The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee

Chapter 1

“It’s a tiger? A lion?”

Raina Prince hummed thoughtfully and continued her invisible sketch on the naked back draped across her lap.

“Nay,” she murmured, one finger drawing the curve of the feline’s back. “But close.”

Her wee son propped his chin in his hands and frowned as he concentrated on her touch, trying to feel the shape of the image. “There are whiskers, aye?”

“Aye, indeed.” The gentle burble of the River Derwent, wide and calm here and excellent for swimming, seemed to echo throughout the perfect summer afternoon. “What else has whiskers?” she asked as she sketched the animal’s fluffy tail.

“A dog has whiskers!”

Ewan was almost five years old, and visiting this part of the river had become a part of their daily routine. She would pack a picnic lunch, and they’d swim and eat until he was exhausted, then he’d nap in the shade of a magnificent oak while she read. But first she had to calm him to a restful state, so she’d invented this game where she drew pictures on his back and he tried to guess what they were.

“A dog does indeed have whiskers, my love.” She drew claws beside where she thought she’d drawn the creature’s feet a few minutes ago. “But ye were closer with yer guesses of lion and tiger.”

“Oh! A panther!” Ewan guessed in excitement, thrusting his upper body up by straightening his elbows. “It’s a panther!”

This wasn’t calming him for a nap, was it?

Smiling gently, Raina wiped her palm across the lad’s back, gently pushing him back down. “It’s no’ a panther.”

“A jackal?”

Lightly, she pinched her son’s bare arse, which wasn’t as white as it had been at the start of the summer. Perhaps she should find him a bathing costume. But it’s not as though anyone came to this remote bend in the river; in fact, it was almost at the end of the Fangfoss estate!

“A jackal isnae a feline, son.”

“What’s a feline?”

Hmm. Perhaps she ought to have a word with the nurse she’d hired to bring along on this trip. Annie was obviously not teaching the lad as much as Raina had hoped.

“A feline is a cat.” To punctuate this lesson, she added a sketch of what she imagined might’ve been a dead mouse by the feline’s front paws. “Like the barn cats back home.”

When he still didn’t pick up on the hints, Raina began to stroke her palm across her son’s back, as if she were stroking the cat’s fur.

“Ye’re certain it’s no’ a panther?”

She couldn’t hide her grin. “Nay, it’s no’ a panther.” The lad wasn’t tired at all, was he? “But he’s gray and white—”

“Like the barn cats back home?”

Ah, he was beginning to understand.

“Aye, just like the wee beasts,” she murmured softly.

“Panthers are gray and white—”

“Nay, they’re no’. It’s no’ a panther, Ewan. It’s a feline who has just caught a mouse.”

He pushed himself up on his arms once more. “Like the barn cats?”

“Aye,” she huffed in exasperation. “Like the barn cats! He’s gray and white like the barn cats, and he has whiskers like the barn cats.”

“But how can ye be certain it’s no’ a panther?”

Raina’s frustrated laughter burst out of her at the lad’s dogged line of reasoning just as a new voice said quietly, “Is it a barn cat?”

Her son jumped up off her lap as Raina twisted to find the newcomer: a lad of about ten years in a bathing costume, standing quietly over her shoulder. He offered her a small grin and a shrug, as though he knew he’d startled her.

“Aye.” She managed to find her voice. “It was a barn cat.”

Ewan made an irritated sound and stamped his foot. “A barn cat? That was too simple, Mama!”

Hiding her grin, Raina busied herself picking up the remains of their lunch. “Ye didnae guess it. Our new friend had to.”

“I could’ve guessed it if ye’d given me more hints!”

Wondering what further hints she could’ve possibly given him, Raina turned her attention to the newcomer. “And ye must be a smart lad to guess the drawing despite no’ being able to feel it.”

The lad shrugged again, his attention on Ewan. “Sometimes it’s easier to see the whole picture from afar.”

It was a surprisingly complex statement from one so young, and Raina was about to ask him about it when she heard yet another new voice.

“Matthew! Matthew, you win, lad! Where are you?”

The boy—Matthew?—flushed and whirled around, before calling out, “I’m here, Father. Already at our swimming spot!”

Ourswimming spot?

Raina didn’t have time to wonder about the claim before footsteps along the river path alerted her to the lad’s father’s arrival. And then she couldn’t say a blessed thing, because her throat—and her lungs, and likely, her heart—seemed to freeze when the man stepped into the light.

He was beautiful. The man’s pale hair glittered gold in the sunshine, and his tall, lean body was encased in a form-fitting bathing costume. She’d always had a soft spot for well-built men, and this one was no exception. From here, she could see the corded muscles in his forearms as he shifted the towels he carried to the other arm.

But his expression turned to confusion as his blue eyes swept over her and Ewan, and she watched as his eyes turned cool.

“Good afternoon,” he said stiffly.

Instead of climbing to her feet, as though she and her son had done something wrong, Raina instead crossed her feet at the ankles and rested her weight on her palms. She saw the man’s gaze travel down the length of her legs encased in dark wool, which was so popular for ladies to swim in these days, before lingering on her bare feet.

She wriggled her toes and was rewarded when he cleared his throat and glanced away.

“Have ye come to swim then?” she asked cheekily. “Do join us.”

Although she’d been hoping Ewan would nap, he seemed even more energized by the newcomers’ presence.

Her son rushed up to the new lad, Matthew. “My name’s Ewan. I’m almost five, and I can swim! My granda says I swim like a fish, but I cannae breathe underwater.”

Matthew nodded solemnly and offered his hand, as if unconcerned by Ewan’s nakedness. “I’m Matthew, and I’m ten. My father says I’m a good swimmer, although the water here isn’t over my head anymore.”

Ewan shook the lad’s hand enthusiastically. “Do ye come here often? Mama has brought me almost every morning this summer. Nurse says it’s to keep me out of trouble, but I think it’s because she loves me. Mama, not Nurse.”

“You don’t love your nurse?” Matthew was still allowing his hand to be shaken.

“She’s alright, but she’s no’ Mama.”

“I don’t have a Mama,” the older lad said solemnly. “She died when I was a baby.”

So the golden-haired god glaring at them from the path was a widower? Interesting.

“I don’t have a da,” Ewan announced cheekily, “but Mama loves me enough for two, she says. Also, I have a million uncles and a granda and a barn cat. Do ye like it here? I like it here!”

Raina smiled as she watched Matthew—such a dear, serious boy—extricate himself from Ewan’s enthusiastic handshake. “My father and I come here once a week in the afternoon to swim.” He glanced over his shoulder at the gorgeous man who was slowly stalking toward the pair, and lowered his voice. “I don’t get to spend much time with him otherwise.”

Her heart clenched for the lad. Judging from the man’s imperious gaze, he was some sort of local lord, likely too busy for much time with his son. But the fact he had made this time, and the fact they’d been racing here, meant he obviously loved the lad.

She was wondering if she should gather their things—and find some clothes for Ewan—and leave early in order to give the newcomers more time, when her son asked, “Is this yer favorite spot then?”

Matthew nodded. “It’s the best for swimming. Father says his mother brought him here as a boy. And then he brought his little sister here—Aunt Carlotta—before I was born. But I’ve never had a friend to swim with before.”

Raina’s good-natured son smiled. “Now ye do! I’ll show ye how long I can hold my breath, as long as ye dinnae let me drown. That’s what Mama says.” He whirled about with pleading eyes. “Is that fine, Mama?”

“I won’t let him drown, ma’am,” Matthew piped up.

Well, how could she deny two such adorable smiles? She couldn’t drag Ewan away now, not by hook nor crook, with Matthew looking so excited for a playmate. “Have fun, the pair of ye.”

The lads gave nearly identical whoops and lunged for the water. Matthew splashed right in, and Ewan flopped on his belly, coming up with a shriek of, “It’s cold!”

“That’s because you’re naked, lad,” the man murmured over her shoulder.

Knowing Ewan couldn’t hear Matthew’s father’s chastisement, Raina assumed it was meant for her to hear only. But since she’d never been one to follow Society’s dictates, she simply chuckled in response. Since she was still stretched out on the blanket, she tilted her head back and smiling at him invitingly.

“Will ye join me then, to watch our lads cavort?” As the man lowered himself to sit stiffly beside her on the blanket, her smile faded to a rueful one. “I’m sorry Ewan and I have stolen yer favorite spot. He’s right in that I try to bring him here most mornings. We learned about the spot from one of the grooms at Fangfoss Manor.”

When he exhaled, he seemed to lose some of the proper starch. Tossing the towels down beside him, he rested one elbow on the pile. “The Fangfoss property ends over there.” He pointed to the next bend in the river. “I’ve been enjoying the shade of this tree since I was your lad’s age.”

So she was no longer on Fangfoss land? Whose land was this then? Did it belong to this intriguingly handsome man? Did she care?

Deciding the informality of the afternoon—her son was cavorting naked, by St. Columbine!—called for relaxed standards, Raina offered him her hand. “I’m Raina Prince.”

He hesitated for a moment, then took her hand.

A tingly warmth—an awareness—encased her fingers and flowed up her arm toward her heart. She tamped down a shiver and met his gaze boldly.

Dear Lord in Heaven, but this man could make her do all sorts of things. She didn’t know him, but she knew what she liked. And right now, she liked him very much!

“You can call me Cash,” he finally said.

She cocked her head to one side, studying him, glad he hadn’t released her hand. “Why? Is that yer name?”

He opened his mouth, but hesitated again. Slowly, as if considering his answer, he said, “It is part of my name.”

“Then I have no choice but to assume your given name is Cassius.”

From the river, his son’s voice called out, “His given name’s Adolphus!”

A laugh burst from her, and when the man pulled his hand away, she was immediately sorry. Instead of apologizing though, she offered him another smile.

“I think, were my given name Adolphus, I would choose to go by my family name as well.” She guessed “Cassius” was his last name. “I apologize for giggling.”

He shrugged and draped his forearms across his knees. “No one calls me Adolphus. I wasn’t aware my son even knew my name.”

She was surprised. “He’s a smart lad, why would he no’?” Before he could answer, she teased him, “So I shouldnae call ye Dolly?”

She was relieved to see his lip’s twitch upward as he snorted derisively. “I had an aunt who called me that. I hated it.”

Glad he was accepting of her teasing, she said, “Then ‘Cash’ it is. It is better than Adolphus Cassius, which is truly horrible.” She winked. “I’m pleased to meet ye, Cash.”

There was something about the afternoon’s informality which gave her the bravery to nudge his shoulder with hers. From the startled expression on his face, he hadn’t expected it. He turned thoughtful blue eyes on her, considering his words, before nodding.

“I think I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Prince.”

Missus. The reminder he assumed her married should’ve been a bucket of cold river water over the warmth of the encounter. But she was far too used to the sneers of Society, and her body’s reaction to him was far too intriguing, to be shunted aside by some flimsy reminder.

“Oh, ye should call me Raina,” she corrected him. “Since we’re being informal.” She nodded to the river, where Matthew was trying to coax Ewan to sit on his shoulders. “Ewan, Matthew, Cash and Raina.” She shot him a cheeky grin. “Just four people enjoying the summer.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I think I should like that very much.”

Out in the river, the lads seemed to be competing for who could hold their breath the longest now, but since Ewan couldn’t count reliably past twenty, it was hampering the athletic competition.

“I know I was underwater longer than twenty-two seconds, Ewan!”

“I counted right!”

The older lad propped his hands on his hips, just visible under the surface of the river. “Show me,” he demanded.

Ewan lifted his fingers and began to count. The higher the numbers, the harder it got. “Thirteen, fourteen, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty, twenty-eighteen, twenty-six, twenty-twenty, eleven!” he finished proudly.

Instead of being irritated, Matthew laughed and lunged for the younger lad, wrapping his arms around the lad’s smaller chest, and catapulting them both into deeper water.

Suddenly alarmed, Raina sat forward, her eyes on the twisting swirl of water where they were playing, ready to spring to her son’s rescue if necessary.

But a hand on her arm stopped her.

“Don’t worry,” Cash said in a low voice. “Matthew won’t let anything happen to your son. He’s a strong swimmer.”

Nodding, Raina settled back on the blanket, though her attention never left the water. “And a good lad. He accepted Ewan as a friend immediately.”

“He doesn’t have many friends,” the man admitted. “My position—”

He must’ve decided whatever he’d intended to say would mar the tranquility of the afternoon, so he bit down on his words. When she glanced at him—after ensuring both lads’ heads were above water once more—he shrugged.

His grin was almost sheepish, and she decided she very much liked seeing him disarmed, instead of the cool and commanding personality he’d originally portrayed.

“I understand, milord,” she intoned seriously, certain her eyes betrayed her mirth, as she made a point of lifting the edge of her bathing costume’s skirt between two fingers and nodding solemnly. It was as close to a curtsy as she could get while reclined as she was. “Thank ye for lowering yerself to play with peasants such as ourselves.”

The bark of laughter which escaped his lips seemed to surprise him, which caused Raina to grin.

“Ye can laugh, then?” she teased, which elicited more chuckles from him.

Finally, Cash settled back against the towels, more at ease now, as they watched their sons play. “I think, here, I’m not milord, and you’re not a lady.”

“Oh, I’m no’ really a lady anywhere,” she corrected him cheekily.

Her father was technically an earl—although Highlanders cared more about his title as Laird Oliphant—but her decisions five years ago meant no one in Society thought of her as a lady anymore.

Cash’s eyes were twinkling speculative as they swept her relaxed and lounging form there under the oak.

“Really?” he murmured. “Lucky you.”

Now it was her turn to laugh, just as Matthew succeeded in standing upright in the water with Ewan on his shoulders.

“Look, Mama! Look!”

Still chuckling, she sat forward again so she could clap appreciatively. “Well done, Ewan! Well done, Matthew! Can ye walk with him like that?”

It appeared not, as they were simply too unstable. But she liked that as soon as Ewan tumbled off Matthew’s shoulders, the two of them popped right back up and tried again.

“He’s a good lad,” murmured Cash. “Your husband must be proud of him as well.”

Ah. Well, the old gossip would need to be addressed at some point, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t mind this man knowing the truth. Perhaps because of the odd instant connection the two of them obviously shared.

Or perhaps it was the desire she saw banked in his eyes, which she knew he could see in hers as well.

Shifting around to face him more fully, she held his gaze. “I’m no’ married, Cash. Never was.”

His eyes widened just slightly, before his gaze dropped to her lips. “Ah.”

And now he thought her a whore, a doxy. A strumpet, a Jezebel, a harlot, a woman willing to part her legs for the right man, coin or no coin.

She’d heard the whispers for years. After Ewan’s birth—after she’d refused to hide her condition and give up her son after his birth—Society had made it perfectly clear what they thought of her. It didn’t matter that she was the daughter of an earl and sister to a viscount. It didn’t matter that she’d attended one of the finest finishing schools in London. None of her skills or accomplishments had mattered at all, because she’d refused to hide such an important part of her life.

Her son.

Luckily, her family supported her in her decisions, and she’d been happy to retire to Newfincy Castle and thumb her nose at those who expected her to conform. But when the proprietress of her old finishing school—the newly minted Countess Fangfoss—had invited her and five of her closest school chums to Fangfoss Manor outside of York, how could Raina have refused? She’d desperately missed her friends, and the chance to be together again outweighed the frustration of knowing the house party was an excuse to play matchmaker.

Well, it had worked. The former Miss Julia Twittingham was crowing over the fact that so many of Raina’s friends had found love, and Raina knew she was being eyed speculatively. That was one of the reasons she’d insisted on bringing Ewan along to the house party; to remind Society, and herself, that she wouldn’t conform to their standards. Not after they’d scorned her so thoroughly for following her heart when it came to her son.

As such, she made a point to take her son swimming, just the two of them. She spent time with her friends, but Raina refused to play the countess’s games and attend the formal dancing each Friday evening. She would return home in the autumn still happily unmarried, but would rejoice in her friends’ happiness.

And ignore the fact Society thought of her as being easy-virtued.

Well, perhaps I am.

She was surprised she didn’t entirely mind that Cash—he of the remarkable forearms and chiseled jaw and warm touch—might think of her that way. There was something which very much looked like interest and appreciation in his eyes, when his gaze lingered on the neckline of her bathing costume, which lit a fire deep within her belly.

Nay, not her belly. Lower.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Raina pressed her thighs together, secretly delighted at the spread of warmth which spiked through her. If she hadn’t been sitting down, she might’ve gone weak-kneed.

Oh my.

Oh aye.

It had been a while since a man had made her feel this way, and even longer since she’d been tempted to act upon it.

Did it matter if he thought her a harlot? If he thought her available?

The way she was feeling right now, she wouldn’t mind being available to this man. Not at all.

“Father! Look! We’re doing it!”

“Mama! Mama!”

The lads’ twin calls split the tension between Raina and Cash, and jerked their attention to the river, where Matthew was carefully feeling his way along the bottom, a proud Ewan clutching at his head.

Raina was, in some regards, relieved for the diversion. It wasn’t as if she planned to attack the poor man just because she couldn’t keep her arousal under control. But being reminded of her responsibilities had a sobering affect.

“Well done, lads,” she called, knowing her voice sounded huskier than usual.

Cash was clapping and calling out, “Bravo! Bravo!”

Matthew looked surprised by his father’s praise and grinned hugely, before attempting a bow, which of course sent Ewan tumbling forward with a shriek. Raina surged to her feet, peering anxiously at the water.

By the time her son’s head popped up, and she felt she could breathe again, Cash was a warm presence at her side. And if she wasn’t mistaken, his sigh of relief echoed her own.

In fact, the pair of them shared a quick grin as she lifted her arm to call Ewan out of the water. The camaraderie between them sent a surprising burst of longing through her.

What would it be like to share the worry and responsibility of loving a small human with another person? A man?

Did she want that?

Nay. Nay.

She’d tried to play by Society’s rules and look where she’d landed. Better to remain thought of as a doxy, eyed in appreciation by men like Cash, than think about yoking herself to a man just so she could share some minor burdens.

And perhaps, while he was busy eying her like a delectable dish, she could do the same to him.