The Duke and the Lass by Jessie Clever

Chapter 10

She didn’t know how long she would have to worry about her next encounter with one of the Darby sisters, and so she worried about that too.

Della would admit she had been somewhat relieved when Johanna appeared the morning after the great corset debacle with the seamstress from the village in tow, along with two patterned gowns that would be adequate to see Della to London where a modiste could have a new wardrobe made up.

While the gowns were a welcomed sight, Della had been more pleased to have the opportunity to make amends with her new sister-in-law, but Johanna only waved her apology off. Apparently, worse had occurred between Johanna and her sisters in their childhood, and it was nothing to sport a black eye now. In fact, according to Johanna, she found it intriguing and enjoyed conjuring stories to tell people of what had happened.

Siblings were strange beings, Della was coming to learn.

As for the new wardrobe, she didn’t see the reason for such expenditure when she was sure she could send for the rest of her clothing from her grandparents’ home, but Andrew said she needn’t bother. A new wardrobe was hardly a consideration.

This news had perplexed her as she continued to ponder over the state of the repaired furniture at Ravenwood Park. It seemed she wasn’t quite sure what to make of Ravenwood, both the estate and the man.

For she was certain no one had ever been made love to so thoroughly as Andrew made love to her, and yet outside of the ducal bedchamber, it was as though she didn’t exist.

It was hard for her to interpret his actions, and she knew she was prone to believe there was some fault with her. But how could…

Well, she turned pink when she thought of it. The things he did to her…to put it plainly, she hadn’t even heard of them in the novels she had read, and she had read a great many novels.

After the interlude in the library, he had escorted her directly back to bed, but instead of returning her to the duchess’s rooms, he’d ushered her into his own. She hadn’t realized the rooms were connected, and when she entered the ducal chamber, she had a difficult time keeping her eyes from straying to the connecting door.

Had he meant to keep her close all along, or was he simply placing her in the bedroom that her title required?

She just didn’t know, and her lack of experience was enough to send her stomach into a tumbling routine that would be the envy of any circus performer.

She’d slept in his arms that night. It was becoming quite a habit, and one she found utterly delightful. She’d fallen immediately to sleep with Andrew’s reassuring weight pressed to her back, and the next morning had felt more like herself than she had in days.

A good night’s rest coupled with a new, clean gown had her spirits restored when they set off for London until she discovered Andrew would not be riding in the carriage with her but had insisted on riding horseback out front. He claimed he wanted to be aware of their surroundings as they made their way south, should anyone be following them, but Della couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt that he might find her presence in the carriage suffocating.

She normally would have enjoyed spending the long quiet hours with a good book, but she’d forgotten to retrieve a novel from the Ravenwood library, for which she wholeheartedly blamed Andrew for distracting her, even though she knew her thoughts were too jumbled to concentrate on a text at that moment.

Her mind was ablaze with the memory of the night before, and she touched her torso and chest where Andrew had…well, it still astonished her. The things he’d done. The things he had said. She almost felt…desirable.

When they arrived at the first posting inn that night, she expected Andrew to acquire separate rooms, but he didn’t. He ushered her into a small room much like the one they’d shared on their wedding night and shut the door behind them, sending the lock home with resolution.

She slept once more in his arms after another thorough lovemaking session, but the next morning, Andrew was once more atop his horse, and she spoke naught to him except for when they stopped to attend to necessities.

Was this how marriage worked? Was he simply using her to fulfill her duties as his duchess? She just didn’t know, and more, she didn’t have anyone to ask.

She knew their marriage had been the result of impossible circumstances, and she wasn’t one to construct illusions of grandeur. But surely not every husband made love to his wife the way Andrew did to her. Surely not every husband in an arranged marriage said such heartbreakingly kind things to his wife.

Her heart tripped on the memories she captured every night on their journey south. She remembered the name of every posting inn, of every hamlet and village they found themselves in, and she couldn’t help but worry that it might all end when they reached London and Andrew discovered how ill-fitted she was to be a duchess.

Would he send her back to Ravenwood Park? Banish her to the depths of Yorkshire where no one would know of her ineptitude?

Her heart squeezed at the idea, and she pressed a hand to her chest. It couldn’t possibly happen, but it didn’t mean she could stop her wandering thoughts from straying to the most sinister of outcomes.

Of course none of this came to be, and if she ever learned from her own experience, she would worry far less. For when they arrived in London, it was much as it was every other time they arrived at a destination on their journey.

Andrew introduced her to the household servants before taking her immediately upstairs to bed.

Well, it wasn’t quite like that. They had arrived well past sunset, and Andrew had ordered a bath and a tray sent up. It had been a long trek on the road, and she was rather dusty, hungry, and tired. The thought of facing both her new staff and another new house was gut-wrenchingly exhausting.

It was as if Andrew knew as much, and he tucked her away in the ducal chambers once more. After lingering in a warm bath, she found him picking at the supper tray in the sitting room.

She joined him but found her appetite was not as ravenous as it should have been. Her nerves were just as tightly wound as ever, and yet the Cornish hen and potatoes held little appeal.

Tomorrow would be her first day in London society as the Duchess of Ravenwood, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Again, it was as though Andrew could read her thoughts, and instead of making love to her, he tucked her into bed and in his arms, and she slept.

She was rather grateful for this when the next morning she found another Darby sister at breakfast.

Della had managed to find her way to the breakfast room after Andrew left her early that morning to check in with his solicitors and was feeling rather proud of herself when she stumbled on the threshold, her eyes fixated on the blonde beauty chewing thoughtfully on a piece of toast while perusing the newspapers.

She looked up and smiled, her wide blue eyes extraordinary. “You must be Della.” She dropped her toast and, brushing her hands on her napkin, stood.

Della prepared a curtsy as she was sure this sister was another duchess, but before she could move, the woman swept her into an embrace tighter than the one Johanna had given her.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve finally arrived.” She pulled back and studied Della’s face. “When we received Johanna’s letter, we couldn’t imagine what Andrew had done, but Johanna had nothing but wonderful things to say about our new sister, and we couldn’t wait to meet you.”

“We?” Della asked, although she wasn’t even sure which sister it was she spoke with.

She vaguely recalled Andrew saying Louisa was the fairer of the two sisters who resided in London, but at the moment, her thoughts had taken to jumbling about her head as she tried her best to act as a duchess would.

And much to her annoyance, she also concentrated overly much on not giving this sister a black eye.

Louisa laughed and pulled Della in for another hug. “Oh, I’m so sorry. There are quite a few of us.” She pulled away but captured Della’s hand to draw her back to the table. “I’m Louisa. Eliza said I should be the one to take you to the modiste today as Eliza is not enamored of fashion.”

Louisa sat Della down in the chair next to the one she had been occupying and oddly enough went to the sideboard and began to fill a fresh plate. She returned within seconds and placed the full plate in front of Della.

Della could only stare. Her grandmother was never one to partake heartily in meals and had regularly scolded Della for eating too much. Yet Louisa had piled the plate with eggs and sausages and tomatoes as though it were no matter.

“You’ll want to eat up,” Louisa said then, and Della realized she had been staring at her plate for too long. “A trip to the modiste can be taxing, and you’ll want your strength.”

Della picked up her fork. “I’ve never had a session with a modiste.”

Louisa sat back in her chair with a shake of her head. “Andrew said you might be inexperienced with such things.”

Della looked up at this. “Andrew said that?”

What did that mean? Did he already suspect she would fail him as a duchess?

“I caught him just as he was headed out the door this morning. He always seems rather cross when one of us appears at his doorstep.” Her grin was playful. “I can’t say I blame him. We’re rather a troublesome lot.”

Della swallowed her eggs. “He indicated as much. His trip to Scotland was rather brief for such a long journey to get there. He seemed to feel the pressure of familiar obligations required his immediate return.”

Louisa’s brow wrinkled. “Andrew said that?”

Della nodded. “Yes.” She worried her lower lip. “Well, he did say that before the necessity of our marriage became apparent. He said he wished to return to London almost immediately.”

“How odd. He told Johanna he was planning to take a long holiday.”

Doubt speared Della directly through the chest, and she stabbed another bite of sausage. “Oh?”

Louisa shook her head. “I’m almost certain of it. Perhaps something came up that I’m not aware of.”

Della.

Della was what had come up. She had ruined Andrew’s holiday; she was sure of it. Drat and feathers. She stabbed another sausage. She would make it up to him. She had to. She would request the latest fashions from the modiste that day and show Andrew she could be exactly the duchess he required. The thought helped to push back the guilt that swamped her.

“Perhaps,” Della said now with a forced smile.

Louisa clapped her hands together, suddenly changing the subject. “Oh, I am so very glad you’re here. We’ve waited such a long time for Andrew to wed. It was as if he were waiting for the rest of us to get through our eldest sister Viv’s quest to see us all married. It will be so lovely having another sister.”

Johanna had said that as well, and something uncomfortable wedged itself in Della’s chest, almost as if she feared Louisa would discover her for the impostor she was. For surely Della couldn’t be a sister. She’d never been one before. She didn’t know what it entailed, and if her history were any indication, she would fail at this too.

She set down her fork. “Well then perhaps it would be best if we were to get started. I’m sure it will take some time for the modiste to fashion my new wardrobe, and I should have obligations in town as the Duchess of Ravenwood.” It was a statement, but she was hoping it would lead to Louisa revealing more about what would be required of Della. She hadn’t had time to find a book in Ravenwood’s library about such things, and now she had no other method of discovering what it was she was expected to do.

Louisa pushed up from her chair, her smile bright. “You are absolutely right, Della. There is so much to be done.” She helped Della to her feet and squeezed her hand. “We are going to make you the most splendid Duchess of Ravenwood yet.”

Della smiled even though Louisa could not know just how important her words were.

* * *

Andrew had only beento Ashbourne House but one time, and that was for his sister’s wedding.

His recollection of that time had been a bit of a blur. Viv had only returned to Ravenwood House months before, shattered from finding her husband abed with an opera singer. He had been so sure of the Duke of Margate for a match, and when she had come home, it had shaken his foundation.

He could recall too clearly the moment she had walked into his study, her eyes swollen from crying, her hands twisting the fabric of her skirts as she tried to maintain her composure.

He’d made a mistake, and it had cost his sister so much.

He swore then to never make that mistake again. So, when Dax Kane, the Duke of Ashbourne, had asked for Eliza’s hand in marriage, Andrew had taken a different tactic. He’d asked Eliza if she wished for the marriage.

He had learned from Viv that it needn’t matter if the match looked good on paper. It didn’t matter if everything came back above board from Andrew’s discreet poking into a suitor’s background. All of that was only preliminary.

He’d done a thorough investigation into Margate when he’d asked for Viv’s hand, and Andrew had found the man satisfactory and granted his blessing. But he never asked Viv if she wished for the marriage.

He regretted it still, even though she and Ryder had worked things out between them.

Now it appeared he would be responsible for the future of another woman, and because of that, he found himself knocking on Ashbourne’s door.

He was admitted straightway and taken to the duke’s study. Andrew glanced around but neither saw nor heard any evidence of Eliza. He wondered if she were still abed at this hour as she was well into her second pregnancy.

The butler announced him and quietly backed out of the room. Dax stood upon seeing Andrew, and it struck him that they had never been acquaintances before the man had married his sister, and he wondered why. Like many other things, when he became responsible for his sisters his focus tended to preclude all else, including friendships.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” Dax said by way of greeting. “But I have a feeling if you’re standing at my door this early in the morning, there might be more to your hasty marriage than you’ve let on.”

“I’m afraid I’ve come to ask for your help.”

Dax held up a hand and went to the bell pull in the corner. A footman arrived quickly, and Dax dispatched him with a murmured command.

“Coffee?” He asked of Andrew when he turned back from the now closed door.

Andrew eyed the cart that sat beside the duke’s desk and nodded. “I think that’s probably in order.”

Dax poured and handed him the cup before pouring one for himself. Instead of settling at his desk, he indicated for Andrew to take one of the chairs arranged around the fireplace.

He’d hardly taken a sip of his coffee when the door opened again.

“My wife hurried off to Ravenwood House before she had her breakfast. I trust the urgency was a matter of necessity.” Sebastian Fielding, the Duke of Waverly, barged into the room.

He barged into any room really, and Andrew did not take this as a sign of aggression.

Dax held up his cup. “Please help yourself to coffee. I think we might need it.”

Sebastian paused and slid his gaze to Andrew. “Ravenwood, you look as though hell itself is licking at your boots. Whatever is it, man?”

Andrew held up his cup. “Marriage, I’m afraid.”

Sebastian joined them after fetching himself a cup of coffee, reclining in a chair and resting one hand along the arm of it, his fingers tapping gently. “To that I can attest.”

“So, what is it you need our help with?” Dax asked.

Andrew took a fortifying sip of his coffee and told them. He relayed what he had discovered at MacKenzie Keep, the night he had barricaded himself in Della’s room, and the subsequent rescue. Their journey south in the middle of the night and the resulting marriage. He told them everything.

“I met with my solicitors this morning, and they assure me the union is legal and binding. The MacKenzie has no footing on which to retrieve his daughter.”

“But you don’t trust him, especially because you denied him the benefits of a marriage contract,” Dax supplied.

Andrew shook his head. “I’m afraid he’ll try something rash like taking her by brute force.”

“Does he know it was you?” Sebastian asked.

Again, Andrew shook his head. “I can’t know for certain, but the morning we left the inn at Brydekirk the mail coach had just arrived. The driver said the MacKenzie was looking for his missing daughter in Kettleholm.”

“So he knew she was missing fairly quickly, but you said you created the ruse that you had left much earlier in the day.”

“I did. I left first thing that morning.”

Dax propped an ankle on the opposite knee. “That should be plenty of time to establish an alibi. You shouldn’t be a thought in his mind in regards to his daughter’s disappearance.”

“I shouldn’t, but I can’t trust that completely.” Andrew pressed his fingers against his coffee cup. “Too many people saw us in Brydekirk for me to be certain of our getaway.”

“How many people?” Sebastian asked.

“I was forced to use a seamstress to conduct the ceremony. She was clearly a charlatan.”

“And you don’t think she would be above revealing what she knows in exchange for earning a coin?” Dax asked.

“Precisely.” Andrew didn’t like the feeling he got in his gut when he thought of Madame Liliberte. “There was also the innkeeper, but he seemed to be more inclined to keep our secret.”

“Did you conceal your identities?” Sebastian this time.

Andrew shook his head. “I didn’t conceal my name. I was hoping should the MacKenzie make inquiries he would only learn that I had stayed at an inn in Brydekirk that night. I never used Della’s full name. It was only on the testimonial of the ceremony and that was all.”

Sebastian leaned forward, elbows to knees. “If anyone is going to tell it would be this Madame Liliberte person?”

“Most likely, yes.”

Dax set down his cup. “What is it that you require from us?”

“While I know our marriage is legal, I don’t trust the MacKenzie not to resort to physical force.”

Dax’s expression turned grim. “Do you think he might try to hurt her?”

Andrew shook his head. “I think he might try to kidnap her.”

“Hell’s teeth. He can’t do that,” Sebastian said in a hissed whisper.

“But he might try it. He assembled those men at MacKenzie Keep for a reason. You know how he’s regarded in Parliament. He was looking for an ally, and I’ve denied him of that.”

“The man is a right awful bastard,” Sebastian stated calmly.

“Yes, he is, and I think he planned to gain influence by leveraging his daughter.”

“What sort of father would do such a thing?”

Andrew recalled the frayed hem of Della’s traveling cloak as he’d seen it that first night.

“I have a suspicion Della has been largely ignored by her family. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if her father were using her only for the political advantage.”

Sebastian sat up, his fingers returning to the arm of his chair with a rapid staccato. “This is madness. Should we go to the Metropolitan police?”

Dax answered, “What would be the point? They couldn’t do anything as a crime hasn’t been committed, and it’s not as if they would attempt to interfere with a member of the peerage.”

Andrew knew his brother-in-law was right. While the police force was a step toward orderly justice in London, it was still in its infancy and trod carefully around those who had felt above the law for hundreds of years—namely titled gentlemen.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right. My only other alternative is to ask that—”

“We watch out for her,” Dax finished.

Andrew nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

He hated asking for help, but his need to protect Della trumped his own pride. He would do anything to keep her safe, and if it meant enlisting the aid of his brothers-in-law, he could take comfort in knowing there was more than just he looking out for her safety.

He knew his own judgment was getting cloudier every day he spent with her. The journey to London had been the longest one of his life. He thought by choosing to ride he would avoid the proximity of a carriage. The idea of a week spent cloistered in a carriage with Della was both heaven and hell. He had to stay objective if he were to keep her safe, and yet…

He couldn’t seem to stop touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

He was like a randy youth again in his first blush of lust. He craved Della the way some men craved gold or opium. And yet he continued to push her away.

He was aware he was doing it, and he couldn’t stop it. It was only fair that she should demand an explanation for the way he treated her, but he couldn’t help but think he continued to treat her the way he did because he knew she would never question it.

He was an absolute bastard for doing it. For taking advantage of her like that. He got to enjoy every piece of her except the one that would hinder his judgment.

Because he knew if he spent even more time with her, he might just lose his heart to her, and that would never work. He couldn’t protect her if he fell in love with her. He had already failed to protect his sister whom he loved dearly. He couldn’t allow it to happen again.

He had to maintain his distance. He would give her his nights, but he couldn’t afford to give her his days.

And he hated himself for it.

It wasn’t supposed to have been like this. He had always expected to marry some quiet debutante from an old and weighty title. They would have children, of course, and God willing, an heir to carry on the title. But Andrew had never expected more than that. In fact, he would have preferred it.

But that just wasn’t how it was with Della.

She was fire and thunder and rain and wind all at once, and she could never be contained. How could a woman who tried so very hard to remain unnoticed cause such a disruption in his life?

Her life had been completely upended, and she’d been forced to marry a man she hardly knew in order to protect herself, and yet all she asked for was a library.

“You know we will do everything we can to help.” Dax turned to Sebastian. “We should ask around at our club to see if anyone has heard of the MacKenzie poking around for favors.”

Sebastian nodded. “It could give us an idea of what he might be hoping to accomplish through his daughter’s marriage.” Sebastian pushed to his feet. “I’ll head there now. I would think we would wish to exercise discretion in this matter. We wouldn’t want any additional attention brought on the Duchess of Ravenwood, am I correct?”

Andrew stood as well. “Della has spent the whole of her life in her grandparents’ castle in Cumbria. I can’t imagine how much she will be forced to reckon with in the coming days. I wish very much to spare her undue strain.”

Dax stood then. “Of course. We’ll keep our inquiries as discreet as possible. In the meantime, I think it’s probably best if we were to host a dinner here so you may introduce her to society. We’ll be able to control the guests that way.”

“Thank you. That is more than I could have asked for.” Andrew felt something shift at his brother-in-law’s kindness.

“Don’t thank me. My wife would have my head if I didn’t offer.” His smile only too clearly showed his true affection for his wife, and Andrew felt a spark of envy.

They said their goodbyes and left Dax in his study. Andrew planned to head toward Ravenwood House, knowing Della would be occupied with Louisa at the modiste’s when Sebastian stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I think we’ve come to a point where we can be honest with one another. Don’t you agree, Andrew?”

It was the first time Waverly had used his given name, and Andrew felt a moment’s unease.

“I suppose it is.”

“I think you may have suspected that Louisa and I did not wed of our own volition.”

His statement struck bone as Andrew had long suspected something had forced Waverly’s hand. He turned to face the man fully now, his fists involuntarily flexing.

“I had a suspicion.”

“Louisa wished to keep the details of our marriage private because she said you took your sisters’ protection rather personally. I hope you can forgive me for concealing matters from you. I always wish to keep my wife happy.”

Andrew couldn’t fault the man for that, and as his wife was Andrew’s sister, he was almost glad to hear it. Almost.

“What is it you are trying to say?”

Waverly looked about them as if he were suddenly uncomfortable, and Andrew recalled how the man had always been called the Beastly Duke before Louisa had married him. He wondered how uncomfortable this conversation was making him, and Andrew straightened, understanding how important this must be to Waverly.

“Louisa and I did not begin our marriage in love, but we found it along the way. I only hope you will consider as much in your own marriage. I know your sisters would wish to see you happy.”

Andrew shifted. “I find the emotion of love can cloud one’s judgment. Della deserves—”

“From what I’ve heard of Her Grace, she deserves to be loved.” Waverly spoke the words quietly.

“But someone must protect her.”

Waverly’s smile was knowing. “You might be surprised at how capable the women we love are of protecting themselves.”

He walked away then, leaving Andrew to ponder just how tired he was of such knowing smiles from his sisters’ husbands.