The Perfect Duke (7 page)

Cara bit the skin on the inside of her mouth. How should she answer that? “I respect what he’s done here.”

“But?”

“He can be difficult.” She rushed to add, “However, I don’t think he means to be.”

“Difficult. What an apt word.” Mallory rose and joined her, then smiled, mischief lurking in her eyes. “Well, the next time he’s difficult, I want you to let me know. Perhaps I can help.”

Cara rose. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think it’s necessary. He can be very reasonable when he wants to be. The other day in the conservatory—”

“Where?”

“The conservatory.”

“He didn’t ask you to leave?”

“No.” Though he had been reluctant at first. But why would that be so unusual?

Mallory mouth dropped open, then a knowing grin spread across her face. She gave Cara a quick hug, nearly forcing all the air out of her. “Perhaps you won’t need my help after all. You see, you’re the only other person he’s ever allowed in that garden paradise of his.”

Mallory turned and left the room, a bounce in her step.

Cara crossed to the bed and sank onto the mattress, clutching the ornate bedpost. The wing of a cherub pressed into her cheek, so she ran her tongue back and forth over the resulting bulge in her mouth. What was going on here?

Garret’s sister appeared pleased that her brother had befriended his governess, but why? Did she think that Cara would stand in the way of Garret’s union to Regina? If that was what Mallory believed, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

Cara leaned against the balcony rail and watched the fashionable guests arrive, feeling like the little cinder girl from one of her stories. Of course, in the end, the girl in the story had attended the ball and found her prince. Cara raised her chin and took a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t likely in her case.

“She’s not nearly as pretty as you.” Rachel placed her arms along the banister and rested her chin on the tops of her hands.

“Who?”

“Lady Stanton. Aunt Mallory told me Uncle wants to marry her.”

“Where is she?” The question popped out before she thought about it. She shouldn’t want to know. But she did.

“Over there, next to Uncle.”

Cara found Garret with ease. He commanded attention. Tonight he wore blue velvet, with lace at his throat and cuffs. The cut of his waistcoat emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist. She longed to be by his side, to give him the opportunity to touch her.

Instead, a tall brunette graced his arm. Her classical features appeared flawless. Although, her neck might be just a trifle too long . . .
That wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be uncharitable.

She stepped forward and grasped the railing as Lord Worthington and his wife were announced. The earl stood tall and dark, a perfect foil to his petite, redheaded wife. Even from here, she could see the loving glance he exchanged with her before they disappeared into the press of guests.

What she wouldn’t give to be loved like that.

If only Garret could truly have been that man from her dream. There was no hope of that now.

“Uncle’s looking at you.”

Cara found him on the edge of the swaying dancers, Regina in his arms. In spite of his companion, he kept staring at her. He appeared as still and composed as normal, yet he emanated a longing that stole into her soul, causing her heart to beat faster.

Why me?
She wanted to fling the question at him. He danced with one of the most beautiful women of the Ton and yet he acted as if he wished she were in his arms. It didn’t make sense. Perhaps he simply wanted what he couldn’t have.

Just as she did.

She turned to her charge. “Rachel, how do you know Lady Stanton?”

“She visited Eberston House with Uncle. We went sailing. Although Uncle didn’t go with us, he hates the water.” Rachel turned back to Cara and scrunched up her nose. “Lady Stanton doesn’t like me. She didn’t want to be in my boat.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Cara smiled and brushed back a stray tendril from the girl’s forehead. “Who wouldn’t like you?” She took her charge by the shoulders and bent down until they were face-to-face. “I have an idea. Why don’t we see if Mrs. Shaw will send up some biscuits from the ball? Would you like that?” Rachel bobbed her head up and down, then started back through the entrance.

Cara allowed herself one more look at the plumed dancers below. They resembled gaily-colored birds with their feathers tossing in time to the music.

Once more she found Garret near the refreshment table. He still watched her and she gave him a slight smile. He raised his glass in a subtle salute.

The motion must have caught Regina’s attention, for she glanced upward with a curious expression. Garret’s intended smiled at her, a friendly, open smile that you couldn’t help but like.

Cara felt the blood rush from her face as she hastened to follow Rachel. Why did they have to appear so perfect together?

The mattress felt as hard as one of London’s cobblestone streets. Cara tossed for the twentieth time that night. Maybe she shouldn’t have had the tea and biscuits with Rachel. With a sigh, she sat up and swung her feet to the cool floor.

She scurried to find her slippers and wrap, then checked the time. Four in the morning, hardly the hour to start her day. The ball would only have finished up a short time ago. Everyone would have gone to bed and the ballroom would be . . . empty.

Feeling a bit like a child stealing out of bed, she grasped her candle, opened the door, then listened. The only sound was the sputtering of her taper’s flame in the draft.

She didn’t encounter anyone on her way to the ballroom. Gutted torches left a slight smell of pitch in the air as she came to the steps leading down to the grand room.

Moonlight streamed though the banks of windows lining one wall, providing every chair and table with a silver sheen. The servants had cleaned up the food, but her flower and fruit garlands still festooned the room. The polished wood floor glowed in the pale light, beckoning to her.

What did it matter that she hadn’t attended the ball? She could still imagine what it would be like. She set her candle on a delicate side table and removed her straight cut wrapper, then draped it over a chair.

Her ‘Maid in the Tower’ nightgown billowed around her legs as she moved out onto the center of the floor. After a deep curtsey to her imaginary partner, she grasped the edges of her chiffon skirt and started to twirl around the floor, humming a tune Tess had sung in one of her productions.

She closed her eyes and could almost feel Garret’s presence. He’d be a good dancer, no doubt. All the twirling made her a little dizzy, so she opened her eyes.

Garret stood in the doorway.

She stopped dancing, feeling suddenly self-conscious. As his eyes traveled over her attire, she crossed her arms. She should dart for her wrapper, but something in his gaze stopped her. Admiration? Desire? Warmth stole over her at the duke’s regard, and whether it was the lateness of the hour or the dream-like quality of the moment, she suddenly felt reckless.

Garret didn’t want to move, afraid that Cara wasn’t real and would disappear. If she was real, then she shouldn’t be here.

Hell, no woman was supposed to dance alone, at night, in a ballroom, and he wouldn’t exactly call what she wore a ball gown. The filmy white material seemed to drape her, bound to her body by thin bands of ribbon.

The garment reminded him of the gowns he’d seen on the Roman statuary in his garden, only Cara was real and the design accentuated her full breasts and slim waist. Heaven help him, it was the most provocative attire he’d ever seen. She appeared radiant, like a star, come to earth, shining and unattainable. His manhood reacted, becoming stiffer than the posture he usually assumed.

Cara held out her hand. “Dance with me?”

He swallowed. His head told him once again how inappropriate this whole situation was, but his aching body propelled him down the stairs and across the floor. In moments, he stood before her.

She gave him a shy smile and dropped a curtsey. “Your Grace.”

He took her hand and drew her close. She smelled fresh, like a field of wildflowers. He inhaled deeply as they began slow, measured steps around the dance floor. With a start, he realized she’d picked up the funny little tune that had drawn him here in the first place.

“Where did you learn that melody?”

“My friend, Tess. She’s in the theatre.”

“I see.” A duchess should never have an actress for a friend. “And why are you in the ballroom in the middle of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I know it’s silly, but I wanted to know what it felt like to dance in an elegant ballroom.”

“You’ve never been to a ball? Of course not, I forgot, you would not have had the opportunity.” He’d never considered that she might have been anticipating her first ball. Maybe he
was
becoming more like his grandfather than he thought. “I’m sorry.”

“No need, it wasn’t your fault that your sister returned.” She leaned back a little and studied his face, forcing the lower part of their bodies closer together. “So, why are
you
here?”

“I don’t sleep well.” He’d never sleep at all tonight if she kept pressing against him.

“Ever?”

“Not since my brother died.” He never mentioned Edward’s death, and yet it felt natural to talk about him with Cara.

“What was he like?”

“My brother?” He gripped her tighter. “My grandfather thought he was perfect.”

“And was he?”

“I guess that depends on what people consider perfection. He knew how to get around the old man. Never set a foot out of line in his presence.”

“But?”

“He also knew how to enjoy life. We used to sneak out at night
. Expeditions
, he called them.” How he wished he could relive those impetuous forays into the village. Edward had been more than a brother—he’d been a friend.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

They stopped dancing and he raised a hand to smooth back the tendrils of hair that feathered the edges of her face, then rested his palm against her cheek. “Yes, I miss him.” God, she was beautiful. All those years ago, he’d been charmed by her spirit, but the woman surpassed his expectations.

He brushed his lips against hers in a feather-light caress, but the chaste kiss fanned the flame that he’d struggled to keep in check. His arms encircled her and he drew her hard against him, pleased that there were no stays or corsets to separate them.

His mouth claimed hers, seeking, demanding. Flames danced in his blood. She moaned, her body’s softness ensnaring him. He coaxed her mouth open and pressed his tongue deep into the moist recess.

To hell with control. He wanted her, here and now, in the midst of an empty, moon-drenched ballroom. He squeezed the soft mound of her breast, rubbing his thumb over the taut nipple.

She appeared dazed as he nibbled and kissed his way down her throat, then sucked the tender tip of her breast through the thin material. With a gasp, she stepped back.

Her hand trembled as she brushed back the hair from her face, then crossed her arms. “We should not, Your Grace.”

“Why?” He stepped toward her, but she backed away.

“You’re promised to another.”

“Who told you? Mallory?”

She dropped her gaze. “I overheard you. It’s not that I meant to eavesdrop, but the door was ajar. Lady Stanton will make an admirable duchess.”

“Yes, she will.” So that’s why Cara had been acting so odd. His throbbing body cried out to tell her . . . what?

“I have no wish to ruin my reputation. Don’t ask for something I shouldn’t give.” She stared up at him with her huge luminous eyes. “Please.”

His behavior must seem unacceptable in her eyes. He had to stop thinking of her as his betrothed. “I promise. I will never touch you again, unless you ask me to.”

“And I shall never ask.”

He hoped she didn’t speak the truth.

She retrieved her wrap, clutching it to her breast. “With your permission, I think I’ll retire.”

“As you wish.” He watched the gentle sway of her hips as she ascended the stairs and passed out of sight.

He’d never be able to keep from touching her. It would be like the stars refusing to appear in the heavens. He was drawn to her strange mixture of childlike enthusiasm and solid wisdom. At the moment, he wished she’d been a little less practical, but she had a point. The whole situation had become ludicrous.

She’d passed all his tests, and he obviously found her attractive. He doubted his aroused state would abate anytime soon. So there appeared to be only one solution.

Marry her.

The seven dwarfs delved in the mountains. They became Snow’s family, and tried to protect her from the evil in the world.

Snow White

“What’s wrong?” Cara knew that expression on Tess’s face. Her friend never furrowed her brow unless something dire had happened. Fear, bordering on panic, gripped her until she couldn’t breathe. “How’s Papa? Is he sick?”

“No.” Tess crossed the morning room and grasped Cara’s hands. “He’s fine.” She squeezed them and smiled. “Really.” Her delicate features were drawn and her black hair, which she normally wore loose, had been smoothed back in a tight chignon.

Relief took all the energy from Cara’s body.
Thank God.
But if it wasn’t Papa, then something else must be wrong. “What is it? Why are you here? You weren’t going to visit me. Remember?”

Tess appeared tired and something shadowed her deep brown eyes before she averted her gaze. Fear perhaps? Or apprehension? Cara caught her lower lip between her teeth.

Her friend let go of her hands, walked over to the table, and picked up a platter piled high with scones. She sniffed them, an exaggerated look of appreciation on her face. “I’m sorry, I interrupted your breakfast. I can come back.”

“Tess.”

Her friend’s face crumpled and her breath came out in a huff. “Oh, all right.” She set the dish back on the table. “They’re missing. I hadn’t wanted to tell you, but I can see no one else has.”

“Who are?”

“Some of the children.”

“What do you mean
missing?”
Fear drenched Cara like a sudden immersion in an icy stream. She sank onto the closest chair.

“They’ve stopped attending the school and no one’s seen them. I can’t find out what’s been going on.” Tess took a scone off the plate, broke it, and nibbled a corner. “It started about two weeks ago. Your father and Mr. Russell think it’s nothing to fret about. They suspect they’ve run off. But I’m worried.”

Cara frowned at the scone in Tess’ hand. “You’re going to become plump. Eating won’t solve anything.”

Tess made an elaborate display of dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, but kept the scone.

Cara tapped her index finger against her lower lip. Perhaps one of the instructors had simply angered a couple of the students. “How many children are gone?”

“Five. Becky, Amy, Timothy, John, and Tommy.”

“
Five
.” She stood, wanting to do something, anything. Her heart pounded until she couldn’t seem to think properly.
If she’d been there this never would have happened
. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I thought perhaps I was overreacting.” Tess fidgeted with the scone. “It’s not as if some of the children don’t forsake their schooling. Some still prefer life on the streets.”

“True, but you said Tommy Lindstrom is one of the missing?”

“Yes.”

“He’d never leave. His progress has been almost miraculous.” Cara pictured the earnest, tow-headed boy. He’d been a pickpocket before he’d joined them. “Granted, he was a bit high-strung.”

“That’s the odd thing. Only the children that have been troublesome go missing.” Tess finished off the scone and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I’ve put word out on the street. If anyone sees them, they’re to let me know immediately.”

“Good.” Cara rose and began to pace the room, her arms crossed. What would cause them to vanish? They were different ages, with different backgrounds. There didn’t seem to be any connection between them, other than the school and their behavior. “Have there been any strangers in the area?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but then I only visit on occasion.”

“What do the other children think happened?”

Tess gave her a rueful smile. “They don’t trust me the way they do you. No one will answer my questions.”

“What about the instructors?”

“No one has noticed anything out of the ordinary.” Tess, concern marring her expressive features, stepped in front of her, hindering her progress across the room. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Now all you’ll do is worry. There’s nothing you can accomplish from here.”

“No. There isn’t.” Cara pictured the duke, alone in the silvery moonlight. Her stomach tightened. Only one thing
was
clear in her jumbled thoughts and emotions; she couldn’t forsake her students. With a sigh, she squared her shoulders then gave Tess a small smile.

“I’ll have to return home.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Mallory sat across from Garret in the drawing room, stubbornness etched on her features.

“In regard to?” He listened to the tapping of her slipper on the polished wood floor and the popping of the embers in the fireplace. It had been a long night. After his encounter with Cara, he hadn’t slept, and now all he wanted was to be left alone.

“Where shall I start? Let’s see.” She counted off the points on her fingers. “First, you sent me to Aunt Liza’s house to get me out of Belcraven, you coax Evan into leaving Rachel with you and hire Miss McClure, you then ask her to take my place and arrange for a ball.” Mallory crossed her arms. “And all this would seem perfectly innocent except that you’ve never wanted to spend five minutes in Rachel’s presence and you detest balls.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Or reason. Who is she?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Miss McClure. She seems to be the focus of this little game you’re playing.”

“It is not a game.” Garret sighed. In light of his decision last night, it wouldn’t matter if she knew the truth. “Her real name is Caroline Pemberton.”

Mallory opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She tried again and stopped. At last she found her voice. “But, she’s dead.”

“Obviously not.” Garret tried to rein in his anger as he explained past events.

Mallory pursed her lips, and ran her nails back and forth along the skin under her chin during his tale. “You’re sure of this informant?”

“Lord Bradford has made inquiries into the matter for me. The cooper spoke the truth.”

“Do the Pembertons know?”

“Do you think she would be here if they did?”

“Point taken. So, you’re betrothed to her.” Mallory gave a sudden grin, leaned over, and flicked his cravat. “I imagine that shook up your ordered world.”

“Your amusement at my expense would not be considered ladylike.”

Mallory raised a brow. “Has that ever stopped me?”

Garret sighed again and stood, pacing in front of the fire. “No, little sister, it has not.”

“You’ve been deceiving her all this time?” Mallory gave him a reproving look.

“What choice did I have?”

“So you brought her here to court her?” Mallory glanced up at the portrait of their grandfather. “Or was it to see if Miss McClure fit into the elevated notion you have of what a duchess should be.”

“I did need to see if she would be acceptable.”

Mallory leaned back in her chair. “Oh, Garret, when are you going to stop this charade? Grandfather’s been dead for years now.”

“It has nothing to do with grandfather. I made Edward a promise.” Why couldn’t his siblings understand?

Moisture glistened in Mallory’s eyes. “I can’t believe that Edward would have approved of what you’ve become.”

“And that is?”

“A man who no longer listens to what his heart is telling him. You make your decisions based on a warped old man’s standards.”

Garret stood. “I have responsibilities that you can not begin to fathom. My own desires died with Edward. I vowed that nothing,
nothing
, would tarnish the Kendal name now that I am duke.” He crossed to the liquor table, poured a brandy, inhaling the slight blackberry aroma as he took a large swallow. “The title should never have been mine.” He swirled the alcohol in the glass, watching the whirlpool that formed, then raised his glass and swallowed the remainder in one gulp. Heat seared his throat. “I do not deserve to be the duke.” It had to be the brandy that made his voice sound strained.

“You’re wrong.” Mallory stood, crossed to him, and touched his arm. “You weren’t to blame for Edward’s death, and you could be a better duke than any Kendal that’s ever lived.”

Mallory always had been given to exaggeration. But, no, he knew what was right. “I’m glad to know you don’t think I’m entirely above redemption.”

“You aren’t. Bringing Miss McClure here has proved that.”

Her gaze held a wisdom that surprised him. When had she grown up?

“I know what Grandfather would have done.” She poured some red wine into a glass and took a sip, in spite of the reproving arch of his brows. “Only one question remains. Have you found Miss McClure suitable?

“Yes.”

Mallory shook her head, wonder lighting her features. “Thank God for that, though I haven’t the slightest idea how she managed it.” She moved to stand in front of the fireplace, then gazed into the flames. “Garret, how do you feel about her?”

He returned to his seat next to the fire. “She’s attractive, and she won’t embarrass the Kendal name. What else do I need?”

“I should have known.” She turned to him with a wistful expression. “I’d always hoped that you’d fall . . . Never mind. I like Miss McClure. At least she’s not that pinch-faced Regina. When do you plan on telling your governess about her heritage?”

“After the marriage has been consummated.” His manhood hardened at the thought. Before too long, Cara would be his.

“What! Do you think that’s wise?” Mallory set her glass on the mantle. “How does she feel?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, does she have feelings for you? I doubt you’ve been exactly a charming suitor. Besides, she still thinks she’s a vicar’s daughter and a governess.”

“None of that matters. I am a duke. She should consider herself fortunate to marry me.” At her raised eyebrows, his voice became stern. “I would provide for her and her adoptive father. What more could she ask from a marriage?”

“What more, indeed.” Mallory collected her needlework from a basket in the corner, sat down across from him, drew out a blue strand of floss, then threaded her needle. “If I were you, dear brother, I’d ask her soon.” Mallory took a stitch, then met his gaze. “I’d much rather have Miss McClure as my sister-in-law, but to be quite honest, I’m not at all sure she’ll have you.”

Garret stared at the chaos in Cara’s bedroom. Two men were hefting a trunk, a maid sorted through gowns that littered the bed, and Cara stood at the wardrobe, pondering the remaining clothing. “What is going on here?” At the sound of Garret’s voice, everyone froze.

Cara turned, looking for all-the-world like a little girl caught stealing a sweet. She dropped into a quick curtsey. “Your Grace.”

“Out.” At Garret’s command, the two footmen attempted to hurry from the room laden with the trunk. “Leave that.” They lowered it to the floor and followed the maid through the doorway. Garret shut the door and turned back to Cara. “When were you going to tell me?”

“As soon as I’d packed.”

“If this has anything to do with last night—”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why?”

Cara proceeded to the bed and picked up a pale blue dress he recognized as one Mallory had worn. “It’s personal.” She added it to a trunk and shut the lid. “I’m leaving the gowns that were altered for me and those you had made.” She faced him, a composed young woman. “I realize, as I was not able to fulfill my obligation, that you will not be able to provide a reference, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t hinder any future attempts I might make at acquiring a new position.”

He moved to stand in front of her. Only the control he’d learned over the years kept him from taking her in his arms and kissing her until she agreed not to leave him. “I am not going to allow you to exit this room until you tell me what has happened.”

“It’s not your affair, Your Grace.”

“Garret.”

She sighed and appeared to crumple onto the trunk behind her. “There’s nothing you can do, Garret. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to help.”

He sat next to her, making sure they didn’t touch. “You can start by telling me the problem.”

“You’re aware of the school I started on Drury Lane?”

“Of course.”

“Some of the children are missing.”

“Perhaps they ran away.”

“That’s what Papa and Mr. Russell thought.” She angled toward him, her lower lip moistened as she sucked it into her mouth, then released it. He struggled to focus on what she said. “They wouldn’t have left. Two of them were very close to being placed in households. And no one has seen them. Even if they decided to leave the school, they’d never leave the area. They had nowhere to go.”

“What can you do if you return?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try or I’d never forgive myself.” She gazed at him with serious eyes, and he realized with a start that these children were as important to her as the dukedom was to him.

Garret took a deep breath. “If you must return, then I will go with you.”

“Why? There’s no need. This isn’t your concern.”

“Last I knew, a duke could be concerned about anything he wanted to.” She’d never agree to marry him before she’d settled this, and until he had her safely tied to him, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. “Besides, London’s streets are not safe. You need someone to look after you.” Even if the cooper told the truth about speaking to no one else, Garret felt ill at ease. Her mysterious benefactor obviously knew her history and he couldn’t afford to have Cara find out just yet.

Cara smiled. “I’ve been looking after myself on those streets since I was a little girl. It’s kind of you to offer, but I can’t have a duke come to visit. If there is something amiss at the school, you’d frighten them into ceasing their behavior, but they’d only start again once you’d left.” She stood and stared down at him with a wistful gaze. “I am going to miss you.”