Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 9

  “I did. I am afraid I bungled it, and she was not receptive.”

  “You offered a marriage proposal to my daughter and she said no?” Wilton’s face grew so red Alex worried the man might suffer apoplexy.

  “I did not exactly offer properly and she did not exactly refuse. However, based on the conversation we did have, there might be a need to turn my search elsewhere.”

  Wilton slammed his glass down on the table. “We will see about that.” He hopped up, but before he could leave, Alex growled, “Stop.”

  Wilton turned his angry glare toward him.

  “Do not pressure your daughter. I do not need, nor do I desire, any assistance from you or anyone else. With less interference, the better chance we have to come to some agreement.”

  After a brisk nod, Wilton left the room. Alex downed the rest of his drink and stared moodily at the fireplace in front of him. In the past few years, two Dukes of Bedford had been laid to rest. If war taught him nothing else, it was one could not count on a lengthy life.

  Marriage was a necessity to fulfill his duties. Nothing more. However, besides preferring not to take the necessary time to search for a bride, if marriage was required, he honestly wanted Patience. His desire for her strengthened every day. At this point, he could think of no other woman who would satisfy him.

  If he could not recover his soul and offer her his love, he could give her pleasure in the bedchamber, children, and a comfortable life.

  Hopefully, that would be enough.

  Chapter Nine

  After hiding in her bedchamber for two days after Alex’s boorish marriage proposal, Patience roused herself and agreed to accompany her mother to a sedate garden party. Mother had assured her there would be no more than twenty guests, and despite her reluctance to say so, she confirmed that as far as she knew, Alex had sent his regrets.

  Patience studied herself in her mirror and tucked her hair into her bonnet. She grumbled that Alex had better not be there because she would break with all social mores and ignore him. Wouldn’t that give the nosy gossipmongers something to keep their tongues busy?

  Lord, she was sick of men. Her father was more interested in selling her off to the highest bidder. Now the highest bidder was dead, and his replacement wanted her to jump into marriage as a convenience for him. No words of love, or even caring. Like her father, Alex’s comment was simply “do this because it makes my life easier.”

  How she longed for the Alex she knew four years ago. He had been sweet and whispered words of love to her, and had made her feel special and cared for. This cold man who had returned from the military looked at her with lust. Not that those heated glances were bad—certainly not. And his kisses…

  She wanted, and yes, deserved, more than lust and demands. But oh, how she missed his touch, his kiss, his body next to hers. Chastising herself for allowing Alex to tie her into knots even when he was not with her, she settled into their carriage.

  She would enjoy this garden party and possibly meet women with whom she would become friends. Patience put a smile on her face and linked her arm with Mother’s. For this afternoon, she would put the Duke of Bedford far from her mind.

  The thought cheered her considerably.

  …

  Alex leaned back in his chair and addressed Mr. Merlin, his secretary. “That is about all I can handle for today.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I will have the correspondence ready for your signature later this afternoon.”

  Alex waved him off. “No hurry, I will be out for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning will suffice.”

  He would be out for the rest of the day because he could no longer stand being inside. His years of the military had not been spent, for the most part, inside four walls. Now, a feeling of choking, of not having enough air, swept over him, forcing him to take flight.

  After quickly changing into his riding clothes and tacking Night Storm himself, too impatient to wait for the stable master, he rode out of the city limits and into open acreage. He could have ridden on Rotten Row in Hyde Park, but he had no desire for companionship and useless chatter.

  What he needed was a clear head to decide what to do with Patience. He snorted. He didn’t need to think long and hard on what he wanted to do with Patience. Kiss her senseless, drag her to his bed, strip off her clothes, and make love to her until neither of them could walk.

  Considering how he’d botched his proposal, that fantasy would not come to pass anytime soon. Perhaps he should buy some flowers, go to her townhouse, and get down on one knee—as was the custom—and offer a proper proposal.

  The thought nudged at the back of his mind that the reason he’d failed to offer a decent proposal was his uncertainty about even wanting marriage. Despite his duty and responsibility.

  Patience was a wonderful young woman who deserved more than him. He, with his dark secrets, frequent nightmares, and shattered soul, was certainly no woman’s dream.

  He pushed Night Storm until the animal’s foaming and blowing came to his notice. He slowed down and moved into a canter, then a trot, and finally walked the animal until he reached a pond with surrounding trees where he pulled up on the reins and dismounted.

  After wiping the horse down with grass, he walked him to the edge of the pond where he drank greedily. Alex sat alongside him, his forearms braced on his upraised knees, gazing out at the pond, wondering what his next move with Patience should be.

  As much as he’d wanted her for four years, it would almost have been easier had she and Cyrus married. Then she would be out of reach, he could forget her, and marry a woman who wanted no more than his title and money. Knowing Patience as he did, she would not settle for that. She wanted more. Much more.

  And he wasn’t at all sure he had it in him to give it to her.

  …

  Patience wiped the windowpane, trying to at least look out at the gloomy, rainy day. A drop of water slowly made its way down the glass until it puddled on the wooden frame, then pooled with the others. She sighed.

  “For goodness’ sake, Patience, come away from the window and work on your embroidery.” Mother frowned as she stabbed her needle into her piece.

  “I am sick of embroidery.”

  “Then read a book.”

  They both turned as Wickham entered the room. “My lady, the Duke of Bedford is requesting an audience.”

  “No. I am not at home to visitors.” She sat in her chair and picked up her sewing, her face flushed with anger. She was not ready to see Alex. Her feelings were still raw over how he’d treated her.

  Mother gasped. “You cannot turn away a duke!”

  Patience continued to stab at the poor piece of cloth. “I can, and I just did.”

  Wickham lingered at the door, a confused expression on his face. He was well trained and knew one did not snub a duke. Well, she would. “That is all, Wickham. Thank you.”

  He turned on his heel and left. Patience returned to her embroidery, ignoring the disapproval radiating in waves from her mother.

  “Patience.”

  She didn’t raise her head. “What?”

  “I am still your mother, and while I cannot order you to see His Grace, I deserve your respect. Please look at me when I am speaking to you.”

  Patience glanced up, her chin in the air. “Like the respect Father gives you?”

  Her mother sucked in a deep breath, two patches of bright red on her cheeks. “That is uncalled for.”

  “But true.” She would not back down now. Her mother’s acceptance of her father’s ill treatment had allowed the man to bully everyone. Had her mother stood up to him, perhaps all of their lives would have been different.

  “You know nothing of your father and me.”

  “I know you spend many a day behind closed doors suffering from his abuse.” She put her needlework aside. “Why, Mother? Why do you allow that?”

  Tears sprang to the woman’s eyes. “Allow? Do you think I allowed that? I had no choice. Once you marry y
ou become your husband’s property to do with as he chooses. To whom was I to complain?”

  “You could have requested to live in one of his other estates. Or gone to Bath, or somewhere else, and taken me with you. We would have been happier.”

  “Oh, my dear daughter. You know so little of the world. I regret what your father did to you more than what he did to me. You should never have been betrothed to Cyrus. The man was a monster.” She closed her eyes. “I had heard stories, but your father would not listen.”

  Patience rose from her chair and settled on the floor at her mother’s knee. “Why did he do it? I had never heard the duke’s name mentioned before we all traveled to the Abbey when he made his announcement.”

  “The duke owed him.”

  She drew back and studied her mother. She remembered Father saying something similar to her once, but she’d shoved that to the back of her mind. “What do you mean? What did the duke owe him?”

  “His silence.” A faraway look came into Mother’s eyes, and she smiled softly.

  More confused than ever, she said, “Whatever do you mean?”

  Mother ran her hand over Patience’s hair. “A long time ago, the Duke of Bedford and I had plans to marry.”

  Patience sucked in a breath. Her mother and the duke? “What happened?”

  “What generally happens when a young couple in our class fall in love. His parents decided someone else would suit him better, and my parents liked your father.”

  She couldn’t imagine anyone liking her father, but perhaps he’d been different in his youth. Unable to digest all of this, Patience sat back on her heels, a thousand thoughts swirling through her mind. “I still do not understand what the duke owed father.”

  Mother stood and walked to the window, her back to Patience. Could she not look at her when she told her story?

  “Your father and I were married a few years—it was after you were born—when we attended a house party where the duke and duchess were guests, also.” She stopped talking and just stared out at the rain.

  When it appeared her mother would not continue unless urged to do so, Patience whispered, “Go on.”

  She turned and raised her chin, looking directly at Patience. “We had a brief affair that week. I soon discovered I was with child, but since your father had not touched me in that way for months, he knew the child wasn’t his.”

  Patience was stunned into silence. An affair? Mother?

  Sitting down once again, she continued, the words rushing out as if she needed to say them quickly, or they would not be said at all. “When I told your father, he beat me so severely I lost the babe. Things were never good between us, but after that they were much worse. When he told me of his plan to marry you to the duke’s heir, I was—needless to say—upset.

  “You father said he had threatened the duke with revealing our story to the duchess. As much as I like the duchess, she is a hard woman and quite prideful. She would have made Bedford’s life miserable had she learned what had happened.”

  “Even after all those years?”

  “Yes. You see, according to the marriage agreements drawn up by the late duke and the duchess’s father, she had control of a great deal of money that the duke needed.”

  Her mouth dry and her voice shaky she said, “And so you allowed Father to do the same thing to me that the duke’s father had done to him and you?”

  One lone tear slid down her face. “I tried to stop it when I saw how much you and Alex cared for each other. But your father said he needed the connection to the duke, and if I attempted to thwart him you would pay the price.” She gave her a loving look. “And I know what that would have meant. I figured a broken heart would heal better than a broken neck.”

  …

  Alex stared dumbfounded as Wickham delivered the message that Lady Patience was not receiving. The butler looked uncomfortable, and Alex was sure he had never handled anything like this before.

  “Thank you. Please give these to her ladyship.” He held out the bouquet of flowers.

  The man took the flowers and bowed. With nothing else to be done, Alex hurried down the stairs and stopped, unsure what to do with himself. He’d planned on spending time with Patience, maybe even taking her for a ride.

  Well, it appeared her little pique at him was more than little. She was angry. Truth be known, she had every right to be. He had made it sound as though he wanted to marry her to save himself time and effort. He winced just thinking about it.

  He had some serious making up to do. He wanted Patience, even if he didn’t deserve her. Now that she had denied him, and refused to see him, it had become a challenge. And he never backed away from a challenge.

  Chapter Ten

  “My lady, I must say that gown looks lovely on you. The color flatters your complexion so well,” Polly chattered on, as she put the finishing touches on Patience’s hair by stringing pearls through the mass of curls she’d spent the last half hour fixing.

  “Thank you, Polly.” She turned from the mirror. “I think I will wear that new India shawl with the gold thread tonight.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Polly moved to the chest at the foot of Patience’s bed and withdrew the garment. “I will give this a fast pressing.” She hurried from the room, leaving Patience alone with her thoughts.

  After hearing her mother’s story, she had been forced to look at this entire situation in a different way. Poor Mother. She had suffered so much over the years. Losing her true love, then the child created in that love.

  She would have had a brother or sister had the babe survived.

  When she’d asked her mother what she would do if she were given the chance to do it all again, she answered with no hesitation that she would have accepted the duke’s suggestion and run away together before his betrothal was announced.

  Mother seemed so certain that would have been the right thing to do, she didn’t mention if she’d done so, Patience would never have been born. Or, she would have been Alex’s sister. Or, not, since the duke had two sons, and no daughters. The confusion finally gave her a headache that caused her to lie down with a lavender cloth on her head.

  Would she allow history to repeat itself and refuse Alex’s proposal, trouncing on the young love they’d once shared? Perhaps it could be restored, if he was willing to actually woo her and not assume she would agree to marriage to save him trouble.

  Once Polly returned with her shawl, she headed downstairs to meet her parents. Father had informed her earlier in the day that they were meeting Alex and his mother at the theater, and she would attend, with no excuses.

  She felt ready to face Alex, and ascertain if his attempt to see her the day before, with the bouquet of flowers, had been his way of apology. If so, she would put her anger aside, but at the same time, not allow any more bullying.

  Her father spent the entire carriage ride glaring at her, and the aroma wafting from him gave testimony to the fact that he’d spent time with the brandy bottle before they’d left. She sighed and studied her hands resting in her lap.

  The coach came to a rolling stop and the door opened. Father stepped out and turned to assist Mother, and then her. They made their way into the theater just as Alex and the duchess alighted from their carriage.

  As they approached, Alex turned toward her and gave her a slight—if hesitant—smile. For one instant he was Alex, her first—and only—love. His eyes bore into hers and that crooked smile she loved so much grew into an all-out grin. She smiled back, and for a moment her world righted itself.

  He extended his arm toward her, his eyebrows raised in question. She took his arm and they climbed the steps to the lobby. Unfortunately, it was to be her last moment of peace for the evening. Immediately, a bevy of women surrounded Alex, everyone from matrons smiling seductively, to marriage-minded mamas, and their anxious, eyelid-batting, blushing daughters, practically fell at his feet. He was polite to everyone, but she was sure he was not pleased by all the attention.

 
They made their way to the Bedford box and were joined by Alex’s three friends, Lord Campbell, Lord Hawkins, and Mr. Templeton. He introduced the men to her, and the rest of the family.

  “Had I known Bedford was hiding such a beauty, I would have demanded an introduction.” Lord Campbell, who Alex said was called “Cam,” bent over her hand. “Why are you hiding her, Bedford?”

  Alex took her hand from Cam’s and tucked it into his arm, his eyes snapping. “I am not hiding her. Lady Patience is right here, is she not?”

  All three men burst out laughing. “Be careful, Your Grace. We all appreciate beauty, and we may very well steal her right out from under you.” Lord Hawkins—or as Alex called him, “Hawk” slapped Alex on the back.

  “Now that we have seen this lovely woman, we may decide to call upon her.” Mr. Templeton gave her a slight bow. “Would you be so kind as to receive us, my lady?”

  She smiled and offered a curtsy. “Of course, Mr. Templeton.”

  Patience studied the four men as they joked with each other. All were tall, broad shouldered, and handsome, each in his own way. While Hawk had raven-black hair and a devilish smile, Cam sported blond locks and a brilliant smile she was sure brought the vapors to many a young lady. Mr. Templeton’s straight light brown hair fell on his forehead that he brushed back to no avail. She could imagine the commotion and near swooning whenever the four of them entered a ballroom together.

  No doubt all that power, wealth, and handsomeness would command the room and set many hearts to fluttering. However, the only one who had her heart fluttering kept stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb as they spoke, distracting her from the conversation.

  With the ease they exchanged insults and jokes, it was apparent the four men were good friends. It pleased her to know Alex had these friends. With his military service keeping him away from England for so long, she was unaware he had maintained such camaraderie.

  They all settled into their seats just as the curtain on the stage rose. Cam sat next to her and leaned in to speak into her ear. Before he could say a word, Alex glowered at him and gestured toward the stage. “Behave yourself.”