The Duke Can Go to the Devil (23 page)

A sharp knock at the door made them both freeze. Blood roared in his ears as his heart surged. A thousand emotions tangled inside of him as he forced himself to pull away and put a finger to his lips in a furtive plea for silence. May's eyes were wide with alarm and she nodded quickly, her fingers hastily righting her clothes. Gesturing for her to follow, he led her to the dressing room and shut her inside.

The knocks kept coming, escalating in loudness.
Hurrying back to the door, he drew a few deep breaths before twisting the knob and pulling the door open. This time, it really was his stepmother on the other side, more unwelcome than ever.

“Go away, Vivian.” The words were little more than a growl. He could have happily murdered her just then, even though a part of him recognized it was a good thing that kiss had been stopped. Lord knew where it would have led otherwise.

Actually, he was pretty sure he knew. His willpower when it came to May was apparently little to none.

Vivian looked unperturbed. “Please, William, there is no need to take that tone with me. I saw the light beneath your door and thought perhaps we could talk.” She smiled at him, all innocence, but he knew her well enough to know she did not want to share a quick chat.

He crossed his arms, not at all in the mood for her tricks. “I've kicked you out of my house before. Please don't make me do it again.”

Her nightclothes were much less modest than May's. The outline of her legs was just visible in the dim light of his room, and the neckline scooped far enough to reveal a wide swath of her cleavage. If she was attempting to be alluring to him, she was failing completely. There was
nothing
that could make her alluring to him.

She smiled commiseratively. “Judging by your mood upon your return today, I'm willing to bet you had a rough day with that charming little guest of yours. Since we've had so little time together since I arrived, I thought we could . . . comfort each other.”

She was delusional. He had actually hoped that with the others here, she would back down, but clearly that hope had been in vain. “Good night, Vivian,” he said
quietly but firmly. He started to push the door closed, but her sharp voice stopped him.

“I don't know why you toy with her. We both know there is no possible way she could fill the role of duchess. Your standards are much too high to even consider it.”

Anger chilled his heated blood. “Oh?” he said coldly. “Then why are you here?” Obviously she felt threatened by May, in one way or another.

Her eyes shuttered. “For company, of course.”

Why did she keep pushing, all these years later? Was she trying to be permanently banned from his households? Yes, he wanted her children to have their mother, but he had his limits. “You know I will never be comforted by you.”

“Really?” she cooed, raising an eyebrow. “When I remember your kiss and the feel of your hands on my body, I think perhaps that isn't true.”

Fury speared through him. He set his mouth into a hard, straight line. “Be ready to depart by noon tomorrow. I don't care which house you go to, but you are not welcome in this one.”

The curved lines bracketing her mouth deepened as she narrowed her eyes slightly. “But the children have barely seen me. Don't be rash simply because you had a bad day.”

“It was your own choice not to spend time with them. If they've seen you once, that's once more than they have in the previous three months. That should do for a while.” He didn't wait for her to answer this time. Closing the door practically in her face, he noisily twisted the key in the lock. His body was tense from the encounter,
but his heart ached for his siblings. No matter what, they always seemed to be the ones who were hurt.

He waited, heart pounding, for her to leave. For a moment he feared she wouldn't, but at last he heard the receding footsteps. Drawing a fortifying breath, he hurried to the dressing room. The fury thinned, replaced by the dull weight of dread in his stomach. Would May have been able to hear any of that? He desperately hoped not. It was a good fifteen paces away, and the doors in this house were exceptionally solid. Swallowing, he pulled the door open.

May stood right behind it, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. “What the devil was that all about?”

*   *   *

Surely she had not heard what she thought she heard. She watched him, incredulous, to see what sort of explanation he could possibly come up with. The knock had been a cold bucket of water to the burning heat of her desire only moments before. She had been lost to that kiss.
Consumed
by it. When she had told him they were like two pieces of flint, that's exactly what she had meant. They positively ignited when they were together like that.

But then she'd heard the knock, and then bits and pieces of that bizarre conversation, and now it was as though the ice water had made it into her veins.

William raked his hands through his hair, shaking his head. “That was my stepmother. I was counting on your presence—and that of your aunt's—to discourage something like this, but unfortunately I was wrong.” He motioned for her to step from the dressing room and join him by the sitting area.

May didn't move as she stared back at him, aghast. “She . . . comes to your rooms? Often?”

Disgust twisted his lips as he shook his head decisively. “No, not often, because she isn't often here. But she has it in her twisted little Parisian mind that if she can land one duke, she can land another. There is nothing between us, and there
never
will be, but she never stops pushing.”

May was quite sure her face was contorted with exactly the same emotion. “That's outrageous. And yet you still let her into your home?” She remembered when they had run into Vivian in Bath, how clear his dislike for the woman had been then. That he would speak as civilly to her as he did was impressive.

He lifted his shoulder. “The children. Whatever her issues with me, so long as she isn't hurting them, I will not rob them of their mother. I know how it is to live that way, and I would never sentence anyone, let alone my own siblings, to such a fate.”

She stood there, staring back at him in amazement. What an incredibly honorable man he was. Well, besides the fact she was standing in his dressing room just then, shortly after having shared the most scorching kiss of her entire life. “That sort of kindness is . . . uncommon,” she said, unable to find a better word to encompass how truly amazing he was.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Do I need to come over there and check your forehead for a fever?”

And he even had a rare bit of humor that made her laugh. Her heart melted as she looked up at him. How on earth could the man she had argued so bitterly with in the past be the same man standing before her now? He was so much more than she gave him credit for. Yes, he was still a stuffy English duke, but he was
her
stuffy English duke.

She straightened abruptly, shocked by the direction of
her own thoughts. No, he was
not
hers. He didn't belong to her, and she most certainly didn't belong to him. She couldn't. She didn't belong
here
. How could she have forgotten, for even that small amount of time, that she belonged half a world away? This was nothing more than a flirtation. A distraction, until she could return to her real life.

Hurrying from the dressing room, where the scent of him had surrounded her in the most delicious way, she rushed for the door. “No, but it really is past time for me to get back to my room.”

“May, wait,” he said, hurrying after her.

“Thank you for accepting my apology, I'm so glad that I can sleep well tonight.” She was steps from the door when he caught her by the hand, spinning her around.

“Mei-li,” he said, the word practically a caress. “Please, just give me a moment.” When she didn't pull away, he relaxed a little, but didn't release her. “I just wanted to say that I'm sorry if things got a little out of hand tonight. I hope it didn't upset you.”

Upset her? If only he knew how much she had relished it. She shook her head, doing her best to offer a polite smile. “Of course not.”

“I'm glad.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I want you to know that I meant it when I said you don't have to leave tomorrow.”

She swallowed, resisting the urge to step into his arms and close her eyes, allowing herself to be lost to his touch once more. “I must. I'm . . . I'm anxious for my father's return, and I want to be sure that I'm there to greet him. Plus, I need to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, since I'm unsure of his schedule.”

Lies.
For once, she couldn't make herself tell him the
truth: She was falling hard for him, and that scared the daylights out of her. If she allowed herself to fall in love with him, then what? Nothing good could come of it. This life was not for her, and it never could be.

His golden gaze met hers with unnerving intensity, as though he were attempting to divine what she was really thinking. “You haven't found anything to hold your interest here in this great country?”

Yes.
“Don't be silly,” she said as lightly as she could manage. “It turned out to be a nice visit, but I am eager to find my way home.” And she was. She just needed to break free from his odd spell long enough to catch sight of it again.

He released her and stepped back, the warmth steadily leaching from his gaze. “I see. In that case, I wouldn't want to keep you.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from taking it all back, she nodded. “Thank you for your hospitality and . . . everything. I doubt I'll ever forget the time I visited a grand duke at his even grander estate.”

Where the words would have once been a curse on her lips, tonight she said them with complete honesty and sincerity.

As she crept back to her room in the cool darkness of the corridor, she tried to remember the scent of the ocean on a calm, moonless night, but all she could smell was the crisp scent of sandalwood and the first hint of regret.

“I
still don't understand what all the rush is about. If you did something unseemly, by heavens you need to tell me. I won't have you besmirching my family's good name.”

May stared blankly out the window, refusing to be drawn back into defending herself to her aunt. Suyin and Upton sat opposite them, both maids steadfastly maintaining their silence. They were likely wishing themselves anywhere but in this carriage. If there had been any other means by which to return, May would have gladly taken it, but unfortunately they were all stuck for the time being.

She had made the right decision, damn it, even if part of her ached with every mile closer they traveled to Bath. The carriage jolted again as they hit yet another rut on this endless ride. They were almost home, with only a quarter hour still left to go, and May was seriously contemplating walking the rest of the way.

Every half hour or so, Aunt Victoria would shake her head and fret about their abrupt departure all over again. The duke hadn't been there to send them off—something May was grateful for even while she was unaccountably hurt—so the older woman was doubly distressed about it. “What happened on your ride
yesterday? That was when everything changed, I'm sure of it. Did you make an inappropriate remark to him?”

May couldn't hold her tongue any longer. Snapping her gaze to the older woman, she said, “Nothing happened! I've already told you that the duke is obviously a very busy man and there is no need to overtax his hospitality. Moreover, I'm anxious for my father's return, and though I know it shouldn't be for a week or so yet, I want to be there when he returns.”

“I don't know what to think of such excuses. Particularly given the state you were in when you returned last night.”

Taking a calming breath, May said, “One tends to be in a bit of a state when one falls from a horse or gets stuck in the mud. Please stop inventing nefarious deeds I may or may not have committed and just listen to what I am telling you.”

Aunt Victoria narrowed her eyes. “I wonder, do you think me blind?”

May froze, her mind racing with the things her aunt might have witnessed. With the exception of last night's excursion into the duke's bedchamber, there shouldn't have been anything. Cautiously, she said, “No.”

“I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. Absurd as it may seem, I began to have hope that you might somehow make a match. After all, if his father could marry that dreadful French woman, perhaps the current duke could tolerate an unconventional wife as well.

“Then, all at once, the hope is dashed and here we are, returning in an unseemly short amount of time.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “If you can't succeed with a man who looks at you that way, you may well be hopeless after all.”

May's temper flared hot, fueled by her already heightened emotions. “I'd rather be hopeless than a bitter old matron like you.”

Her aunt reared back, her gloved and bejeweled hand going to her collarbone. Even the maids looked up at that before quickly diverting their gazes to their laps. Good. May really didn't wish for Suyin to suffer by association. This argument had been brewing for months, and it was solely between May and her aunt.

Finding her tongue at last, Aunt Victoria sputtered, “How
dare
you speak to me with such disrespect? You ungrateful girl. I've put my reputation on the line for you, and you have done nothing but trample it at every turn.”

Frustration billowed in May's chest, making it hard to breathe. “
I
have trampled? What about your dozens of disparaging remarks toward me? Are you
trying
to destroy my confidence? Is it some sort of game to you to see how many ways you can try to cut me down?”

She had come here hurting, out of place and still mourning her mother's death, and all she had found was coldness and constraint. If it hadn't been for her friends, she would have surely gone mad.

Her aunt's affront was palpable. “This is exactly the insolence I have been ‘disparaging,'” she exclaimed, lifting her chin with an angry jerk. “I have been doing everything in my power to help you fit in. I've done my best to mold you into a woman society will accept, and you have resisted my efforts at every turn.”

“I'm not resisting; I'm being
me
.”

“Then perhaps you need to change,” her aunt retorted sharply. “I've been where you are, May. I thought everything was fun and games and that people would love me
for the carefree girl that I was. Well, do you know what that earned me?”

“An earl for a husband, apparently,” May said. The idea of her aunt ever having been carefree was beyond absurd.

But real pain flashed in her aunt's eyes as shook her head. “No. My naïveté led to a scandal that nearly destroyed my name. My parents sent me away for two years, and believe me, I shall never forget what that was like. Life outside of proper society can be a cruel, harsh place.”

May could hardly believe what her aunt was saying, but the truth of it was written across her face. She couldn't help but be curious as to what sort of scandal her aunt had embroiled herself in, but it didn't seem prudent to ask.

Straightening her spine, Aunt Victoria seemed to recover her composure as she met May's gaze. “I was smart enough to learn my lesson. It was my impeccable manners that eventually won the earl's regard. I suggest you learn from my mistakes and change now, before you ruin yourself and your prospects.”

As surprising—and enlightening—as the story was, it really had little bearing on May. Polite society was not part of her future. “I'm not going to change who I am to please people I hardly know. What is the point? Soon I'll be gone from this place, and nobody will remember anything about me.”

And it couldn't be soon enough. After this week, she felt as though she was beginning to lose herself. To lose the memories of the way things were, back when Mama was well and the three of them had been so happy. She ached for the comfort of her father's arms. For the rocking of the ship and the hot winds in the tropics. She
wanted those familiar and longed-for things so badly, it was all she could do not to close her eyes and cry.

“What makes you think that you are going back?”

Her gaze shot back to her aunt, ice suddenly pumping in her veins. “What do you mean?”

If she had looked victorious, or snide, or even angry, May wouldn't have been so alarmed. But Aunt Victoria merely looked matter-of-fact. She smoothed a hand over her voluminous skirts, pursing her lips as though weighing her next words. “Why do you think your father brought you to me? You cannot continue as you had without a chaperone. With your mother gone, it's time for you to find a husband and begin your own life.”

May gaped at her, a thousand different thoughts buzzing in her mind, but not a single one that would come to her lips. Her gaze briefly collided with Suyin's, who looked equally as shocked. The steady pounding of the horses' steps and the creaking of the carriage as it swayed and shuddered filled the roaring silence as she tried to assimilate what her aunt was saying. “He told you that?”

She folded her hands primly in her lap. “He didn't have to. The situation spoke for itself.”

But he hadn't said it.
May clung to that one, clear thought like a lifeline. Drawing a deep breath in an effort to calm her pounding heart, she said, “The
situation
is that he was overwrought after my mother's death. By the time he returns, he'll have come to his senses and realized that he overreacted.”

Aunt Victoria shook her head, her gray eyes sharp. “Someday, you'll realize that the world simply doesn't care what your plans are.”

The carriage slowed then, and a look out the window confirmed they were turning onto her aunt's street.
Thank God.
May started to fuss with her skirts, anxious to be ready to bolt the moment they pulled to a stop.

“Don't think this conversation is over,” Aunt Victoria warned. “I am not satisfied with your lack of response over what happened with the duke.”

May put a hand to her chest without conscious thought as her mind shifted to the memory of all that had happened the night before. “Then I suppose you will have to write him, because I have nothing more to say on the subject.”

Not waiting a second more for a groom to come and assist them, May pushed open the door and rushed from the smothering confines of the carriage and the infuriating woman within it.

“Mei-li.”

She froze, all the air whooshing from her lungs at the sound of her name in that beloved, gruff, longed-for voice. She looked up slowly, afraid she would find she had conjured it in her mind.

Before her stood the travel-weary, bearded, well-sunned image of her father, his arms as wide and welcoming as the great blue sea. All the anger, upset, and fear fell away in the blink of an eye, and before she even knew what she was about, she was running toward him like the savior he was.

Thank God Almighty, he had returned just when she needed him most.

*   *   *

The knock at the door of his study startled him. William glanced up from his desk only to find Vivian hovering in the doorway. The early-afternoon light flooded the room, illuminating her pale skin and wide hazel eyes. His mother's rubies sparkled against her bare throat.

“Leaving, I presume?” His voice was flat, just like the rest of his emotions.

She shrugged in that Parisian way of hers. “The carriage is packed.” She paused before adding, “I noticed your guest left this morning.”

“It's none of your affair.” Regret was bitter on his tongue, but he refused to brood over it. May was free to make her own decisions, and if she felt the need to leave him, that was her prerogative. And what good would brooding do, anyhow? She'd be out of his life for good one way or another by the end of the month. Just as well that it was sooner rather than later. Given the knot in his chest, he had already allowed himself to become too attached to her as it was.

As for Vivian, he didn't owe her an explanation.

He leaned back in his chair, glowering at her. She had been a thorn in his side for years. It was a shame that
she
wasn't the one who was sailing away.

Sauntering toward him, she wrapped a fiery red tendril around her finger, her expression pensive. He knew it for the gesture it was: an attempt to draw attention to her most infamous feature. Where others might be shocked by such a color, she had embraced it. Used it to her advantage. “Mmm. I suppose she saw that you are not the man for her. And, I think perhaps you knew that she was all wrong for you.”

This was exactly why everything had gone so wrong last night. She had interrupted with this nonsense, ruining the mood and obviously affecting May's attitude toward him. She had been understanding, but shortly after she had abruptly withdrawn from him.

“We are not having this discussion, Vivian. I suggest you don't keep your carriage waiting.” He returned his attention to the ledger before him, pretending to study it
just as he had been pretending to do when she arrived. His mind was a thousand miles away. No, that wasn't entirely true. His mind was forty miles away in Bath, with the woman he was doing everything in his power to forget.

Vivian tsked softly. “Poor William, always working so hard. You need to find the joie de vivre
.
”

He glanced up in surprise. She rarely used French, at least around him. She always spoke so carefully, minimizing her accent, and she never referred to where she had come from or why she had come over. Shaking his head, he said, “You seem to have no trouble reaping the benefits of my labors for the estate.”

“I'm very grateful. But I care that you are happy as well. In fact, Miss Bradford's presence made me see just how much I want to make you happy. One of these days, you really should take me up on my offers.”

She definitely had his attention now. Why must she always push him? “For the love of God, when will you cease these unwanted advances? Have I not made it abundantly clear that they will
never
be welcome?”

Her fingers waved lightly through the air. “Only because you cannot see past propriety. It has always had its hooks in you. But you are duke! And I am a duchess. There is nothing to stop us from being together, if you would but see.”

He shook his head, at a total loss of what to say. Had she gone completely mad? “You're speaking nonsense.”

She stepped closer, her hazel eyes bright. “No! I have read about things much more scandalous. Look at the fifth Duke of Devonshire and his two wives. If he can live
with two women, surely you can live with a young widow.”

Revulsion tightened his gut. “My
father's
widow. That is a tremendous difference, and if it's not illegal, it absolutely should be.”

“Why? We are not related. You already are raising my children, and now we could raise them together.”

It was all he could do not to physically remove her from the house, put her into the carriage, and send it away for good. “I am raising the children because of your distinct disinterest in them, not to mention your appalling behavior.”

Her nostrils flared. “As though they could ever be mine. They, just like everything else, belong to the dukedom.”

He blinked, taken aback by her words. “What are you talking about? They are your children! You are the one who chooses not to see them until it suits you.” And he knew her pattern: She would flaunt an affair, he would go to speak with her, she would plead to see the children, then promptly ignore them as she set her sights on him. Shaking his head, he added, “As for the ‘everything else,' you have your own allowance, as my father provided in his will. A generous one, at that.” Much more so than she deserved.

Derision lifted her lip. “If there is one thing I learned in my life,
chéri
, it is there is no such thing as stability. We grasp for what we want and hope it will last, but there are no guarantees that it will not be taken away.”