The Other Duke (18 page)

“She is not in love with me,” he interrupted with a frown. “In fact, she is insistent that we are going to have separate lives as soon as I can find her a new home to flee to.”

Annabelle stared at him with an unreadable expression for what felt like an eternity. Then she shocked him by tilting her head back and letting out a peel of laughter that echoed in the room just like the music that was normally played there.

Rafe glared at her.

“I’m happy my pain causes you so much pleasure,” he ground out. “You are a heartless thing.”

His sister reached out to touch his arm with one hand while she wiped away tears of laughter with the other.

“You misunderstand. I find no amusement in your pain.” She tried to catch her breath. “It’s just that…that…”

She trailed off with more laughter and Rafe huffed out his breath and turned away. She followed him, gathering her composure along the way

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I only find it funny because I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman who hasn’t looked at you and had little fantasies about a future as your loving wife. All my friends even had designs to tame you and love you for all time. For years, I had to listen to so many of them rant on and on. It was disgusting.”

Rafe’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Oh yes, taming a rake is a very common fantasy, I assure you. And now you find someone and she has no interest in taming you at all.” Another giggle bubbled from her lips. “No wonder she appeals to you—she is indeed a singular creature.”

He swallowed. “She is that. But her reticence isn’t the appeal, I assure you. She is…she is…”

“Beautiful,” his sister suggested.

Rafe frowned. “Yes, of course, but there is so much more to her. She has a wire of strength that weaves through her in everything she does. She has endured hardship with Cyril that—”

He cut himself off as anger mobbed him, and gripped his fists at his sides.

Annabelle paled and all her laughter vanished in an instant. Her voice was a mere whisper when she asked, “Was our cousin very cruel?”

“More than you could ever imagine,” Rafe managed through gritted teeth. “As was her own family in turns. And yet she has retained a light, a humor, an intelligence, a desire to better those around her that is admirable to her core.”

Annabelle’s face softened. “If what you say is true, and I have no doubt that it is, I think I shall like my sister-in-law a great deal.”

“You will,” Rafe agreed. “The two of you have so much in common, actually.” He sighed. “It could be so perfect, except she doesn’t want a life with me.”

“Why?”

He shook his head. “That cruelty we spoke of earlier, it scarred her inside. She wants freedom from being forced into a role or a life or a marriage.”

Annabelle nodded. “I can understand her desire to escape her past and the expectations it entails.”

Rafe frowned at the way she said those words, as if they were something more she had in common with his bride, but she continued before he could question her further.

“So what do you wish to do?”

He sucked in a breath. “I want to win her. To woo her. To give her a reason to stay.”

Annabelle blinked up at him. “And do you truly intend to love her for all time? Is this something more than a passing fancy because she is all but unattainable?”

He nodded without hesitation. “My love for her has only grown since I admitted it to myself. I think of no one but her, in a way I have never experienced with even the most talented of lov—”

Annabelle held up a hand with a shudder. “Please don’t say lovers. It is too much for an innocent sister to bear. I don’t want to hear of your conquests from you, news of them has circulated to me over the years more often than I would have liked.”

“There will be no more of those, I assure you,” he said.

“Good. You’ve had plenty.” She frowned.

He shook his head. “Crispin would disagree.”

“Crispin has had plenty too,” Annabelle growled. “And you must realize he may fight you on this. You settling down seems to be a threat to him, although despite that feeling, he appears to like your wife very much.”

“He wants to protect me.” Rafe sighed.

“Don’t allow him to protect you into heartbreak,” she said.

“And that is your only advice on the matter?”

She laughed. “No. I am an endless fount of advice on all topics.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of that, I am fully aware. Let us start with this one, shall we?”

“Very well. I assume based on your friendly exchanges the few times I have seen you together that Serafina does not despise you. She merely resists a future together thanks to her fears, yes?”

“You are right. We get along splendidly, actually.”

“You talk, you share more than mere, uh, physical connection?” His sister blushed almost purple.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Then you are beginning to recognize what she values, both in others and what she wishes to be valued for.”

He thought of her claim that no one ever saw her for more than her beauty. “Yes.”

“Gift her those things. Strive to be a man she can admire. And admire
her
for her true gifts rather than whatever others see her to be. If a man does that…” She dipped her head. “Well, a woman could not help but fall in love with him.”

“That’s actually very good advice,” Rafe said, examining his sister’s face closely. “Is it from personal experience?”

Annabelle turned away. “No one has ever done those things for me. It is only a lifetime lived as a woman that gives me an insight.”

He leaned in and caught her hand briefly. “You deserve no less than what you describe, you know.”

She shrugged. “But this is not my story, Rafe. You focus on your future and I will focus on myself when the time is right.”

He frowned. There was something in his sister’s face, a vague expression of…
desperation
that made him want to press her further on the subject, but she turned away from him and walked toward the door without allowing his prying.

“Now, come with me. As you know, Mama requires saving from Serafina’s God-awful father. We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer.”

He trailed behind her back toward the parlor where the rest of the party was gathered, his thoughts a jumbled mess of Annabelle’s advice and mounting plans of how to make his wife
his
.

Crispin Flynn laughed and Serafina couldn’t help but stare. There was so much about this man that put her to mind of Rafe and yet she could see the differences too. Crispin had a harder edge than his brother, a darker intensity. And while he was certainly nothing but polite to her, she was well aware he was feeling her out, determined to protect Rafe.

She couldn’t hate him for it. In fact, she rather envied that her husband had so many people in his life who cared so deeply for him.

“And how do you think my brother takes to being duke?” Crispin asked.

She felt the edge to his tone and straightened up out of a protective reflex. “I think he is adjusting well enough, though he will never love his position.”

“Do you aim to change that?” Crispin asked softly. “To seduce him into embracing this new future?”

She blinked at the double meaning of the question. “I doubt I have the power to seduce a man as intelligent and strong as Raphael into anything,” she replied evenly. “But if I can ease the transition for him, I will certainly do anything I can to help.”

“Parties seem to be the main thrust of the plan.”

She knew it was a subtle putdown, but she shrugged it off. “Aren’t they always? It is amazing how much business is done on the ballroom floor. Right now Rafe must show his face to the Upper Ten Thousand. He must claim what has been placed on his shoulders and behave as though it is comfortable to him.”

“Until it truly is?” Crispin asked.

She tilted her head. “You behave as if the time when your brother will be more accepting of the inevitable is a bad thing.”

“He was forced into a life that wasn’t his own,” Crispin said, his eyes darkening. “I can’t help but hate that fact.”

She reached out and briefly touched his arm. “You are a good brother and I cannot imagine how difficult it is for your family to stand by and watch Rafe get sucked into this unwanted change. But may I suggest that a better help to him than stewing about it may be to accept some of the invitations that have been sent your way?”

He stiffened, and she hastened to explain herself. “I’ve been told by several ladies that you and your mother and sister have been invited since Rafe’s inheritance.”

He nodded. “Over the years our family has had enough money and influence that we were asked to the parties of the titled occasionally. My father hated that rot and we never went.”

Serafina smiled. “Yes, Rafe has told me a bit about your father. I wish I’d had the chance to meet him.”

Crispin’s gaze narrowed. “My brother confided in you about our father?”

She nodded.

He seemed to ponder that fact for a long moment with a troubled expression he finally wiped clean. “You are correct that the invitations to those kinds of things have begun again.”

“I realize you don’t want to do it, that perhaps it even goes against your nature, but it might help Rafe to have you there.”

His eyebrows lifted. “To show our acceptance of this folly?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. I meant more as a comfort to him. He is surrounded by those he knows vaguely at best. I know he loves his family deeply and your presence at his side might simply make him more comfortable.”

Crispin drew back in what seemed to be surprise at that statement. Then he gathered his composure. “I’ll consider it.”

“Good,” she said, smiling.

He stared at her even closer. “You truly are unexpected, just as he has said.”

“Unexpected?”

“It is a compliment, I assure you,” Crispin said with a laugh.

She wanted to ask for elaboration, but before she could, she felt a touch on her shoulder. When she turned, it was her father standing at her side. Her heart sank. Although he hadn’t interacted much with her this evening, his presence had been like a constant rap on the back of her head. Annoying and worrisome.

“Father,” she said with a falsely bright tone. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He nodded like his head was on a spring. “Oh yes, very much so. Mr. Flynn, your mother is a wonderful hostess.”

Crispin forced a smile, not very believably. “Thank you. We like her.”

Her father’s gaze moved to Serafina again. “Will you excuse us? I would like to speak to my daughter in private for a moment.”

Serafina did her best to keep her heart rate down, but those words gripped her in the way no others could. But there was no escape without causing a scene. Rafe had left the room with Annabelle a few moments earlier and no one else knew how much she dreaded her father’s presence.

She smiled apologetically at Crispin. “I hope we’ll talk again later.”

He inclined his head slightly. “I’m sure we will.”

Her father took her arm and maneuvered her away from Crispin. When he walked toward the door, she tugged back a fraction.

“What are you doing?”

His lips thinned. “I wanted to speak to you in private, Serafina. Mrs. Flynn told me we could use the parlor across the hall.”

Serafina barely contained the urge to flee and allowed her father to take her to the opposite room. When they entered, he released her and crossed to the fire.

She steadied her nerves with a deep breath and then said, “What is you need to discuss that requires privacy?”

He glared at her. “You have not contacted me since your wedding. I want to know how things are going between you and the new duke.”

She smoothed her skirts. “As well as can be expected,” she began. “We are of a mind on more issues than I believed we would be. He is kind and intelligent and—”

Her father cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Do you think I care about any of that?”

She shook her head, fighting the swell of sadness that accompanied his dismissal of her feelings. She expected it by now, but oh, how it continued to sting. Especially when confronted with Rafe’s family and their strong bond. His mother, his sister, even his brother only cared about Rafe. His happiness was paramount to all of them.

And here was her father, leaning in, his eyes glittering with his own desires.

“Then what do you want to know?” she asked softly. “If my contentment means as little now as it ever did.”

Her father frowned, and there was a flash of desperation in his eyes. “When you were to marry Cyril, he was established and respected. Our bargain benefited me as much as it did him. But with Flynn, it is different. So, tell me—is he being accepted? Is he interested in the influence that comes along with his title? Or is he as frivolous as gossip says?”

She folded her arms, suddenly defensive of Rafe. “He is anything but frivolous. In fact, I would say Cyril was a far emptier vessel than Raphael.”

“Answer my question.”

“Rafe is charismatic and handsome as well as rich. When he walks into a room, he commands it naturally, so he garners a great deal of interest, more than he likely desires. But he knows the responsibility that has been laid upon him and I have no doubt he will thrive as duke. You needn’t worry about his future influence.”

Her father took a long step toward her. “Good. I would hate to think I’d lost something in this bargain.”

“The bargain
you
insisted we carry out, despite our mutual protest,” she said softly.

He jerked his face toward hers. “Watch your tone. And while we’re speaking on these things, you need to move yourselves back into the ducal estate. London is talking endlessly about the fact that you two hole up in Flynn’s bachelor home. This does nothing to negate Hartholm’s notorious reputation.”

Serafina shook her head. Her father was likely correct in that assessment, but she couldn’t imagine Rafe would care. He was not ashamed of his past. And he always encouraged her not to be embarrassed by hers, either.

“Once you are where you belong,” her father continued, “you will have a ball and invite all the best of Society. And me.”

Serafina turned away from her father and strode across the room. “I do not doubt that at some point Rafe will take up residence in the ducal home. But I won’t be with him.”

“What?” her father snapped.

“His Grace and I have come to our own arrangements, Father. I will not be living with him. Of course, I shall provide him heirs and spares; I would do nothing to humiliate him or lower the way he or the title is seen. But this marriage was not something either of us wanted and we have already determined that we won’t destroy ourselves by pretending otherwise.”

She said the words, but they did not ring as true as they once had when she made that very bargain with Rafe. After all, he was so much more than she’d ever thought he could be. She
liked
him. And yet
this
was where they stood.

She looked at her father over her shoulder, surprised he had not responded to her shocking announcement. His face was red as a vibrant rose and his nostrils flared.

“You cannot be serious about that foolish statement,” he finally said, his tone filled with anger and betrayal. It was as if she was doing something to
him
.

“I most certainly am,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t tremble in the face of his obvious anger. “And as far as a party at the ducal home is concerned, I do not see that happening any time soon. I don’t wish to arrange it and I doubt Rafe feels differently.”

Her father moved across the room at surprising speed and his hand closed over her upper arm like a steel trap. He shook her once, digging his fingers into her bare flesh as he hissed, “Do you think you can deny me just because you are no longer in my house? I am your father, Serafina, and I will not be deprived of the small benefit having you and raising you has provided.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to meter her breath, trying to think of some kind of response in the face of his anger and threats.

But she didn’t have to say anything. There was suddenly the sound of a throat clearing at the door and she opened her eyes to see Rafe standing in the entryway, his glare locked on her and her father.

“McPhee, I would suggest that you take your hands off my wife,” he said, his tone low but filled with undeniably dangerous warning.

It was obvious her father heard it as well, for he let her go immediately and pivoted to face Rafe. “I am owed—”

“
You
have been paid in full,” Rafe said, his face never changing, but his eyes burning with an increasingly high and hot fire.

“She’s
my
daughter,” her father whined.

Rafe arched a brow. “She is my wife. Whatever claim you had on her left you the moment the wedding ended. Now I would suggest that you gather your things from my butler and depart this gathering early.”

“And why should I do that?” Her father attempted to sneer and yet the catch in his voice told Serafina of his fear. She said nothing, but her heart swelled at that unusual sound.

Rafe took a long step into the room. “Because if you don’t leave, you will truly suffer the headache I will be telling my family you are experiencing as an excuse for your departure.”

“You threaten me?”

Rafe leaned forward. “I
promise
you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” her father said softly.

He tossed her one glare before he strode toward the door. He eased to the side, out of Rafe’s way, as he left the room and went into the foyer, where Serafina heard him call for his horse.

She heard nothing more, for Rafe quietly shut the door behind himself and stepped closer.

“Is your arm bruised?” he asked.

She lifted it to look at it. There were a few red marks from her father’s tense fingers. “Not yet.”

His lips thinned. “I ought to follow him outside and beat him until he bleeds.”

She moved forward and swiftly closed her hands over his. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Rafe, you did enough.”

Suddenly she was aware of how close he was, how warm he was, how much she wanted to wrap her arms around him and show him how much his defense of her meant.

“I did nothing,” he said, but his gaze darted to her lips, as if he shared her passionate thoughts.