The Dark Duke Page 17
He was thinking only of Hester. Elliot would surely make her life miserable if he married her.
“I believe I saw Lord Elliot wandering into the shrubbery,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord”, Hester replied before hurrying away.
She went as quickly as she could to the shrubbery, wondering in which direction Lord Elliot might have gone, and angry that he had chosen this particular time to take the evening air. He must have known it was almost time for the supper to be served.
Sighing, Hester entered the dark, scented garden and had gone but a few paces when she heard a noise that made her halt.
It was two voices whispering, a man’s and a woman’s. Upset, Hester took a few paces forward, then remembered that she had just left the duke and it would be impossible for him to have passed her and be inside the shrubbery. Therefore, the deep voice she could hear had to be Lord Elliot’s, and he had somehow found a willing companion for his jaunt in the garden.
Which would, perhaps, explain how he had come to forget the supper.
Determined to remind him, she went on and turned a corner—coming to an abrupt stop when she saw that Lord Elliot and his female companion were not simply talking, although she could discern the incredibly lewd words of direction whispered in Miss Smith’s high voice.
And right in the shrubbery, too! With all the guests in the hall!
Hester spun on her heel and marched back to the hall, to find the duke still standing where she had left him. She regarded him steadily, her face blazing with a blush as if she had been the one in Lord Elliot’s arms, while she tried to read the duke’s expression. Had he known what she would find? Had he sent her there on purpose?
Or was this just another attempt to amuse himself at her expense?
“Supper will be somewhat delayed” she muttered as she passed him.
She did not hear Adrian sigh.
The upper hall was quiet and still. The guests had departed, the duchess retired, and Lord Elliot had gone to his room. Mabel had helped Hester out of her clothes, put the gown away, taken down her hair and then been dismissed, after offering the valuable information that the duke had told his valet he would not be needed later. Below stairs, the hushed voices of the servants indicated that they were still clearing away the remains of the supper, guided by the duke’s deeply voiced instructions.
Hester sat at her vanity and stared unseeing at her mirror.
Why had the duke sent her to the shrubbery? She had been trying to answer that question ever since she had seen Lord Elliot.
Was it because he wanted her to know what kind of man Lord Elliot was? He had already warned her, did he think she would not take his word for it, and so had given her proof?
Did he deem her that blind? Or that easily flattered by a gentleman’s attention that she would not realize how bored Lord Elliot was in her presence, try as he might to act otherwise? That she did not see that however suave and charming he was, Lord Elliot was no true gentleman? That his half brother was vain and arrogant in a way the duke could never be?
There was one other explanation: that the duke cared deeply for her and didn’t want her to be taken in by Elliot’s apparent charm. But she must not dare to think it….
But she would dare! she thought with sudden determination. Tonight she would dare to think herself worthy of the duke’s love. She would remember how it had felt when he had kissed her, the look in his eyes when they stood together on the road and he told her what he saw when he looked at her. She would remember how his presence alone excited her, and his touch thrilled her. She would dare to believe that what she saw in his eyes was regard, respect, even love. She would even dare to voice her feelings aloud. “I love you, Adrian Fitzwalter,” she whispered to her reflection. “I love you!”
She rose and began to pace. She was leaving here, if not tomorrow, then as soon afterward as could be arranged. The duke would probably go into town tomorrow. After tonight, she might never see him again.
She paused and looked at her reflection again. “How much do you dare?” she whispered intently.
Before she had time to think of a response, she heard the duke’s familiar footsteps pass her bedroom door.
She had been good and modest and dutiful all her life, and to what end? Ignored, forgotten, treated like a servant or a secretary when she was remembered at all.
For once, just this once…
Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, she went to the door, tiptoed into the hall and moved toward the duke’s bedroom, which she entered without knocking before she lost her resolve, then closed the door softly behind her.
The duke, who had not heard her enter, stood by the window, looking out at the clear, crisp night illuminated by a full moon. She almost weakened, until she realized how lonely he looked, as if he was looking outside hoping to see…what? A companion? A lover? A wife?
“My lord?” she whispered.
He whirled around and stared at her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded in a hushed voice.
“I must speak with you,” she replied, going closer.
“This is neither the time nor the place for any kind of discussion,” he said sternly.
“Yes, it is, because tomorrow I intend to inform the duchess that I am going to my sister’s home as soon as possible. There may never be another time.”
“You are leaving?” He seemed about to take a step toward her, but he hesitated.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Why?”
“Because I cannot be happy here.”
“I see.” She thought he stifled a sigh as he went toward a lamp and struck a match. The flame flared briefly, the sudden illumination catching the planes of his cheeks, creating dark, mysterious shadows around his hidden eyes. “Perhaps that is just as well.”
When the lamp was lit, he gestured for her to sit on a chair in the far corner, away from the light and the bed, but she did not “What is it that you must speak to me about so urgently, Lady Hester?”
“I want to know why you sent me to the shrubbery,” she said. “I do not believe you were quite unaware of where your brother had gone, or with whom.”
“My God, am I that transparent to you?” he asked, turning away.
“You told me where to go, and I think there is little that takes place here that escapes you. Tell me, were you hoping to shock me?”
He faced her, but he did not meet her steadfast gaze. “Not exactly,” he replied.
“Then what? Why send me to spy on them?”
The duke did not respond.
“Is it that you thought I needed to see what kind of man Lord Elliot is?”
“Yes,” he muttered, and still he would not look at her.
“Why?” she demanded, her heart thudding rapidly.
“Because I thought you should”.
“I trusted you when you asked me to. And I am not so naive as you seem to think. It has been evident to me for some time that he is not a gentleman.”
“Neither am I, and yet you trusted me.”
“Why do you say you are not a gentleman? I have seen no evidence of impropriety on your part.”
“Except for that day in the library.”
“I surprised you. My lord, I believe you to be an honorable man, despite what others say, and I will continue to believe you are not the scoundrel people say you are until you give me evidence to the contrary.”
He finally raised his eyes and looked at her, his expression at once defeated and stern. “You do not know me. You do not know what I have done. Besides, why should it matter to you if the Dark Duke is a scoundrel or not?”
Hester twisted the tie of her robe around her hand. “Because I care about you,” she whispered, wishing she could see his face better. “And I think you care about me.”
“Are you telling me you can care about a man who has been with whores?” he asked with a trace of defiance. “Who has been drunk several times, in several public places? Who gambles when t
he mood suits?”
“Thus far, you sound like many young men of your station.”
“Oh, but I am worse, Hester, I am worse.”
“I don’t believe it. I can’t.”
His mouth twisted into a mocking, sardonic smile. “Then, my dear young woman, your judgment leaves much to be desired. Have you heard how I began my illustrious career at Oxford?”
“I know a little of your history,” she confessed.
He went to a small table and poured himself a drink, then picked up his glass and swirled the contents, glancing at her. “To enable you to make a proper judgment, I see I shall have to give you all the evidence. Please, sit. This may take some time.”
Hester obediently sat in the chair he had indicated, while the duke downed his drink in a gulp. He started to pace restlessly, and ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I had a good friend, an earl from Wales, named Griffin Branwynne,” he began without so much as a glance at her, “who got himself involved with a young lady of somewhat dubious repute, although neither of us knew that at the time. However, certain others amongst our acquaintance did, and one night, at a tavern, they enlightened us. Griffin, despite what you might have heard of the Welsh temperament, possessed a cooler head than I, and was all for letting the matter rest until he could speak to the lady.
“I, however,” the duke said, his voice growing bitterly sarcastic, “I, the noble Duke of Barroughby, thought that we had to champion the lady’s honor. I called the informant a blackguard and a scoundrel. He reciprocated in kind. Both of us were quite drunk, I might add, and prepared to resort to fisticuffs. Griffin tried to stop us, but we wouldn’t listen.
“We didn’t even have the decency or intelligence to take our quarrel outside.” For the first time since he began to speak, pain flashed across the duke’s stem face. “I knocked over a lamp. I heard it fall, but I paid no attention. I was far too intent on beating my opponent to a bloody pulp. By the time I realized the place was on fire, it was too late. Nothing could be done to put it out. I staggered outside, leaving my opponent behind. I was so drunk, I thought it would serve the knave right to die in the flames.”
Adrian’s voice lowered, and his words came more slowly. “When I heard somebody shouting that the other gentleman was still inside, I was actually quite pleased with myself, until the notion that the other gentleman might be Griffin finally penetrated my sodden brain. Then I became frantic and even more useless.” He took a deep breath, but he regarded her steadily. “In fact, by this time, I was hysterical. Nobody would let me near the building. I was too drunk and too upset. I would have gotten myself killed. I offered extravagant rewards to anybody who would go in after him. Nobody was foolish enough to take me up on it.
“And then part of the roof caved in.” Hester could hear the sense of helplessness and hopeless anguish in the duke’s voice. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was sure my friend was dead.” He paused, then resumed, his voice growing stronger. “Thank God for the tavern keeper. He heard about Griffin and before I knew what was happening, he threw a wet burlap sack over his head and plunged into the building. He found Griffin and dragged him out. A tavern keeper saved his life, not me.”
“Is that why you never visit him?” Hester asked softly. “Because you are ashamed?”
The duke gave her a tortured look. “Have you ever seen anybody badly burned, Lady Hester?”
She shook her head wordlessly.
“It is very painful, and the scars…” He had no need to finish, for the torment in his eyes told her how terrible it must have been. “When he finally awoke, Griffin wouldn’t speak to me. He wouldn’t let me in his room. He still won’t see me. I’ve tried. He went to his estate in Wales and lets nobody come near him.”
“Surely that is his decision,” Hester said, feeling helpless, but trying to say something of comfort.
The duke ground his fists into his palm. “You didn’t know him, or the promise in him. He was going to be a great man, Hester. A great leader. I took that away from him. I might just as well have killed him.”
“It was an accident.”
“Oh, but you don’t yet know all, my angel,” he continued bitterly, looking at her coldly. “I didn’t kill Griffin, and I didn’t hurt myself. But my stupidity killed my father just as surely as if I had shot him with my pistol.”
“How…?”
“He had high hopes for me, my father, and although it is vain of me to say it, not without some justification. I was an excellent scholar, personable, well liked. I was a bit wild, but nothing terrible. Nothing that age and wisdom wouldn’t have cured, or so he believed.
“Then the news of my foolishness reached him, and it was a bitter blow. My rash act caused his fatal attack. By the time I reached him, he was dying.
“I was a great disappointment to him, and that disappointment killed him.”
Tears welled again in Hester’s eyes to see his sorrow, to know that he was living that terrible time again by telling her.
“Now I think you had better leave my room,” he said softly. “You might be discovered here, and while another scandal would be nothing new to me, it would mean trouble for you.”
He was quite right, of course, but she was not yet ready to leave. “What you did was foolish, but that was long ago, and you have been sorry for it ever since. Even now I cannot believe that you are guilty of all the things you are rumored to be.” A sudden moment of illumination came to her as she recalled the struggle in his eyes before he sent her to find Elliot. “It’s Elliot, isn’t it? He’s the one who does the terrible things—and you take the blame! Because you feel guilty about the fire?”
“You do not understand the relationship between my brother and myself,” the duke said, cold and distant once more.
“Yes, I do. Because you think it doesn’t matter what people say about you, you take all the blame for Elliot’s immorality!”
“What does it matter if I do?” the duke asked through clenched teeth as he returned to stare out the window. “I made a promise to my father on his deathbed. I promised that I would ensure that Elliot’s name was never tainted by disgrace.” His shoulders slumped wearily and his voice dropped until it was barely audible. “Like mine.”
There! At last! The key to that troubled relationship. And the flaw in the Duke of Barroughby. “You think that by protecting Lord Elliot from the consequences of his misdeeds, you are protecting him?”
“Of course,” he replied. “My name was already tarnished. It didn’t matter much to me if a little more scandal attached to it.” He faced her and tried to resume his sardonic manner. “Although I must say I didn’t know how low he would sink.”
“But don’t you see, my lord?” she demanded, standing. “By taking all the repercussions onto yourself, you are allowing him to be immoral! To continue on his wayward path! You are not truly helping him.”
The duke stared at her. “How certain you sound! Yet you’ve been here less than six months, you’ve known me only a few weeks, and Elliot even less.”
“I have eyes. I can see. I have a mind. I can understand.”
“No, you can’t!” He came close and glared at her. “You can’t know the guilt I’ve felt ever since that night at Oxford. You weren’t there to see how ashamed and upset my father was. All he had left to console him was the thought that Elliot was young and unblemished. My promise was the only thing I could give him to try to make it right. I’ve been trying to make it right ever since.”
“Why did you stay away from the hall all these days?” Hester asked quietly.
“What?”
“Didn’t you stay away because you believed Elliot was going to ask me to marry him? Didn’t you stay away because you didn’t want to interfere, even though you cared for me?”
“Hester, I—”
“Did you never stop to consider my feelings in all your plans and sacrifices?”
Adrian stared at Hester, aghast. “Yes, I did. That’s why I sent you
outside tonight. I was so fearful Elliot would make you miserable—”
“And you did not credit me with enough intelligence or discernment to realize that for myself?” He said nothing, too shocked to respond.
“How arrogant! How presumptuous! You do not offer protection—you give it whether it is wanted or not! I am not a child. I am capable of seeing beyond empty flattery. It is not for you to decide what is right for me.”
“I was only doing what I thought best,” he responded defensively.
“What you thought best!” She drew a deep breath, and her anger dissipated at the sight of his dismay. “You cannot control everyone, my lord,” she said in a quieter voice. “You cannot be responsible for everyone, nor can you continue to protect Lord Elliot It isn’t good for him, or you, or the other women he may seduce. He has to be held accountable. He has to be stopped. Your father didn’t know what he was going to become, or he would never have asked for such a promise.”
“It’s too late,” Adrian murmured. “I can’t change what’s happened. The world considers me a rogue and a scoundrel and always will, so why not use those prejudices?”
“Because they harm you, as well as your brother. Besides, the world can forget. Do you remember the scandals from five years ago?”
“Yes,” he replied scornfully. “I was involved in most of them.”
“You, or Lord Elliot?”
“Oh, what does it matter which one of us was truly involved?” he demanded angrily, stalking toward the window.
“It matters very much to me, my lord,” she replied softly.
“But it should not!” he charged, whirling around to face her again. “It must not! There can be no future for you with a man like me, no matter how much I want you!”
Neither of them moved. They scarcely breathed.
Happiness—pure, blinding in its completeness—filled Hester. He wanted her! He had said it! He meant it!
All her life she had dreamed of hearing those words from a man like him, a man who did not want her because of her family connection or who was, worse, a “suitable husband.” A man who desperately needed what she had to offer. A man who could have his choice of women, and who had chosen her.