The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen
Chapter One
James Langley, the Duke of Lornadale, stood in the entrance hall of his London residence and watched helplessly as yet another lady’s companion stormed out of the door, suitcase in hand and a look of fury across her face. That was the third one this year to charge out in indignation. He had to do something, make some sort of definitive decision. He glanced over at his sister, who shrugged at him innocently as if she hadn’t been the cause of this mess.
“What did you do to frighten this one away?” he asked his lips in a tight, disapproving frown.
“I did absolutely nothing,” Rebecca imperiously, the picture of blamelessness. “It’s not my fault you keep hiring incompetent woman who are incapable of keeping up with me.”
James was nine-and-twenty years of age, but the last six years of being a Duke and his sister's guardian made him feel a good deal older. Weariness made his bones heavy, and Rebecca did not help with her frivolity and mischief. He just didn’t know what to do with her anymore. Still, it was not all bad. He had a lofty title, wealth. He was also handsome, according to the ladies who flirted with him nightly. Though of average height, he had an athletic build. His years of fencing made him lean and contoured with muscles in all the right places and handy with a sword.
His hair was a rich coffee brown and always perfectly groomed, and he wore stylish sideburns. Like his father before him, he had green eyes often remarked upon for their unusual hue. He thought they made him stand out, just the beginning of his uniqueness. He had a good head for numbers and he adored reading scholarly works, though fanciful literature had never really attract him.
However, he found himself occasionally lonely and sometimes pondered taking a wife. But he consistently and quickly put that thought out of his mind. After witnessing the terrible lack of faithfulness in his parents’ marriage, he shied away from commitment and often feared that his baser urges made him just as bad as his father. His poor mother had been destroyed by it, and though he loved his father, the late Duke had not been particularly remorseful for his many indiscretions. Besides, there was Rebecca to look after, and she was his priority. Marriage would have to wait if it came at all.
“What am I going to do with you?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes as he shook his head. “As if I don’t have enough to do with running the Duchy, I now have to search for another companion for my wild sister!”
Rebecca shrugged. “Again, that’s not my problem, is it? As my guardian, these things are your responsibility, are they not? Besides, I have never asked for a companion; it was you who deemed it necessary.”
James sighed again. Sometimes it felt as though his sister enjoyed making his life as difficult as possible. She was undoubtedly unruly, and she steadfastly refused to abide by the strict rules of society as she saw fit. She even rejected the notion of marriage, claiming she had no need for a husband to take possession of her person and life.
Such a ridiculous notion!
He didn't begrudge supporting her, but he hoped to find someone who could love and protect her in a way he couldn’t. Finding her a match would be nothing short of a miracle, though, not least because she did not want it, but also because she invariably scared them away with her reckless nature and outlandish ideas. James really did have no idea what to do with her.
At ten-and-eight years of age, she’d was a beautiful young woman with a lively spirit. She was lithe and slim, and she had skin like alabaster. The green of her eyes was a shade lighter than that of her brother, and her sunkissed brown hair fell around her face in bouncy curls. She knew she was attractive and played on her beauty, teasing the men James had picked as potential suitors until they fell for her, flirting coyly only to turn them away as soon as she knew they wanted her.
She was quick-witted and animated, and loved to laugh above all things. James adored her as his baby sister, but that adoration did not temper his exasperation at her conduct.
“These things may be my responsibility,” he replied, speaking slowly in an attempt to keep his irritation in check. “But that doesn’t mean you should deliberately frighten away every woman I hire to teach you how to go about in society. I have quite enough to do as it is.”
“Deliberately frighten?” she repeated, seemingly offended by his words. “I don’t deliberately do anything. I am just me, and I refuse to let anyone change me—especially not for the arbitrary rules of the ton. Besides, I have no need of a teacher.”
“Of course you have need,” he snapped. “Someone has to guide you.”
“I don’t need—”
“And to chaperone you at the very least! For goodness’ sake, Rebecca, you know this as well as I do. You are merely acting stubborn for the sake of it, and I cannot understand it. If Mother were here, she would sort you out in a trice.”
“But alas,” Rebecca sang, tilting her head and smiling. “Mother isn’t here, so I guess you’ll just have to find a way of dealing with me instead.”
She skipped happily away, making James want to scream in frustration. No, their mother was not there, and James knew Rebecca didn’t even remember her. If she did, she would be more considerate with her throw-away words. The late Duchess had died unexpectedly, a short time after Rebecca was born. James had always suspected it was due to a broken heart brought on by his father’s latest romantic escapade with a French opera singer being bandied about town.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he called. “I’m not finished with you.”
He marched after her through the long corridors of Lornadale Manor. The walls were intersected with thick oak doors that had been intricately carved, each leading to a different room in the house. James had recently had the whole house redecorated, and now the corridors were lined with pale yellow silk adorned with subtle gray flowers and tiny birds. It served to both modernize and brighten what were once rather dull and dark spaces, but James would never alter those beautiful doors.
“What do you want now?” Rebecca asked over her shoulder. “Don’t you have to go looking for a new companion for me?” She grinned mischievously at him, and he shook his head, somehow still incredulous even though this behavior was nothing new.
“I want you to stop walking and listen to me,” he demanded.
Rebecca stopped suddenly though she didn’t turn around, and James nearly knocked into her!
“For goodness’ sake!” he snapped yet again, barely biting back the growl of annoyance he felt. “Do you like to see me so riled? Is that it?”
“Only when I know what you are going to say,” she said, smirking at him.
“And what, pray tell, am I going to say?”
She spun around to face him, twirling her hair and looking young and sweet. “Oh, just that the season has been disastrous so far—”
“To say the least,” he interjected. She nodded her agreement though she didn’t look like she much cared.
“And that if I don’t start behaving like a proper young lady, I shall never find myself a husband.”
“That is equally true,” he said.
She shrugged, then turned and marched off. James hesitated, astonished that she walked away from him yet again.
“I still have high hopes, though,” he called. “It’s still possible to find you a suitor who can—”
“I don’t need a suitor,” she shouted for perhaps the hundredth time that season. “I am quite content as I am.”
“Well, I am not,” James said, all his frustrations and irritations coming out in a bark. She must have noticed the emotion in his response, for she stopped and turned, looking at him steadily.
“I am genuinely sorry you are not content, Brother,” she said in a more demure, quieter voice. She seemed sincere in that, at least, and James felt himself soften ever-so-slightly.
“That’s something, at least,” he said with a sigh. “Listen, why don't we visit Aunt Martha for a few weeks. I believe she would like that.”
He didn’t just believe she would like it. He knew she would love it. Aunt Martha had great affection for her niece and nephew.
He didn’t just believe she would agree. He knew she would. He’d already written to her and made the arrangements. He saw the surprise in Rebecca’s eyes. She hadn’t been expecting that.
“Aunt Martha! What on earth for?”
“I suggest a little guidance from a true lady would serve you well,” he said. “You obviously are not faring well with the companions I am selecting. I believe you would benefit from the influence of an older, refined lady.”
“But Aunt Martha, of all people!” Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. “She’s an eccentric old bat.”
James could barely stop himself from guffawing at that. His little sister certainly didn't mince words, but she wasn't entirely off the mark regarding their aunt. “I thought you liked Aunt Martha,” he said.
“I do like her,” Rebecca replied.
“But I wouldn't have thought you'd deem her a suitable influence, seeing as she has never married. Are you certain you want a spinster to teach me etiquette?”
“She’s certainly eccentric,” James admitted. “And indeed, she never married, but she does understand what is required of a young lady, and she knows how society works. She will help you learn how to behave properly. How to navigate the ton. And perhaps, by the next season, you will be civilized enough to attract and keep the attention of a worthy suitor."
Rebecca pushed her bottom lip out in a pout, making her look ten years old again. “But I don’t want to learn how to behave like a brainless debutante. I like who I am.”
“Regardless, we’re going,” he said firmly. “Whether you like it or not. We’ll spend the summer at Chidswell Manor. At the very least, you can enjoy the country air, ride your horse or… take up painting outdoors, or some such ladylike pursuits.”
And, with a bit of luck, Aunt Martha’s decorum will rub off on you.
“But—”
"You'd best begin packing. I will send an express to Aunt Martha to alert her of our plans. We will leave at first light tomorrow," he informed her, raising his eyebrows to warn her not to protest further.