The Temptation of the Duke (Regency Romance) Read online

  “Why do you say used to?” Miss Belinda asked, her blue eyes blinking as if she were a curious fawn.

  “I beg your pardon?” Heat rushed to Grace’s cheeks.

  “You said ‘used to listen in.’ I only wonder why you stopped.”

  “Have they stopped having their meetings?” Miss Chatsworth inquired, blessedly.

  “Yes!” Grace seized the opportunity. “Yes, they’ve stopped altogether. I suppose they’d all learned what they needed to learn, and so, no need for anymore of those types of meetings. Exactly it.”

  Lady Sophie’s eyes were alight with curiosity. “What kinds of things did they talk about?”

  “Oh, heavens!” Grace exclaimed. “I can’t talk about that here.”

  “Just a little something. Please.” Lorinda’s massive coiffure bobbed back and forth with the motion of her head. “Go on.”

  “Ladies, I do think I ought to excuse myself.” All eyes turned to Lady Alicia as she rose from the table. “I spotted my cousin over there, and I really ought to go and say hello.”

  “Yes, of course!” everyone said at once, but as soon as Lady Alicia had gone, all five of them huddled toward the middle of the table.

  “I thought for certain I’d get her to admit to her affair,” Lorinda said, highly disappointed that she’d not succeeded in her plan.

  “It’s not as if she needs to admit it.” Miss Chatsworth tskd her disapproval. “Everyone knows it already.”

  “Yes, but I wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, didn’t you?” Lorinda glanced up and her eyes lit with excitement. “Oh, look! There’s Cassandra! She can tell us all about Lady Alicia and her footman.”

  Grace’s heartbeat sped to a gallop. Cassandra was here. She would know things about the affair that might prove useful.

  No. Stop it, Grace. You’ve done enough meddling, and look what trouble it got you into.

  Lorinda waved her cousin over and made certain she was acquainted with everyone before pouncing on her with questions about Lady Alicia. As Cassandra launched into the details as she knew them, Grace looked up to find the object of their discussion watching them with narrowed eyes. Blast. She knew they were talking about her. It made Grace uncomfortable, especially the more embroiled she became in the story. Deep down she knew she was doing the wrong thing. Gossip was the work of the devil, or so the vicar—and Chloe—said, and even worse, she was longing for the duke to commit adultery with her.

  But was it really so wrong, when adultery was already being committed?

  Oh, heavens. Grace never imagined she’d find herself in such a moral dilemma so soon into the Season.

  “My maid tells me the most delicious stories about them,” Cassandra was saying. “Apparently, they have a standing rendezvous in the mews, early on Sunday mornings. Roger claims he’s going to church, but really he goes to the mews to ravish Lady Alicia in the hay.”

  “You’re not serious!” Lady Sophie exclaimed.

  “How early?” Grace asked without thinking.

  “Early enough that no one suspects they’re even gone. Seven in the morning, perhaps?”

  Seven in the morning. How could she get Evan to show up at Cassandra’s mews at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning?

  She shook her head. She ought to put it from her mind and focus on one of the actual eligible gentlemen, of which there were plenty this Season. She wouldn’t meddle anymore. Ever. It only made Evan angry and it tore up her heart. How could she even entertain such an idea after all she’d been through just last night?

  No, she would take the high road, and for once try to be upstanding like her sister.

  She stood abruptly and all eyes followed her. “I must excuse myself, ladies,” she said, and then without further explanation, fled the table of gossipmongers.

  Nine

  Several days passed, in which Grace did her best to avoid anything and everything that might possibly have to do with or include the company of anyone who was in anyway connected with the Duke of Somerset. She was quite proud she had succeeded in doing so, too. He’d not been at a single soiree, nor had he come out to the garden or even darkened the windows that faced her sister’s home. Of course, Grace hadn’t done any of those things either, so perhaps he had, but how would she have known? Either way, the point being, she had successfully avoided seeing him and mostly avoided thinking of him too.

  Tonight, however, was a big to-do and according to Lorinda, everyone would be there at the Rollesbrook Ball. Blast it all. Although, if everyone was there, it might be easy enough to avoid bumping into His Grace. At least she hoped. She wasn’t certain her heart could withstand seeing him with Lady Alicia on his arm.

  But while the sun was still shining, Grace decided she’d take herself on a walk through Hyde Park. A stroll down Rotten Row seemed just the thing on this perfect spring day, and perhaps she’d run into a friend or two. Or an eligible gentleman. Best of all, she was certain the Duke of Somerset was not the kind to go strolling Rotten Row during the fashionable hour, so it was a safe pastime in which to engage.

  She and Suzie set off, walking at a brisk pace, until they reached the park, at which point Grace popped open her parasol and slowed her pace so the breeze might catch her dress just so and accentuate her slight curves. Ah, it was a perfect day. Everything was so green and lovely. All the passersby had bright smiles upon their faces. Even the ducks seemed to be grinning as they waddled past.

  Grace walked on, nodding here and there in greeting. She didn’t see anyone she knew, but that was all right. She was enjoying her time just as well.

  “Isn’t that the duke’s sister?”

  Her maid had stopped in the middle of the row and was pointing across the way to a grassy patch not far from the water. A woman sat there against a tree, her knees drawn to her chest and her body positively wracked with sobs. Good heavens. It was Evan’s sister. Grace would know that chocolate brown hair anywhere.

  However, she wasn’t too keen on embroiling herself in whatever conundrum Lady Beeston had found herself in, so she grabbed Suzie by the wrist, and said, “Let’s push on, shall we?”

  But blasted Suzie pulled back. “Aren’t you going to make sure she’s all right?”

  Grace took a deep breath and considered scolding her maid for insubordination. “If it were me, I wouldn’t want to be bothered,” she said instead, opting to give Suzie a second chance.

  “But she’s not you,” Suzie replied, her hazel eyes so innocent and beseeching. “You really ought to see if there’s anything you can do.”

  Why did her maid have to be so morally upstanding? Didn’t she know what Grace was going through?

  “Fine,” she finally bit out, unable to see any way out of this situation. “I shall go and make sure she’s all right. You wait here.”

  She stomped off toward Lady Beeston, but softened her tread as she approached the woman. When she was close enough, she leaned down and placed a hand upon her shoulder. Lady Beeston reared back, startled, and then began swiping furiously at her eyes and cheeks when she recognized Grace.

  “Oh, Miss Clarke,” she exclaimed, her voice thick from all the crying. “I didn’t even hear you approach.”

  Grace offered a weak smile. “That’s not terribly surprising. You seem…rather distraught, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  Lady Beeston gave a little laugh and started to get to her feet.

  “No, please,” Grace said. “I will come to you.” And then she sat down next to the duke’s sister.

  “I must look a fright.”

  “I’m certain I’ve looked worse,” Grace replied, recalling her red, puffy eyes of the other day. “Would you care to share your burden, my lady?”

  “Hannah,” she said quickly. “Please call me Hannah.”

  “You may call me Grace.”

  Hannah nodded and then turned her gaze toward the Serpentine. “I don’t want to bore you, Grace,” she began. “My woes are rather mundane, to be quite honest. I’m s
ure plenty of women have a far worse go of it than I do.”

  “It still might help to get it out in the open,” Grace prodded. She truly didn’t care to get involved in a family melodrama, but curiosity had started to niggle its way into her heart.

  She shifted so that she was looking directly at Grace, her green eyes intent. “Do I have your confidence?”

  Grace gulped. She wasn’t terribly good at secrets, but she wasn’t about to tell Hannah that. “Of course you do!”

  Hannah took a deep breath, and then let it all out in a whoosh. “All right. Here goes.” She gathered her bottom lip in her teeth and then let it go, a worried look in her eyes. “I’ve told a grand lie to my mother and brother and…husband.”

  A grand lie! Grace clasped Hannah’s hands in hers. “Go on. I’m sure it can’t be all that bad,” she encouraged.

  “Oh, but it can…I’ve told them all that…that…I’m with child.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment. Grace blinked. “But…you’re not?”

  Hannah shook her dark head back and forth as tears sprang to her eyes once again. “I thought it would make things better. I thought Beeston would like me more if I was carrying his heir. I thought Mother would be nicer to me, or at least not so critical of every little thing I do. The only person who’s reacted as I had hoped is my brother, though I know he hates Beeston with all his being.”

  “Well, that much is true.”

  Hannah reared back. “He’s said as much to you?”

  “Oh, erm…” Blast. She probably shouldn’t be divulging she and the duke had shared very personal information with one another. How would that look if it were to get back around to Lady Alicia? “No, not really,” she said, thinking up a lie. “I saw him at a party recently, glowering at Beeston. I just assumed.”

  “He could at least be discreet about it.” Hannah gathered her skirts in her hands and played absently with the fabric. “The truth is, no one likes Beeston.” She snorted. “Not even me!” Now she was laughing rather hysterically. “He’s a bloody prig!”

  Grace couldn’t help but be amused at the woman’s hilarity.

  “But what choice do I have?” she pressed on, her voice high-pitched and full of emotion. “’Till death do we part.” There was a moment of silence. Grace had no idea what to say, so she just waited for Hannah to continue. “I keep trying to think of ways to make him like me. To make him want to be with me, or at least be a little glad to have me as a wife. But I know about him. I know what he’s doing when he’s not at home.”

  “Oh?” Grace’s heart pounded at the impending wave of gossip.

  Hannah cast her a sidelong glance and laughed quietly. “He has been completely unfaithful to me, to put it nicely. I know it’s not so unusual—it’s not as if he married me because he loved, or even because he liked me. But I had hoped he would at least be loyal to me, even if not terribly kind. Or the other way around. Kindess in exchange for loyalty. But I’ve gotten neither.”

  She should keep her mouth shut. It was in her best interest, but her lips had started to twitch with the need to tell Hannah what she knew. “Your brother wishes he had been here to protect you from the match,” she blurted out.

  Hannah stared at her. “Well, of course he does,” she replied. “He hates Beeston. Haven’t we been through this?”

  “It’s more than that, though.” Grace pinched her arm where Hannah couldn’t see in an effort to make herself stop talking. But she couldn’t, regardless of how much her own bloody pinches hurt. “He feels terribly guilty about it. About you, about Lady Alicia. He’s letting the guilt dictate his life, but what he doesn’t see is that…”

  Her companion nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”

  “He’s bound to repeat the very mistake he wishes he had saved you from.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Grace looked around to make sure they were truly alone, and then returned her focus to Hannah. “Lady Alicia is having an affair…with a footman.”

  Hannah gasped and clutched her hand to her heart. “We must warn Evan.”

  “That’s the thing,” Grace said. “He knows already. But he says he doesn’t care. He’s made a promise to marry her and that’s the end of it. He won’t hear another word about it.”

  “Just like Evan. Stubborn to his core.” Hannah narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with my brother, haven’t you?”

  “We seem to have a knack for taking garden walks at the same time,” Grace returned, hoping that would satisfy her new friend. “What will you do?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

  “About the baby?” Grace nodded. “I suppose I’ll make up some story about losing it. I can’t very well go on much longer. They’ll wonder why I’m not getting any bigger.”

  “I’m happy to be your alibi, should you need one.”

  Hannah smiled sweetly at her. “Thank you for stopping to check on me,” she said. “I feel much better now.”

  “Good.” Grace stood and then helped pull her friend to her feet as well. “Will you be at the Rollesbrook Ball this evening?”

  Hannah nodded. “I will.”

  “Then I shall see you there.”

  ~*~

  Evan had hoped that attending the Rollesbrook Ball would help divest him of the foul mood he’d been in for the last several days. On the contrary, it only made it worse. How was he supposed to dance and be merry after all that had transpired? He’d relived that blasted kiss about a thousand times in the last few days, all the while willing himself to stay far, far away from Grace Clarke. On many occasions he’d walked absentmindedly to the side of the house that bordered with the Wetherby’s home, only to arrive there with a jolt of realization, turn on his heel and briskly return to the safe side of the house. He shuttered up his study windows so he wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of her should she happen to be taking a stroll through the garden. And he’d given up cheroots all together. He wouldn’t want to risk another late night rendezvous all for a bloody smoke.

  But Grace wasn’t the only woman he was avoiding these days. No, he had quite the list going. His mother, though that was nothing new. And, of course, Lady Alicia. She’d been coming to the house daily to meet with the duchess and go over wedding plans, which probably equated more to making sure he didn’t run off to Paris again rather than plotting the menu for the breakfast. So, Evan had been spending quite a lot of time at the club, drinking, meeting with old friends, and giving a great deal of thanks he had somewhere to go that was completely devoid of the female species.

  “Where in the world is Lady Alicia tonight?” his mother asked from beside him. “She ought to have been here by now. And when she does arrive, you’ll dance with her straightaway.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said on a grand sigh. He could feel her beady eyes on him. No, not just on him—burning a hole into the side of his head. “What?”

  “Am I so exasperating?”

  “Even more so.” He didn’t dare look at her.

  “I dictate because I care,” she said, her tone clipped and defensive. He’d never known his mother to be defensive.

  Still, her last statement made him guffaw rather louder than he’d meant to. “Care about what?”

  “Our reputation, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Reputation is everything, Somerset. You ought to know that by now. Of course, all that time in Paris probably—”

  “Addled my brain?”

  “Precisely,” she returned without missing a beat.

  “Well, I rather liked my time in Paris, and if it addled my brain, so be it.” Evan shrugged, careful to remain nonchalant, despite the fact his mother was setting his every nerve on edge. His devil-may-care attitude was the only thing that might drive her closer and closer to madness. And maybe off a cliff one day, if he was lucky. Pity there weren’t any in London—he’d have to endure a carriage ride all the way to Dover with her.

  “You’re inc
orrigible,” she muttered. “Just like your father.”

  Evan smiled. He had liked his father quite a lot, actually. “Well, if Lady Alicia isn’t going to be here, there’s no reason for me to be,” he said, eager to change the subject and just as eager to get out of there. “I might as well go home.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. Go to the card room if you must, but it’s too soon to leave.”

  Damn. When would he be allowed to run his own life? When he was forty? Fifty? Would he ever again enjoy the freedoms he’d known in Paris? Or would his life forever be dictated by some woman or another?

  All of a sudden he longed for Grace’s company. Well, perhaps not all of a sudden. He’d been longing for her company every since he’d met her, really. She spoke to him as an equal, as if they were friends having a meaningful discussion. She didn’t order him about, nor did she attempt to manipulate him. She was just…there.

  Evan sucked in a breath at the sight of her coming through the ballroom doors. She was especially turned out this evening in a shimmering gown of cream silk. Every ruffle was lined with lace that looked as if it had been dipped in liquid silver. Her honey-colored hair sat loosely upon her head, with tendrils cascading down to graze her delicate shoulders.

  Damn it all, his pants were becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

  “Oh, there’s that neighbor girl,” the duchess said from beside him, her tone filled with derision. Evan hadn’t even realized she was still there. “I know she’s loosely related to the Wetherby family, but heavens…how has she been included in all the exclusive parties?”

  “Does it bother you so much?” Evan asked, knowing full well that it did.

  “Well, just look at her.” His mother stood up straighter and shoved her nose in the air, so that she might more easily look down it. “You can absolutely tell she doesn’t belong here.”

  “Can you, now?”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Somerset,” she bit out. “We all know from whence she came.”