The Duke and the Lass by Jessie Clever

Chapter 7

She hadn’t realized she would be meeting one of the sisters so soon. She thought they would all be in London when in fact, there was one happily married and living at a neighboring estate to Ravenwood Park, Andrew’s home.

Great bloody bollocks.

What would she think of Della?

They hadn’t made many stops on their journey south. Andrew and his men had thought it better that they make as much distance as possible, and they were turning onto the drive of Ravenwood Park just as the sun was setting on the second day.

They’d stopped only to change horses and take care of necessities. Aldrich and St. John, Andrew’s servants as she’d learned that first day of travel, had taken turns driving while the other slept on the box. She couldn’t imagine it had been very comfortable, but it was evident the men were loyal to Ravenwood, and this made her feel less nervous about her future.

After all, she’d married a man who had kidnapped her from her father’s home after knowing her for not much more than twenty-four hours. It was the rashest thing she’d ever done, and really, she should have obeyed her father. It was what would be expected of her as his daughter, but when faced with the reality of it, she hadn’t been able to do so.

She could still hear those men’s voices as they scraped at her door and argued over who would have her first. She may have been a burden her whole life, but she was still a person, and she deserved at least some respect.

She did not deserve the Duke of Ravenwood, but she wasn’t going to argue when the universe seemed to think this was meant to be. She eyed him now as the carriage bounced its way up the drive, her fingers unconsciously toying with the signet ring he’d given her. He leaned forward, his gaze locked out the window as if he were seeing the place for the first time.

She wondered at it. To love a place so much as to have such a physical reaction to it. She worried if they did not hurry, he would fall out the door in anticipation of seeing home.

Home.

She’d never really had one, and a hollowness clawed at her stomach. She remembered very little of her younger years when she and her mother had still lived at MacKenzie Keep, and then it was mostly the feeling of being constantly cold and having to be very quiet so as not to draw attention to herself. Now that she thought of it, her grandparents’ home wasn’t much different. Her grandmother had always instructed her to make as little noise as possible to avoid being even more of a nuisance.

For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to be loud. To speak when she simply wished to and not when it was asked of her. To frolic and play and laugh like children did. For she’d heard other children making noise whenever her mother had taken her to tea with friends. Della had never been invited to play with the other children. It was so long ago now, she had trouble remembering why it was she had been excluded, but she wouldn’t doubt if it had something to do with the fact that she always carried a book with her to those tea outings.

She pressed her hands together in her lap now, her stomach churning as the house came into view through the trees.

It was enormous.

She pressed her lips together and willed her stomach to settle. She was now the mistress of this grand home, and yet she wished her eyes deceived her.

Ravenwood Park was a massive, neoclassical stone structure with a sweeping front stair that led to a robust colonnade over which an entablature supported a frieze of sculptures she couldn’t make out from this distance. Flanking the front colonnade were wings that stretched far on either side, and she knew she couldn’t possibly remember all the rooms each wing must encompass.

The carriage rounded the circular drive in front of the house and came to a stop at the bottom of the sweeping stone staircase. Andrew didn’t wait for the step and instead opened the door and hopped out.

She heard the crunch of gravel and leaned forward to peer out the door. She had thought it was custom for servants to be readied and presented when the lord of the estate returned home, but the stairs were entirely empty. Andrew’s back was to her as he seemed to study those same stairs, and all at once, doubt swamped her.

In the two days since they’d left the inn, Andrew had not touched her. Not that she had expected him to. He wouldn’t have reason to after all. It was only that…well…

She wanted him to touch her.

What she had experienced in his arms was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was physical, yes, but it was more than that.

She finally knew what it was like to feel close to someone.

In that moment, in that room at the inn, it was as though her life had finally intersected with someone else’s. It wasn’t that she was a burden. It wasn’t that she was a problem to be dealt with. It was that she was a woman, and he was a man, and they came together in the most basic way possible.

She had felt seen, but no. It was so much more. She had been felt and heard and coveted.

It was so many things at one time and then…nothing.

She tried to think the best of the situation. It was odd what had happened between them, and arguably, neither of them could be expected to know what to do in such a situation. It wasn’t as though she were being stolen away in the middle of the night on a regular basis, and she most certainly was not marrying men she hardly knew.

Still the seeming indifference to her presence in the carriage had hurt.

Again, she tried to understand. They were both exhausted. She still wore the same tattered dress she’d worn to escape her father’s keep. Andrew wore the same clothes as well, now rumpled and soiled from the long drive, but at least his trousers didn’t have holes in them.

She drew a deep breath and willed her stomach to settle. This was all new and different for both of them. Things would work out. She just knew it.

She raised her chin and moved to the door. She would simply do her absolute best to be the perfect duchess. She wouldn’t give Andrew any cause to think her a burden, and perhaps if she performed well enough, he might learn to love her one day.

The thought seized her, and she wondered from where it had come. It was ridiculous, of course. Who was she to hope to be loved one day?

He must have heard her because he turned as she alighted. Too late he offered her a hand as if he’d forgotten she was there, and she pretended not to notice the aborted gesture even as her chest twisted at the sight of it.

She swallowed. “This is all quite grand.” She smiled, hard, and hoped she didn’t appear overeager.

But his gaze didn’t linger long on her face as he turned back to the stairs.

“Yes, it is at that. I didn’t have time to write ahead to let them know of our arrival, but I’m sure Mrs. Collins can have a bath drawn immediately.”

He started up the stairs, and it was several seconds before she realized she was to follow him. His voice bounced back at her against the harsh surfaces of the stone facade.

“My sister likely has something you can wear, but Mrs. Collins can probably find suitable clothing for you in the interim until you can visit the seamstress in the village.”

“Mrs. Collins?” she called after him.

He’d reached the top of the stairs by then and turned. She didn’t miss the sheepish look on his face when he realized how far behind him she was, and her chest twisted again.

She swallowed down the hurt and gained the top of the promenade to stand next to him. It was all just the oddity of the situation. It wasn’t about her personally.

Now if only she could believe that.

“Yes, the housekeeper. I’ll send a messenger to Raeford Court for my sister. She’ll be able to assist you…” He gestured vaguely about her person, and reflexively, she drew in a breath to make herself smaller, and it sparked a shower of sadness in her. “With everything,” he finished.

They reached the massive front doors then and without waiting for them to be opened, he marched inside, holding the door open for her to enter.

She was used to ancient Scottish keeps and moldy English castles, so she was not prepared for the glittering grandeur of Ravenwood Park.

The front hall was a confection of white marble and gilt chandeliers. The central staircase was bracketed by smooth banisters of warm, polished wood that drew the eye upward to the balcony above and then farther to the mural-covered ceiling adorned with exquisite plaster medallions.

And this was only the foyer. She couldn’t imagine what the rest of the house looked like.

The quiet that surrounded them was interrupted by the efficient sound of clipped footsteps coming from the back of the house. A woman appeared in a crisp uniform of black and stark white, her hair ensconced in an equally brilliant white cap.

“Your Grace.” Her tone was firm with a hint of surprise. “We were not made aware of your arrival.”

“Mrs. Collins, I offer you an apology. Our return was rather…hasty.” He spoke the last word as if it should entail all that had occurred in the last several days.

Della wasn’t sure why, but when Andrew had spoken of Mrs. Collins, she’d pictured a plump, pleasant woman with a chatelaine of keys and a smiling disposition.

But Mrs. Collins was none of those things. For one, the woman could not have been more than fifteen years Della’s senior, perhaps only a handful of years older than Andrew himself. She was also beautiful with chestnut-colored hair and wide green eyes.

Della drew in another breath, her shoulders hunching as if she could disappear.

It was, of course, at that moment that Andrew introduced her. “May I introduce my wife?” he said with a sweeping hand in her direction. “Della Darby, the Duchess of Ravenwood.”

Mrs. Collins curtsied immediately. “Your Grace, it is an honor to meet you.” Her face remained pleasantly neutral at the news that surely should have rocked the head of staff of a household such as Ravenwood Park, but Mrs. Collins did nothing more than slightly widen her eyes. “I’m sorry we were not informed of your arrival. I would have had the staff ready to receive their new mistress.”

Della thought she might be sick. Not only was she a duchess of a house the size and grandeur of Ravenwood Park, but she also had a staff.

A staff that included the incredibly beautiful Mrs. Collins.

Andrew waved off Mrs. Collins’s concern. “Our departure was unexpectedly hasty, and really, the situation at present is highly unusual, and protocol is the least of my concern.” He took Della’s arm then and drew her forward, and Della wished she might disappear into the floor. “A bath is in order, immediately, and if you could have the duchess’s rooms readied for my wife.”

Then she felt it. His hand at the small of her back pushing her forward. He was handing her off to Mrs. Collins like a mother would hand off her wailing child to a nanny. She was just another nuisance then, handed off for the servants to deal with.

She couldn’t even summon the strength to raise her chin.

“I must send a messenger to Raeford. Can you send a footman to my study? I’ll have a letter ready for him.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Mrs. Collins bowed her head as Andrew disappeared toward the back of the house.

Della watched him go. He hadn’t even acknowledged her since entering the house.

What was she to expect really? It wasn’t as though he’d married her for love. She’d never expected to marry for love, but then she hadn’t realized she might fall in love with the man who would marry her. It seemed one-sided love was its own special torture.

Someone touched her elbow then, gently, but it was enough to have her start.

“Your Grace.” Mrs. Collins’s eyes were kind as she peered up at Della.

Up.

The woman was even the proper diminutive size Della knew men found attractive.

“It seems you’ve ruined your dress. Might you have brought something you can change into after your bath?” Mrs. Collins’s eyes drifted to the door as if expecting Della’s luggage to appear.

But there was no luggage. Della didn’t even have a book now.

She pressed her hands to her stomach. “I haven’t any things.”

She hated how weak her voice sounded. In all the years and through all the times she’d been handed off to someone, she’d never lost her fortitude. But it seemed she had found the one thing that held enough power to slay her, and it was nothing more than a handsome face.

Mrs. Collins frowned. “We’ll find you something, Your Grace. You must be tired. Let’s get you upstairs.”

She was nice. Andrew’s housekeeper was nice and pretty and young.

Never before had Della felt so out of place.

* * *

“You caught a wife in Scotland then?”

Andrew looked up from the estate report his steward had left for him. He had taken refuge in estate business the moment he’d left Della in the care of Mrs. Collins. It was easier to focus on crop yields and drainage than to think of how he was going to keep Della safe.

He hadn’t expected the MacKenzie to catch on so quickly that his daughter was missing, and he worried the man was sharper than he appeared. Now Andrew had to hope he’d paid a handsome enough sum to keep the lips shut of the few people who knew Della had passed through Brydekirk with him. If the MacKenzie discovered Andrew’s name associated with his daughter’s disappearance, he would have a map leading directly to her.

For once, Andrew took comfort in the archaic marriage laws that both made their ramshackle union legal and made Della his property by rights. He couldn’t think of her in that way. She was too…well, much to think of in terms of owning her, but in this instance, he would. Because it kept her safe from the dishonorable machinations of her father.

Did the MacKenzie really think one of those gentlemen he had summoned to his keep would swear fealty to him in a marriage contract? The practice was barbaric and only served to show how little he thought of his own daughter. Andrew could not allow that to happen to Della.

In the meantime, he had to stay away from her.

The one moment he had lost his resolve, lost himself in her, disaster had struck. It might have been hyperbole, but thinking in such terms kept his wits sharp. This time it was only a mail coachman with the news of a missing daughter, but next time it could be the MacKenzie himself. Andrew had to stay focused and keep Della from danger.

Which meant he had to stay away from her.

He couldn’t look into those fathomless blue eyes and not forget the world around them. He couldn’t watch the way those same eyes fluttered closed in desire or listen to the small mewling sounds she made when he touched her, caressed her, consumed her.

God, it had not been his best attempt at lovemaking, and yet he was still rattled by it.

For the first time in his life, making love had been about more than physical release. It had been about exploration and discovery, and he had only just started and now he had to stay away from her.

The two days in the carriage had been agony. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, but then more than ever he had had to stay alert. The MacKenzie could have found them at any turn, and he didn’t wish to risk being caught unawares.

He’d already dashed off a letter to his solicitors in London. If he must, he would marry Della again to ensure the legality of their union, but he also wanted to be prepared should the MacKenzie prove another legal point to regain possession of his daughter.

So, when he looked up to find his best friend standing before him, Andrew felt a modicum of relief. Should it come to it, he knew he had an ally in Benedict Carver, the Duke of Raeford.

“I failed to mention I might be in search of a wife, did I?”

Ben came into the study and took a chair in front of Andrew’s desk. He wore no coat despite the falling autumn temperatures, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to show tanned skin. His trousers and waistcoat were serviceable wool, and had he not known better, Andrew would not have known him for the duke he was. Ben Carver looked every inch a farmer, and it made Andrew smile.

“You may have mentioned it in passing, but I made the assumption you might find her in London like the rest of us blokes.” He gestured widely. “I apologize for assuming the worst of you.”

Andrew tossed down his pen. “I’m appalled you would think so lowly of me, Raeford.”

Ben settled back in his chair and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee. “A wife though, Andrew. That’s rather more than a stag. Care to tell an old friend how it came about.”

Andrew reclined in his seat and told his friend about what had happened over the past three days. By the end of it, Ben was leaning forward in his seat, elbows to knees.

“Do you think the MacKenzie will find her here?”

Andrew shrugged. “I had hoped we would have more time before he realized what happened, but I’ve learned the man is a great deal more conniving than I had anticipated.”

“He really offered his daughter to those men? In exchange for sworn fealty?”

“We were encouraged to sample the goods.” Even saying the words now in the safety of his own home left Andrew tasting bile.

Ben made a sound of disgust as he sat back. “You had no choice but to marry her.”

Andrew nodded. “And now I must keep her safe. I think we should head to London as soon as possible. I like the feeling of putting more space between us and the MacKenzie.”

“It doesn’t mean he won’t try to follow you,” Ben offered.

“I know, but I should think the man will be reluctant to go so far south before the start of the next parliament session.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that should keep him in Scotland?”

Andrew leaned both elbows on his desk. “I hope it would give him pause to think through his actions before doing something hasty. Besides, from what Della has told me of her childhood, I can’t think her father would be too quick to get her back. Unless he had some idea of where he hoped to marry her off to.”

“You mean if he were seeking an alliance of some sort with one of the selected gentlemen?”

Andrew picked up his pen and slid it through his fingers as he thought it over. “He mentioned her dowry as an enticement to the gentlemen he had gathered. I didn’t think of it at the time as more than a father attempting to marry off a daughter to a gentleman who would provide a beneficial connection, but I’ve had time to think now, and I wonder if the MacKenzie didn’t have certain alliances in mind.”

“You mean he chose those gentlemen on purpose because he thought to gain something specifically from any one of them?”

“Well, Della lived with her maternal grandparents until her father summoned her to Scotland. Why bother with her at all unless the MacKenzie had a bigger plan?”

“Perhaps her grandparents were putting pressure on him to see her wed?”

“Annoying in-laws then?”

Ben’s smile was sardonic. “In-laws can be such pests.”

“I will let that comment go as I pity you, old friend. I cannot imagine being shackled to my sister.”

Ben sat back with a hearty laugh, one filled with such contentment and pleasure it had Andrew’s chest squeezing in envy.

“I can assure you I require no pity. All is well in Raeford.” His friend’s smile suggested things were more than well in his marriage, and Andrew couldn’t help but feel a lift at the thought.

His sister’s marriage hadn’t started in such a beautiful place, and it bolstered Andrew to know they had found happiness.

He wondered briefly if he’d ever find a place in his marriage like that, but even at just the thought, an unpleasant weight settled in his stomach. He wouldn’t have a marriage like Johanna and Ben. He just knew it. His body responded to Della’s in a way he’d never experienced before, but it wasn’t love that had brought them together.

Despite everything, he’d known Ben and Johanna had a mutual attraction even before the truth of Ben’s intentions were revealed. Andrew and Della didn’t have such a friendly base from which to work. They were just two souls thrown together in a dire situation.

But did that mean it was hopeless?

“Speaking of Raeford, I had hoped my sister might be able to provide some clothing for Della. I know they aren’t of the same size, but we’re rather desperate. Della wasn’t able to bring any of her things with her, and the one gown she was wearing was the unfortunate victim of a pine tree.”

Ben hissed in a breath. “Do I dare ask?”

Andrew nodded sagely. “It’s how I was able to get her out the window. There was a convenient tree to provide egress.”

“Your wife climbed a tree?” Ben’s voice had taken on an air of astonishment.

“Yes. The situation called for it. It wasn’t as though she had much choice.”

Ben’s eyes had widened and stayed that way as Andrew explained.

“What?” Andrew was finally prodded to ask.

But Ben only shook his head. “It’s nothing really. It’s just…well, nothing.” Ben waved it off, but Andrew could tell there was more that his friend wasn’t saying. Whatever it was, it left a lingering smile on his friend’s face and Andrew wishing to know the jest. “I’m sure Johanna has found something adequate for her to wear. Are you thinking of leaving for London in the next few days?”

Andrew nodded sharply. “I hope to be underway as soon as I can have some gowns fashioned for Della. I hate to leave Ravenwood Park so soon, but the estate seems to be in order.”

“I’m always happy to check on the place for you, you know that. Johanna and I don’t plan to return to London until Christmastime, and even then, it will be a struggle to get her to leave.”

“You’re thinking of spending time in London during the holidays?” This was the first Andrew had heard of it. As far as he knew, the other sisters were plotting how to have the Christmas holidays at Ravenwood Park so they could make excuses to see Johanna.

Ben ran a hand through his hair. “Johanna is concerned about Viv and Eliza traveling.”

Viv and Eliza were both pregnant and due at the beginning of the new year. Travel would be difficult in December for both of them, and it would be just like his sister to put their comfort first.

“I’m not going to Margate,” Andrew said quickly.

Ben laughed. “You’ve no wish to spend the holidays at the shore?”

Andrew shuddered. “Do you know what she is like?” he asked, referring to his eldest sister, Viv. “So damn proud of those hops.”

Ben laughed again. “You should be proud of her after everything that’s happened.”

Ben’s reminder sent a chill through Andrew, and he rose to his feet. He didn’t like remembering what happened to Viv when he had thought he’d managed an excellent match for her. When she’d returned to her childhood home in a fit of rage and tears, crushed and heartbroken, he knew he’d failed her as a brother. He didn’t like to be reminded of it, and he knew he would never let it happen again.

To any of the women under his care.

“I’m only glad the situation has resolved itself. I shouldn’t have liked to address matters further.”

Ben’s smile faded. “Address matters further? Do you mean Viv’s marriage? I hardly see how she would allow you to meddle in her marriage.”

Ben was right. Viv was headstrong to the point of being stubborn.

“Be that as it may, I am her brother, and it’s my duty to care for her.”

Ben’s expression folded in question. “Duty to care? You’re sounding rather old and curmudgeonly, old friend. I think all of the Darby sisters are more than capable of taking care of themselves, don’t you agree?”

Andrew folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t.”

Ben let out a bark of laughter and stood. “I am not at all surprised to hear as much. Especially after the show of bravado in the garden when I first came home.”

His friend referred to an incident in the Ravenwood garden in London when Andrew heard Johanna had scampered off into the dark with a rake. He didn’t regret the show of strength he had demonstrated when discovering the pair. If it had been anyone other than Ben, it would have been warranted. Come to think of it, Ben’s intentions at the time hadn’t been all that honorable either, but Andrew had only learned of that later.

“With Mother dying so young and Father staying rather apart from us, the job was left to me to care for them.”

Ben’s brow furrowed. “That might be but they’re adults now. Do you not think them strong enough to make decisions on their own?”

Andrew was saved from having to voice a reply by a crash over their heads. It was loud enough to reverberate through the entirety of the room.

Ben sucked in a breath. “I suppose it’s not going well.”

“What’s not going well?” Andrew had felt the scrape of trepidation down the back of his neck even before his friend had spoken.

Ben pointed to the ceiling where the crash had originated. “Johanna brought some gowns for Della to try. She went directly upstairs when we arrived.”

“Johanna is upstairs? With Della?”

Ben nodded. “She made me swear not to tell.”

“You left Della alone with Johanna?” Andrew seethed, but he didn’t wait for a reply. He was already running for the door.