The Temptation of the Duke (Regency Romance) Read online

  Evan gave a cynical laugh. “Oh, that I already know, Mother.” And then he kept speaking so she’d not get the last word. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have important matters to attend to.”

  He sent a wink to Hannah as he strode from the entry hall toward the back of the house where his study resided. He stepped inside and slammed the door behind him, eager to shut out his mother. If only he could shut her out completely.

  A stack of unopened letters sat on his desk. He ought to open them. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. A quick glance out the window told him it was going to rain soon anyway, so a walk through the garden probably wasn’t in order.

  He sighed as Grace’s lovely image popped into his head. What was she doing there? Why on earth did she take up so many of his thoughts? The way her pale yellow dress rested gracefully on her shoulders, or the look of pure stupefaction when he made mention of the garden.

  Evan couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of her flaming cheeks. No one else seemed to notice their covert looks, thankfully–they were all too busy trying to stay off the duchess’s warpath.

  After a moment, he shook the thoughts of Grace from his mind and rounded the desk. He plopped into the large leather chair and reached for his letter opener. Of course, as he did, he dared another glance outside.

  Was that a blonde head he’d just seen pass by on the other side of the wall?

  He craned his neck to try and see better, but if she had been there, she was out of his sight now. Damn.

  Evan turned back to the letters and slid the sharp opener easily through the paper. Ah. This one was from a friend in Paris. He started to read, but movement outside the window quickly drew his attention away. But there was nothing there again.

  Damn and blast! Frustrated, Evan threw the letter to the desk and stormed from the room all the way to the back doors that led to the terrace. Dark clouds that had been threatening to release their fury since early morning, loomed overhead, but he would not be deterred.

  He descended the stairs on quick feet and went directly to the right, toward the wall that separated the Wetherby garden from his own. It was bold of him to go straight to the bench he’d stood on yesterday when he caught Miss Clarke in that awkward position, but he had to see if she was out and about this afternoon or if he’d just been imagining things.

  As soon as he peered over the wall, he met with her shimmering green eyes. They both reared back at first, startled, and then dissolved into laughter.

  “Why, Miss Clarke, I didn’t expect to see you there!” he said once he could speak again.

  “Then why ever would you go to the trouble to look over my garden wall?”

  That was a fair question. “Well…I thought to have a look at those roses you and your sister spoke of over tea.” He made a great show of observing the roses. “Yes, they are prize winning indeed. They’d surely make my mother green with envy.”

  Grace smiled mischievously. “Perhaps I should cut a few stems and have them sent over to her?”

  Evan chuckled, impressed by her quick wit and cleverness. “Nothing would make me happier than to see her face were you to do such a thing.”

  They smiled at one another, and then Evan realized just how awkward it was with him standing on a bench and her standing amidst the rose bushes. “Miss Clarke, will you join me for a walk…without the wall between us?”

  “Oh.” Her mouth formed a perfect O shape, and made Evan’s stomach tighten with a twinge of desire. Damn. He ought not be lusting after this neighbor girl when he was set to marry Lady Alicia, but he couldn’t help it. He was a man, wasn’t he? And just because he found her attractive didn’t mean he had to act on it. And it certainly didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Besides, she was so very young, she was more like a sister. Yes, that was it. She was like a little sister to him.

  Of course, it occurred to him that he didn’t think lustful thoughts of his actual little sister, but he pushed them aside as he walked to the garden gate, where Miss Clarke awaited him.

  “There,” he said, stepping through the gate into the Wetherby’s garden. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed,” Miss Clarke replied, then she gestured to the path before them. “Shall we?”

  Evan offered his arm and they began their stroll. He tried desperately to ignore that surge of desire rushing through him with her hand wrapped around his elbow. It was so small and delicate. Damn, why didn’t he feel this way when Lady Alicia put her hand on his arm?

  “I apologize for my mother’s behavior this afternoon,” he said.

  “I must admit, we were a bit taken aback, especially having met you. Why, you’re so…nice.”

  “I don’t know if nice is quite the word, but I mind my own affairs. Something my mother doesn’t seem to know how to do.”

  “And your sister? She seems a most pleasant creature. I would very much like to get to know her better.”

  Something about that statement touched Evan. Bunny hadn’t uttered a single word over tea, yet Miss Clarke was eager to befriend her.

  “She has a great deal to say when Mother’s not around,” he said. “I’m certain you two would be fast friends.”

  They wound along the path at the back wall of the garden and then began heading in the direction of the house again. The path was lined with all manner of English flora, and not as manicured as his own garden. Rather, it looked more like a garden one might find in the country at a quaint little cottage, with primroses and violets peeking out from the overgrown foliage.

  “This is quite an unusual garden for the city,” he observed, hoping she wouldn’t take offense to the comment.

  On the contrary, a wide smile broke out on her pale pink lips. “Do you like it?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Chloe and I were raised in the country, poor farm girls, really. While we are exceedingly grateful for the modern amenities we enjoy now as part of the Wetherby family, we do still long for home once in a while. This garden makes us miss it less.”

  “Surely you visit your parents now and again?”

  “Oh, of course. But Lord Andrew arranged a new home for them when he and Chloe married. Our rundown cottage is a thing of the past.”

  “That was awfully generous of Lord Andrew,” Evan said. “How nice it must be to have such a close-knit family.”

  “Are you not close with your sister?”

  Evan nodded. “I am. In a way. A great deal has changed in the fifteen years I’ve been gone.”

  She blinked up at him, her green eyes wide with genuine curiosity as she asked, “Did you think it wouldn’t?”

  That was a good question. Had he really expected everything to be the same upon his return? Logically, no. He knew it couldn’t be. Yet, in his heart, perhaps he’d wished it to be so. Then maybe he wouldn’t have this horrific guilt weighing upon him all the bloody time.

  “I don’t know what I thought, Miss Clarke. All I know is that…I feel a terrible amount of guilt at the things that transpired while I was away.”

  “What things?” she asked, and then quickly added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  Evan smiled. “No, I don’t mind.” They took a few more steps, and he watched their feet absent-mindedly as they traveled side-by-side on the gravel path. “Let’s see…I feel guilty about not being here when my father passed away. I feel guilty about not being here when Mother promised my sister to such a bounder as Lord Beeston. And I feel guilty for making Lady Alicia wait so long for me.”

  It felt odd to speak of Lady Alicia to Miss Clarke, though he couldn’t really say why.

  Miss Clarke stopped on the path and turned to look at him, her hand slipping from his elbow to rest by her side. He missed her touch already. “Why do you take so much burden upon yourself?” she asked.

  “Because I believe things would have been different had I been here.”

  “Perhaps.” She shrugged her delicate, muslin-clad shoulders. “But there is no way of knowing tha
t for sure. When will you stop torturing yourself?”

  Evan gave a little chuckle. “Oh, I don’t know, Miss Clarke. When I die, perhaps.”

  She cocked her head sideways, causing her shimmering blonde curls to graze one shoulder. Her pale lashes fluttered before she fixed her emerald gaze on him so intently, he thought she might burn a hole right through his eyes. “Your Grace, that is no way to live one’s life. I insist you cease immediately with this self-flagellation.”

  “I wish it was so easy,” he replied, feeling both refreshed by her naïveté and also somewhat frustrated she thought it was so simple.

  “But it is.” She took his arm, sending that jolt through him again. “You simply have to make the decision.”

  “What decision?” He stopped again, even though they’d only taken a couple of steps, and forced her to look at him.

  For the first time, her eyes held a bit of trepidation, as if she worried she had over stepped her bounds. To tell the truth, she had. She didn’t even know him, yet here she was telling him with a single, simple thought he could stop the feelings of guilt that had choked him on a constant basis for years now.

  “Ah…um…never mind,” she said, shaking her head back and forth. She started to walk again, but Evan gently grabbed her hand. She wore no gloves, and her bare skin was soft and supple to the touch. He didn’t want to let go, but she pulled away first.

  “No, please. What decision?”

  Miss Clarke cleared her throat and looked away for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. “The decision to be happy.”

  The air was suddenly thick between them. “What makes you think I’m not happy?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I hardly know you. I just…it seems…it was a guess, and I’m probably all wrong, and it doesn’t even matter. Can we please forget about this?”

  The worst part of all this was that she wasn’t wrong at all. He wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been for a very long time. Life had been quite good in Paris until the day he got word of his father’s passing. From then on he’d suffered from a constant barrage of guilt, sadness, terror, and a slew of other emotions that nearly paralyzed him, until there was nothing left to do but come home and face his fears.

  He had hoped his reunion with Lady Alicia would have been what set him at ease. That they would have immediately fallen into an easy time with one another and looked forward to a pleasant future together. But their reunion had not gone as planned. He felt anything but ease in her presence. His sister put on a brave face, but she was perhaps the unhappiest of all creatures deep down. And Mother…good God, the woman was more wretched than he ever could have imagined a person could be.

  Evan fell into step beside the slightly flustered Miss Clarke. The silence was refreshing and not at all awkward. Well, not for him at least. She was clearly still uncomfortable. He should have been annoyed with her, really. Who was she to judge his level of happiness, anyhow? But truly, he found her bluntness novel, and a bit of a relief. Perhaps she understood him better than anyone else of his acquaintance. Perhaps she could be a good friend to him.

  “You’re right,” he finally said.

  She looked sideways at him. “About what?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Have you forgotten already?”

  Her round cheeks turned pink and she shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”

  “I don’t like being unhappy,” he admitted. “But I’m not certain how to remedy that. I suppose I feel a bit stuck.”

  “Stuck?”

  “I know. Hard to imagine someone of my status feeling such a way, isn’t it? But I’m far more stuck than, say, Lord Andrew. He’s free to choose the life he wishes to lead. He was free to marry whomever he wanted—”

  Miss Clarke gave an unladylike snort.

  “Am I missing something?” he asked.

  “My brother-in-law’s path to matrimony wasn’t as easy as you might think, Your Grace. But that’s a story for another day.”

  “Fair enough.” He glanced at Miss Clarke briefly, then faced forward again so as to not to trip on the rhododendron bush. “Before we proceed further, Miss Clarke, I must insist that you cease this Your Grace business immediately.”

  “Oh,” she said, as if the thought of calling him anything else had never occurred to her. “Then what shall I call you?”

  He held his breath. “Would Evan be too familiar?”

  She swallowed. “That is…rather familiar, but I suppose I could get used to it.” They walked two more paces and then, “I suppose you should call me Grace, then.”

  “It is such a lovely name,” he said. “It would be a shame not to use it.”

  “Well, it’s settled then, isn’t it? Oh, dear. Do you have the time?”

  Evan pulled his watch from his pocket. “Half past four,” he said.

  “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I must go, Your—I mean, Evan. I, erm, that is…”

  To be truthful, he wished they never had to leave the garden. “Well, go on then. I can see myself back to my side of the garden.”

  “Thank you,” she said, breathless and hurried. “Good day, then.”

  Evan gave a slight nod. “Good day.”

  Five

  Blast! Of all the handsome men in London, why did Grace have to live right next door to the most desirable of them all? And why on earth did he insist on being so familiar? Certainly she could have told him she wasn’t comfortable with such familiarity. It would have been the toward thing to do, after all, and he wouldn’t have thought anything of it. So, why did she agree to it?

  Evan. His name echoed in her head like a lovely song. It rolled off her tongue like silk over smooth skin. Would she ever be able to say it without sounding like the most smitten, lovesick kitten there ever was?

  None of this would be a problem, however, if he weren’t engaged to be married. But then why did he have to confide his unhappiness in her? Why was it necessary she know he wasn’t thrilled about his pending nuptials to Lady Alicia? It made her want to throw herself into his arms then and there. Or at the very least, flirt outrageously with him. Could she make him forget about Lady Alicia? Could she make him happy?

  “Why on earth are you so jittery this evening, Grace?”

  She looked up to find her sister staring at her with a wrinkle in her brow. The carriage bumped along the streets of Mayfair, headed for Grosvenor Square, where they were to attend a family dinner at Ashbury Manor, but Grace hardly even remembered climbing into the carriage in the first place.

  “Yes, why so jittery?” her three-year-old niece, Samantha, echoed in her sweet little voice.

  She gave Sam a half smile and then said, “Oh, I don’t know,” hoping Chloe would leave it at that.

  Of course, Chloe wouldn’t. She narrowed her eyes. “I know you better than that, Gracie. What is it?”

  Samantha leaned forward, her brow furrowed as if she held true concern for her aunt. “Yes, what is it?”

  Grace might have laughed if she weren’t so very distracted by her thoughts. She sucked in a deep breath and then let it all out on a sigh. “I find myself in a bit of a predicament,” she started, and then closed her eyes tightly for a brief moment, wishing she weren’t in said predicament. “Are you familiar with the saying, ‘the course of love never did run smooth’?”

  “Oh, dear,” Chloe said, shaking her head with obvious disappointment. The little parrot by her side mimicked her mother, but both women ignored her. “Please don’t tell me you’ve set your cap for a married man.”

  Grace scrunched her face up. Setting one’s cap for an engaged man was almost as bad as setting one’s cap for a married man. “Not exactly.”

  “Did you learn nothing from my situation?” Chloe sat forward and waved her hand emphatically, clearly not thrilled with her sister’s admission.

  “I learned that you got the man you wanted to marry. You overcame the challenges. You—”

  “Lied. And hurt a lot of people in the process.”

  �
�Would you have it any other way now?”

  Chloe sighed and leaned back again. “No. But that doesn’t mean you should follow in my footsteps. My situation was…different. And I didn’t have any control over what Andrew and Michael did or said.”

  “But it all worked out in the end.” Grace was desperate for her sister’s blessing, though she knew she’d never get it.

  Samantha’s eyes were darting back and forth from Chloe to Grace, clearly trying to work out in her three-year-old mind what they could possibly be talking about.

  “There are hundreds of eligible gentlemen in London this Season. Please don’t waste your time with someone who is already taken. What if he chooses the other woman, Grace? Even if he returned your affections, there is no guarantee he would act upon them by choosing you over her.” Chloe leaned forward again and reached across the aisle to take Grace’s hand. “I just don’t want to see you heartbroken.”

  Blast her sister and her valid arguments. “I suppose you’re right.” Grace slumped further into her seat.

  “You’ll wrinkle your dress,” Chloe pointed out.

  Grace sighed again, feeling a bit melancholy and dramatic. “What does it matter?”

  Her sister laughed, and Grace knew she deserved it. Still, she wished she could be at home, alone with her thoughts this evening. She really wasn’t in any mood to keep up with the usual Wetherby banter. Not that she had a choice, now the carriage was pulling up to Ashbury Manor.

  She alighted in the wake of Chloe and Samantha and followed them into the familiar home. Grace brightened a bit as she crossed the threshold. Perhaps it was good she came after all. Ashbury Manor, though large and imposing, always felt warm and inviting, especially when it was filled with family. It was the ducal townhome of the Duke and Duchess of Weston. The duchess, Katherine Hart, nee Wetherby, was the most revered hostess of the ton. Even their family dinners felt like grand affairs.

  Everyone would be in attendance, including Becky and Stephen, Viscount and Viscountess Hastings, as well as two of the three brothers Wetherby, their spouses and children.