The Duke's Indiscretion (7 page)

Colin drew a long, deep breath, realizing at last that his future had altered the moment he set eyes on those luscious curves all those years ago.

He wanted her. He'd wanted her then and he could have her now—legally, willingly, and forevermore. Everything Sir Thomas said, every persuasion he offered, concluded that for him.

Jerking his coat on, he turned for the door. “So help me, you'll pay for this, Thomas,” he warned, hiding a smile.

“You'll invite me to the wedding, won't you?”

Colin suppressed a sarcastic retort as he closed the door to the inner office behind him, letting that question linger as he nodded once to Blaine and headed straight for the hallway.

God, but his friends would have a good laugh over this one. The magnificent gala that had been his life was all but over, soon to be replaced by drudgery in the hands of a cunning female who wanted him for her own selfish pursuits. For everything but
him
.

Not that it mattered, he decided as he stepped out through the Yard's main doors and into the gray and gloomy afternoon, shaking off a curious wave of sadness that passed through him as a chill in the air.

Nobody really knew him anyway.

C
olin stood in Earl Brixham's sparsely decorated parlor, brushing his fingers through his damp hair while he awaited the arrival of the cunning Lady Charlotte. He'd come directly here after leaving Sir Thomas, to get the offer done, he supposed, before he thought better of the lifelong consequences and changed his mind. After giving his topcoat to the butler and requesting an audience with the earl, he paced the chilly room, finally stopping to stare at the ugly bright peaches-and cherries-dotted wallpaper, hoping the lady's taste in home decor contained a bit more of a sophisticated edge. This room, though free of superfluous furnishings and useless trinkets, still fairly shrieked of bad taste within a cacophony of loud color—bright red apple, lemon yellow, and tangerine. It wasn't a parlor, it was a fruit stand display. Perhaps his soon-to-be wife had chosen this look herself, though he could hardly imagine Lottie English being gauche in anything she did.

God, what a mess. He'd already accepted her as his and he had yet to ask for her hand. Not that the question itself would matter at this point. He couldn't decide if he were elated or annoyed that she'd taken all the bluster out of the only proposal of marriage he'd likely ever offer. But then nothing in his life had run very smoothly, nor along standard expectations.

“Your grace, what a pleasant surprise.”

Colin straightened his shoulders to present a regal bearing, his hands clasped behind him as the Earl of Brixham strode into the parlor in haste, his tone a combination of impatience and false humor, his gaze fixed into a hard stare. From the look of it, a call on the man today wasn't a pleasant surprise at all.

“This isn't a bad time, is it Brixham?” he asked, fighting the urge to rub his scratchy eyes and drop his weary body into the threadbare settee behind him in defeat.

“No, no, of course not,” the earl blustered, waving a palm through the air before closing the parlor doors for privacy. A sudden thought gave him pause. “I hope you're not here to discuss our deal regarding the pianoforte.”

“No, not at all,” Colin replied without embellishment.

The earl's thick brows furrowed as he gestured toward the settee in an invitation to sit. “Then what can I do for you today, sir?”

As with their first meeting, something about the man's demeanor irritated him. Dressed in casual attire, obviously not expecting visitors for tea, he wore plain, tan trousers and an equally unobtrusive matching shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He hadn't donned
any jewelry, and yet it seemed to Colin as if he were just the type of man to do so, for any occasion. He looked and acted ordinary enough, an Englishman at ease, at home in his surroundings, though beneath his smooth disposition there seemed to lurk a certain raw tension, perhaps a general frustration caused by concern for his future if his financial situation were indeed questionable. Still, the Earl of Brixham hadn't done or said anything inappropriate or rude to him, surely nothing to garner such wariness on his part, and yet the man would soon become his brother-in-law, and Colin couldn't put his finger on one agreeable thing about him.

Doing his best to relax against the worn settee cushion, he crossed a leg over the opposite knee and interlaced his fingers in his lap. Getting right to the point, he stated, “I've come with an offer for Charlotte.”

The earl didn't even respond with a glance as he neared him. “Another offer? Surely you don't think
she
possesses any antiques for your collection.”

If he wasn't so annoyed at the entire situation, Colin might be amused by the earl's unsympathetic ignorance. “Doesn't she, as a lady, possess some worth?” he asked wryly.

Brixham paused beside a wingback chair, his thigh balanced against the armrest. “I beg your pardon?”

Colin shrugged lightly. “You said she needed a husband, and after careful thought, I've decided a match between the Lady Charlotte and myself would be…optimal. So, I'm here to offer for her hand.”

It was a groundbreaking moment to be sure as Earl Brixham seemed to pale before his eyes, his mouth parting a fraction in bewilderment.

Colin waited, expression flat, actually enjoying the man's shock.

Finally Brixham swallowed, and without looking at it, grabbed the opposite armrest of the chair at his side and more or less plopped down hard on the seat. “Why Charlotte?”

“Why not?” Colin gave him a half smile. “Does it matter?”

Seconds passed in silence. Then the earl abruptly recovered from his initial daze, shaking himself and pulling down on his cuffs as he straightened in his seat and resumed a formal posture.

“I apologize, your grace. It's just that I wasn't expecting an offer of marriage, especially when you seemed so…unaffected by my sister at your first meeting. You clearly weren't interested in taking a wife only a week or two ago, and now…well…here you are.” He chuckled, patting down on the back of his hair. “I'm surprised, that's all.”

Colin forced himself from squirming in his chair, annoyed that he hadn't considered the suddenness of the proposal and how it might look to the lady's brother. On the other hand, he really didn't need to explain himself, or his actions; the man needed the financial support the union would provide and clearly wanted to free himself from the very real possibility of caring for a spinster sister until his dying breath. Colin could do that for him and they both knew it.

Tenting his fingers in front of him, he nodded as if he completely understood the earl's concern. “You're right, of course, but after considering everything in the last few days, I've decided it's time for me to do
the honorable thing and marry. Meeting the Lady Charlotte has presented me with a socially acceptable and logical choice.” He paused for emphasis, then added, “And I do need an heir.”

Brixham eyed him thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with the tips of his fingers and thumb. “I'm perfectly willing to accept your offer, your grace,” he admitted through a sigh. “But I think Charlotte will be difficult to convince. It must be acknowledged that you hardly know her, and she's turned down several gentlemen who've attempted to court her, one or two she knew quite well from childhood.”

Inexplicably, that acknowledgment irked him. “Perhaps if
I
asked her rather than having you insist on accepting my proposal, she'll be a bit more…agreeable?”

He'd purposely phrased that as a question so as not to insult the earl while letting the man know he would never use force or threats with Charlotte because they obviously didn't work. Brixham badly wanted to dump the burdensome Charlotte in his lap, but the man couldn't know that the lady was already his for the taking and coercion would never be an issue.

At last the earl snickered and shook his head. “Of course I can hardly deny that the match is most excellent, your grace, but Charlotte can be quite a challenge.”

“Then I suppose she'll be my problem to handle,” he replied through a sigh.

“Yes, well, she's a stubborn girl,” the man continued, “quite clever, even devious, when she wants something.”

You have no idea.

He smiled. “I should like that sort of challenge, I think.”

Brixham remained quiet for another moment or two, scratching his side whiskers, his mind clearly absorbing the details, reveling in the importance to be granted him by becoming a relation by marriage to the wealthy Duke of Newark. It didn't take him long to acquiesce.

With a soft grunt, he pushed his thick body out of the chair. “I suppose we can work out the details later in the week.”

Colin knew what he was thinking and waved a palm, shaking his head minutely. “No hurry. I'm less concerned about her dowry than I am about an heir.”

Brixham's features drew back into a smile of genuine relief. “Very well, your grace,” he said, straightening with renewed confidence. “If you wait here, I'll get my sister.”

Colin nodded once but didn't move.

It took only a moment or two before the cunning Charlotte entered the room, her features awash with a measure of quick surprise at first sight of him, then turning smug with the tiny smile that crept across her lips. She wore a simple day gown in deep blue, cut squarely across her bosom and tapering into tight stays before falling in layers of silk to the floor. She truly had a magnificent figure, and the only thought to cross his mind was to wonder how this particularly well-endowed female managed to sing so grandly wearing such a tight corset. But then that question remained highly irrelevant at the moment. He'd figure that out soon enough.

With resignation, Colin stood as required, but offered her nothing by way of expression.

“Your grace,” she said softly, offering him a tiny curtsy.

“Lady Charlotte,” he drawled.

Seconds of uncomfortable silence droned as she glanced from him to her brother and back again. Brixham took the cue, clearing his throat as he moved to make a gentlemanly exit. “Well then, I suppose I'll leave the two of you alone to chat.” Pausing at the doors, he added, “I'll just be down the hall in my study should either of you need me.”

Colin could feel the tension crackle between the lady and her brother, and he truly had to wonder at the nature of their relationship as he watched the man give his sister a sharp glance before quitting the room, closing the parlor doors behind him. She, however, seemed to take it all in stride, smiling smugly, hands clasped behind her as she kept her attention focused on him.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” she said breezily.

His brows rose at her attempt at a casual air. “Are you.”

It wasn't a question at all, and she obviously didn't feel the need to answer it. But after a few lingering seconds of silence, the uncomfortable anticipation of the moment overcame her. She knew precisely why he called on her, though it apparently just dawned on her that he wasn't about to make any part of their meeting easy. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting, taking particular note of the rosy flush creeping into her cheeks. In truth, he was likely more
nervous than she, though he'd never admit that to anyone, and certainly he could hide it better.

Purposely eyeing her up and down, he remarked, “You look lovely today.”

He exaggerated the compliment of course, but she took it in stride, fairly challenging him with her direct gaze and rather flat expression.

“Thank you,” she replied with a lift of a brow. “And may I say, sir, that you are as charming as always.”

A grin threatened to escape him. “Indeed.”

For several long seconds they stared at each other. Then taking a full breath for confidence, she asked bluntly, “Are you here to offer for me, your grace?”

His nerves caught fire at her forthrightness. “You're quite the presumptuous thing, aren't you?”

She actually smiled, not in the least perturbed by his irritation, casting him a sideways glance as she began to move in the direction of the settee. “I can't for a minute think of another reason you'd call on me, sir.”

“Perhaps to formally turn your gracious offer down?”

She faltered briefly in her stride, her forehead creasing a fraction. She hadn't expected that response from him, and he felt an absurd satisfaction in knowing he'd taken the advantage away from her, if only briefly.

Then her mouth widened into a full grin as she continued moving slowly toward him, her gaze holding his. “Nicely put, your grace, and yet I can't help but recall the…enthusiasm you expressed the night we met at the opera.”

“Enthusiasm?” he repeated, keeping his voice and features prosaic as she sauntered up to stand before him.

She looked up innocently. “You'd call it something else? I wouldn't.”

Colin couldn't decide if her audacious resolve angered or aroused him. He studied her silently for a moment, noting her creamy, faintly freckled skin, the intelligence in her large, blue eyes that shone brightly even without the bold application of cosmetics, her high cheekbones, and the few, curling wisps of strawberry blond hair that escaped the plait woven from her crown to the middle of her back. Yes, he was very,
very
enthusiastic, though he refused to admit it to her now.

“I'd probably call it entrapment,” he said at last, his gaze melding with hers in a deliberate attempt to intimidate. It didn't appear to work.

She pressed her lips together to suppress a giggle. “Nonsense. You're free to turn me down and yet you haven't because you know I offer you something not only tempting, but necessary, for both of us.” Lowering her voice, she leaned toward him to slyly add, “You're as excited about the prospect as I am, though I do understand your excitement stems from a slightly different motive.”

Slightly
different? Their motives couldn't be more polarized. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers to keep from reaching for her neck and throttling her—or drawing her close so he could caress her throat while exploring that beautiful mouth of hers again.

Quietly, he replied, “I'm excited about many things,
as I'm certain you know. I'm not, however, the least bit excited about having the choice of a wife taken from me, by anyone, regardless of the reason.”

She watched him, her head tipped to one side minutely. “I suppose, in a manner of speaking, I've taken the wind from your sails, haven't I? That must be very difficult for a gentleman.”

He almost snorted. “I appreciate your concern, but I think my sails are performing just fine, Charlotte.”

Cheeks pinkening, she shifted from one foot to the other. “I do realize that as a man you need variety in your prospects, and your settling for one lady could become an exercise in boredom. However, as I've said before, faithfulness in marriage is not one of my concerns. We will both benefit greatly from this union, and I assure you, sir, nobody but the two of us will ever know the truth.”