The Lady and the Duke (8 page)

Sending word that he would meet with his manager in the morning, Will went directly to his rooms, where his valet was busy setting up a bath. Stripping off his clothing in quick movements, he settled into the steaming water and contemplated the evening ahead.

"I will need something a bit different this evening, Overton," he spoke over his shoulder, as he vigorously rubbed the day’s dust from his body.

"What do you have in mind, Your Grace?"

Will relaxed against the cool of the porcelain, resting his neck on the lip of the tub. A flash of memory of Audrey after he had kissed her that afternoon, all flushed and pink with pleasure in the heated shade of the garden, had him shifting in the water. The faint, reddened marks of beard burn on her lovely jaw, from the growth of his afternoon shadow. Perhaps it was medieval to be pleased that he had marked her, but he was. Although he must wait to do so, he felt the drive to claim her as his before the world, so they would know her marked by him…as he had been by her.

With one accidental collision, she had turned his world upside down and inside out. None of the pieces of his life would fit together correctly again without her.

Overton stepped to the tub and began to lather Will’s face, jolting him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, as his valet started to lower the razor.

"Do we still have that hunter's costume, the one with the bow and arrows, from Lady Morgan's summer ball four years ago?" At the man's nod, Will grunted in satisfaction. "Good. That will do."

 He was not taking any chances with losing Claremont again if he found him. He would find out just what the viscount had on his sister even if he had to threaten it out of the man at arrow point. Overton merely nodded, accepting Will's request without question, and began to lower the razor again.

Will dodged to the left. "Ah, and have some flowers sent to Miss Ellis again. Red roses."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Satisfied, he sat back. Overton hesitated for a moment, but Will merely closed his eyes. Just as his valet raised the blade back to Will’s cheek, a thought occurred to him and he jolted upright again.

"Wait, I…ow. Damn." Will swiped his fingers over his face and they came away pink with the slightest smear of blood.

Overton sucked in a breath, his face pinching in distress. "Your Grace! I apologize." He snatched up a towel and pressed it to Will’s face.

Will just gave his head a rueful shake. "Not your fault. I have too much on my mind this evening." He took the towel away from his valet and patted his face a few more times until blood stopped spotting the cloth.

"There. See? No lasting damage." He sent the man a reassuring smile, and gestured the abandoned razor. "Let’s continue. I shall try not to chatter while you have a blade against my throat."

Overton drew in a deep breath and finished his task without any more interruptions. Will waited until the valet was packing the instruments away in a leather case before casually returning to the subject that had almost cost him a nose.

"I have changed my mind."

Overton paused at the door to the dressing room with an inquiring expression. Will shrugged into the crisp, white shirt that had been laid out for him while he explained.

 "Red roses are not for Miss Ellis. They are too—" He searched for what he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how to express it. "They are not right for her. She would appreciate the roses but they're not
her
. Send wildflowers. Wildflowers of every shape and color that can be imagined, and as many as you can manage in an hour."

He drew on his trousers and tucked in the billowing tails of his shirt. "No longer than an hour, Overton. I want her to receive them before leaving for the evening."

"Very good, Your Grace. Shall I include a note?"

"No…yes. Bring me some paper and I will compose it." Overton nodded and quietly let himself out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Will fastened his waistcoat and shrugged into his coat. Stepping to the mirror, he began the meticulous arrangement of his cravat. His peers would laugh if he ever said so, but he never could stand being dressed. It had always felt suffocating. Infantile. Different men needed different things, and it had always been imperative to Will that he be able to survive without all the frills and privilege, should he ever have to.

He needed to be more than just the Duke of Halford.

Which brought him full circle, back to Audrey—a woman who couldn't care less about his title and all it brought. Perhaps it made him perverse, but he liked that about her. She stood out among her peers as a woman with integrity. Will smiled as he tucked the loose end of his perfectly styled cravat in, and smoothed his evening coat. If everything went as it should tonight, he would have the blackmail letters in hand, Lord Ellis’s blessing and he could concentrate on Audrey.

Oh, yes. He was definitely looking forward to tonight.

Chapter Nine

I have drunken deep of joy, and I will taste no other wine tonight.

~ Yours

Audrey reread the note and looked up again at the armfuls of flowers being delivered by a team of footman in dark green and silver livery. Lowery, the Ellis' butler, seemed bemused by the sudden flood of wildflowers, but Audrey was thrilled. Not just because the sheer volume of them spoke of Will's devotion, but that he had truly given some thought to his gift. His previous effort had been lovely, but tulips were standard fare for a gentleman courting a lady. His new choice of blooms had her insides turning to mush.

Will might not have told her that he loved her yet, but he did. She could see it in every small purple petal, every fragrant stalk of yellow, every blowsy cluster of brilliant red. He understood she was who she was, and he appreciated it.

She could do anything for love. Even become a duchess.

With a laugh, Audrey rolled her eyes at her own dramatics and wandered into the front parlor to await her parents. Most of the unattached women she knew would kill any competition swiftly and without remorse to be in her position. She needed to stop worrying about her future duties as a duchess. Not only was it premature, as he hadn't formally asked her yet, but felt increasingly silly.

Oh, how terrible. Becoming the wife of a wealthy and powerful man. You poor thing, Audrey.

With a shake of her head, she pushed all her worries away, determined to enjoy the incredible bounty of flowers filling the room. They were lovely and smelled like heaven. Audrey buried her face in a lush gathering of something blue, breathing in the heady perfume.

"Oh, my word. Audrey. What
is
all this?" Lady Witte stood in the doorway, eyes wide, the glove she had been in the middle of pulling on dangling from one hand.

Audrey grinned, hugging her secret close. Tonight she would tell Will that she accepted his suit, and soon enough he would come to speak to Papa. But for now, she wanted to keep him all to herself.

"I don't know, Mama. They just arrived."

"Lowery!"

Audrey winced at the near shriek. Lowery appeared, as unruffled as any butler worth his salt. He bowed to her Mama, then lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

"Who sent these?" Audrey's Mama gestured to the masses of flowers placed on nearly every surface, her expression still one of wonder. Lowery slid a quick glance at Audrey, who merely looked back at him, silently pleading for just a little more time.

"There was no note, my ladyship."

Good man.

"No note?"

"Not that I saw, my ladyship."

Lady Witte  was taken aback. "Well, did you recognize the livery?"

"It was dark green and silver, but I am not familiar it."

Thank goodness that Will hardly came up to Town or Audrey would have been caught out right then and there.

"Green and silver. That could be any number of households." Muttering to herself, Lady Witte  tugged on her forgotten glove. "I suppose we shall just have to wait."

She dismissed Lowery, and turned to Audrey. "A man who spends such an amount on flowers is sure to make himself known to your father soon, do you not think?"

"I would think so." Audrey couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face. She ducked her head, pretending to examine her hem.

"Yes, yes. I am sure of it." The older woman took in the spread of blooms again with a sharply assessing gaze and nodded. "And thank goodness for that, I say."

Audrey felt her smile stretch tight. She glanced up to find her Mama watching her.

"Now, dear, do not look so pinched. Despite your father's faith in your abilities, you and I both know that Halford was out of your league."

"That's...that's not what you said just days ago."

"Ah." Lady Witte waved Audrey's comment away. She patted her hair, then arched one fine brow at her daughter. "I had merely hoped that if others saw the duke spending any amount of time with you, they might reconsider their previous stances. Men like to follow where others lead. Although the time he spent in your company was negligible, my plan worked, obviously."

"Oh, obviously."

"Audrey, sulking is unrefined. There is no need for it. This is exactly the sort of behaviors that will prevent a man from forming an attachment to you."

Audrey grit her teeth. "I am sorry that my small sense of dignity offends you."

"You always were such a dramatic child," sighed Lady Witte . She moved to the door, her shoulders stiff. "I am only trying to help you. A mother wants her child to be happy."

Audrey snorted, then cleared her throat at her mother's narrow glance.

"That is the truth, whether you believe me or not. You are a pretty girl and your figure is lovely. If you would merely...dampen...your disdain for city ways, and perhaps if you weren't always so blunt—"

"You want me to change who I am?"

"Only until you are married!" cried Lady Witte, frustration writ large across her face. "Do you not see that gentleman of the
ton
hold no value for women who are unflinching in their opinions and contemptuous of fashionable society? No peer would marry such a woman."

Audrey turned away, swallowing the things she wanted to say, things that could never be taken back once spoken. Hurtful, stinging things. The silence between them stretched, the only sound the muffled clopping of the horses on the street below and the ticking of the drawing room clock. She wasn't going to engage in a useless argument, poisoning her enjoyment of the evening ahead.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, she turned back. "If we do not hurry, we will be inexcusably late."

Lady Witte  studied her for a moment, but Audrey kept her face smooth.

"Then by all means, let us be off." The baroness strode from the room. After a tiny moment, Audrey squared her shoulders and followed.

When she and her parents arrived at the fancy dress ball, Audrey rapidly calculated how on earth she was going to slip away from her mother. Chaperones were all well and good for keeping the wolves at bay—though she had never had to worry about those—but they were burdensome when one
wished
to disappear. Fortunately, Mama immersed herself in discussion with her friends as soon as they entered the ballroom, leaving Audrey free to think.

She adjusted her demi-mask, a plain creation of brown, speckled feathers and smoothed the soft velvet of her gown. The costume had been created to bring to mind that of a pheasant, with its flowing lines and sweeping sleeves. It was almost medieval, the bodice lacing up the front and tied with long satin ribbons. Audrey had considered something bolder, such as Medusa, but the image of losing her headdress into the punch bowl gave her the shudders. It was just the sort of thing to happen to her.

There was a commotion at the entry to the ballroom and a man dressed in leathers, holding a bow, entered. Audrey felt a sharp slap of nerves as their gazes met across the room and she recognized Will's warm regard behind his plain mask of tanned leather. Audrey laughed quietly as he turned to greet their host and she saw the quiver on his back.

He was a hunter, to her pheasant. How had he known?

A lovely woman, slender and with hair the color of old Spanish gold, stepped up to Will's side and placed a proprietary hand on his sleeve. She looked around the room, chin held high, her deportment haughty and distant. Audrey stepped back in confusion, bumping into the pair of elderly ladies behind her.

"Oh...I...I do apologize." She glanced back at Will and his companion, who was dressed in gauzy, draped white. Audrey took in the gloriously feathered mask and her stomach dropped to her slippers. The lady was a swan.

Will hadn't dressed to match
her
, but the beautiful woman on his arm.

"Oh, poor Miss Ellis. I wonder who she is?"

She jolted as Beatrice stepped up next to her, slipping her arm through Audrey's, her smile catlike and sly.

"Whoever she is, she's quite lovely, do you not agree?" Beatrice tapped her fan on Audrey's wrist. "You didn't truly think the duke would pick
you
, did you?"

"I don't know what you mean."Audrey tugged discreetly on her arm, but the other girl merely tightened her grip.

Beatrice laughter tinkled, a sweet joyous sound that echoed evilly in Audrey's ears.

"Oh, you
did
. Come now, Miss Ellis. It's quite obvious that you are taken with the man." Audrey stared at her in horror. Was it obvious? Did everyone know? Beatrice leaned in, as if whispering a girlish confidence. "A peer so high never look lower than an earl's daughter, such as myself, for a wife. He might however make a baron's daughter his mistress, so you might be in luck after all."

Audrey wrenched her arm away, heedless of the startled looks she received from the other guests close to them.

Had Will been playing with her?

Head spinning, she thought back to their conversation in the garden. The duke had never mentioned marriage; she had just assumed that it was his aim. But what if it wasn't? Audrey felt as though her heart was being crushed by an iron fist, and it was then she realized her exact predicament.