Hiding away from Society and the Patronesses? Good God,” she exclaimed, nearly laughing with pain, “I am in love with a man who is ashamed of me!”