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Once Upon a Devilish Duke

Page 13

by Cassandra Samuels

The last time she had been there was for her coming out. Her father had taken ill, and she had decided it would not be worth continuing the season, and so they had traveled home. At that time, she had not realized that it would be years before she would return. She did not regret her decision, however. These last few years of nursing her father had been bittersweet.

They had always gotten along, and their time together brought them closer. Her father was a generous man in so many ways. He cared about people and gave back where he could, and the people who lived within Brookhaven’s boundaries had benefited from his kind and generous nature. How different things would be for them now, under Cecil. Her brother was a man who cared only for himself and how he might benefit from his estate. Another reason she could not remain there. How could she stand by and watch him destroy everything their family had built for centuries? They had forged a bond with the people who supplied Brookhaven with its very livelihood. That unspoken understanding was now in jeopardy. It was sad, so sad, and there was nothing she could do about it.

*

Sasha, Marianne’s dog, barked, and when they all looked out the window, it was to see Warrington House come into view. Rose closed her mouth. The house was huge by London standards, with lots of large windows facing the road. The limestone was weathered with age, giving it an even more majestic look. The servants were out on the steps before the carriage had even stopped.

“Finally,” Marianne said, trying to calm her excited dog. “Sasha is just about to jump out of the window.”

The dowager gathered her shawl around her. “Like Sasha, I too am anxious to be out of this carriage. Every time I make this trip, I forget how long it takes. My back is aching from the terrible bed last night. We will not be staying there again, I can guarantee it.”

Rose watched as the staff of Warrington House efficiently took their places. Then she saw a tall, dark-clad figure standing in the doorway.

The duke.

He was handsomer than she had remembered. He had been a gangly youth when she had last seen him. Now he was a man whose deep-blue eyes took in the scene before him with a bored expression. No smiles for his mother and sister? She watched as the dowager alighted and made the steps. He bowed to her and kissed her hand. While he was in that position, his mother whispered something in his ear that made his brows rise. Marianne was next, letting Sasha down onto the step before turning towards the carriage.

Rose took the footman’s gloved hand and stepped down from the carriage, and when she looked up, Marianne was smiling, and the duke was studying her with an intensity that made her step falter. She made a curtsy in front of him, and when she rose and met his eyes, her heart stopped. Good Lord, those eyes! It was as if he could see into her very soul. It was unnerving, to say the least, and then…he spoke.

“Lady Rose, I welcome you to Warrington House. Please make yourself at home while you are my guest.”

His voice was deep and smooth, like butter melting on one’s tongue. She tried not to make eye contact with him and had to take a breath before speaking. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

He extended his hand to her, and she took it, surprised by the strength of his grip. “You have grown up,” he said.

“So have you,” she replied. “You are very tall.”

“I have been called many things, but tall is not usually the descriptor they use.” He smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes. There was sadness in their depths. “I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

“Thank you.”

“You need not fear your brother; he will not come close to you while under my roof. You are in your majority, yes?”

“Yes, I have just turned three and twenty last week. I do not need his permission to marry, and I have a dowry of my own that my father put in place. Unfortunately, he knew what his son was like. I also have a small allowance, so I will not be a burden to you for the time I am here.”

“Your father was a good man. It is a shame his son did not take after him. You seem to be very much like your father, though.”

A compliment? They had made it to the parlor now, so she handed the footman her bonnet, which she had been crushing in her grip.

“If there is anything you require, please let me know.” With that, he bowed and left. She watched him, noticing how his steps were always so measured and sure. How perfectly his jacket hugged his broad shoulders. She gave a little sigh of relief and went to join the ladies.

That night at dinner, the dowager dominated the conversation with plans for shopping. The duke calmly ate his dinner and rarely contributed, Rose noticed. He had really changed from the young man she knew. That man would never have abandoned their child. This man? It was too early to really tell, but she was determined to find out exactly who he was now. Her thoughts kept comparing him to the young man she had known before. He was certainly more handsome now, and he had an air of power that he held tightly intact. She supposed that becoming a duke at a fairly young age had conditioned him.

“Rose?” Marianne asked, and Rose looked up from her teacup.

She shook her head as if to clear Edward from her mind. “Sorry, I was off with the fairies.”

“Is everything all right?” Concern was clear in her eyes.

“Yes. Of course.”

Marianne sat on the sofa next to her. “My brother didn’t say something that upset you?”

She shook her head. “He is every inch a gentleman.”

“Yes, he plays that part well, doesn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”