Desperate for a Duke Read online

  “Except for his ankle,” Violet added.

  Lady Everly frowned at Violet. “Be that as it may, I now regret not having you ride as much as your father wished it. You must have a gentle mount to display your best capabilities. I shall ask Lady Endervale which horse she would suggest.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Heather said dutifully. She doubted the duke cared about her riding abilities, but a ride with Fallon meant getting away from the house, just the two of them...and a groom.

  She couldn’t wait!

  Chapter 10

  Fallon requested a horse of gentle temperament for Heather and instructed his own horse to be saddled. He was in the drive inspecting Heather’s horse when Lord Rigsby and Lord Draven galloped up the drive, slowing as they came to the portico.

  “Morning, Calder. Going for a ride as well?” Lord Rigsby asked jovially.

  “Yes, my lord. I am escorting Miss Everly on a ride to evaluate her capabilities. The duke is a horse enthusiast.”

  Draven snorted. “Putting her through her paces, so to speak?”

  Fallon cut him a glance before returning his attention to his horse. “So to speak,” he said gruffly.

  “That is a fine specimen you’ve got there,” Rigsby went on. “Is it yours?”

  “It’s one of the many fine specimens the duke keeps in his stables.”

  “Really?” Draven said with interest. “And he lets his steward ride them?”

  “Maxim needs to be ridden daily. I am one of the few the duke trusts to see to his care. The duke always travels with him,” Fallon said, resisting the urge to snarl at Lord Draven.

  “Very interesting.” Draven dismounted and handed his reins off to a groom. He approached Maxim and ran a hand down his neck. “Stunning,” he said with admiration. “The spawn of Sir Ewan and Anastasia. A Clydesdale and a Tersk. I read about him in the paper last year.”

  Fallon hid his surprise. “That’s correct, my lord.”

  “An exceptional animal and extremely rare. How did the duke come by him?”

  This Fallon could answer easily. “The duke owns a castle in Aberdeenshire that borders the farm where Maxim was sired. He is indeed one of a kind, and the duke is acquainted with the breeder.”

  “Wallace, yes. I’ve had the privilege of meeting him myself. Can’t understand a word he says, but he has a gift with horses.”

  “Ah, the Scottish brogue is music to my ears but comparable to screaming cats to others,” Fallon said in a deep Scottish burr.

  Rigsby and Draven both looked at him in surprise.

  “Are you a Scotsman, Calder?” Rigsby laughed.

  “Not by birth, but I spend quite a bit of my time managing that estate. It rubs off,” Fallon said in perfect aristocratic English.

  Draven remained silent.

  Fallon ignored him. “If you will excuse me, my lords, Miss Everly will be here momentarily.”

  Rigsby and Draven moved into the house. Fallon waited until they were past the foyer before entering, just as Heather was coming down the stairs. She wore a riding habit of deep gray, like the color of thunderclouds, and her hair was tamed into a knot below a jaunty hat. His mouth went dry as she caught sight of him and smiled.

  Fallon lifted Heather to her horse then mounted his own. They rode out of the drive without speaking, followed by a maid at a respectable distance. The day was overcast, the clouds brightly lit from behind by the sun. They rode east toward the rolling hills, passing pastures of sheep and tenant cottages. The plant life was still dormant and brown, but it had its own beauty in the way the dew-covered grass shimmered, and spider webs glistened with diamond droplets. The trees were still bare, branches reaching toward the sun like hands and arms of drowning sailors.

  Fallon shook himself, damning Draven in his mind for his ability to unsettle him and get under his skin. And what’s more, Fallon still didn’t understand Draven’s motives. He didn’t know what they were, but he was sure he had them. He would have to watch him very carefully, lest he try to steal Heather for himself.

  Fallon rallied his good humor, slowing his horse so Heather could pass him and watching the way her hips rolled with the gait of the horse. She was an adequate rider, as most Englishwomen were, but she should have more confidence with the reins. They raced over the first hill and down again, where a small valley of grass and a stand of trees lived in secret. They raced past the trees, quail scattering in alarm, and Heather laughed.

  The sound was music to his ears. Climbing another hill, they slowed at the top and looked out over the valley that housed the village and the main road back to London. They rode their horses down the hill where the grass was thicker and gave way to forest. Their horses left dark prints on the wet ground, and the air was musty with earth and nature.

  Heather looked back and frowned. “We lost our chaperone.”

  “She’s having tea with her sister, I’d imagine,” Fallon said. “She stopped at one of the cottages we passed where her sister lives.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “The few times I’ve been in the kitchens, she talks of nothing but her sister and her soon to be niece or nephew. She was easy enough to bribe. Her sister is with child, and she was desperate to visit with her.” Fallon shrugged.

  “I’m not sure that was a good idea. She could get in trouble, or we could find ourselves—”

  “Or none of those things could happen, and we can have a lovely ride in the country. Relax, Heather. Enjoy the silence, the smell of a new morning. Look at that tree.” He pointed behind her.

  Heather turned and looked. It was a giant oak, its lower limbs as thick and wide as a horse. Fallon rode over to it and dismounted. Heather followed and he lifted her down, throwing their reins over a bush.

  “This is perfect for a fort,” he said eagerly.

  Heather turned wide eyes to him. “A fort?”

  He laughed. “Haven’t you ever been in a treehouse?”

  “No,” Heather returned. “You say that like it’s odd. I can assure you, I’m not the only woman who hasn’t.”

  “Perhaps young ladies do not have the desire to climb trees as boys do.”

  “Far fewer bones are broken that way.”

  He held out his hand. “I promise you won’t break anything.”

  Heather looked around in astonishment. “We are not going to climb this tree.”

  “We are.” He snatched her hand from her side.

  “Fallon!” she squealed and swatted at him. “Mr. Calder!”

  He bent and lifted her over his shoulder. This time Heather screamed.

  “Put me down, you’ll drop me!”

  Fallon chuckled. “Nonsense. Keep still.”

  He wrapped one arm around her thighs, used the other to grab a branch, and stepped up. It was no great feat. The bottom of the huge limb was scarcely higher than his knee. She clung to his back, not an unpleasant sensation, and gasped as he stepped up onto the branch.

  “I’m going to set you down now. It’s very wide and sturdy so have no fear that you will fall, and if you do, only your vanity will be damaged.”

  An irritated huff was her response.

  He slowly bent forward and set her down, keeping one hand on a branch above, and one on her hip. She flung her arms out for balance and slowly straightened. Meeting his eyes, she grinned at him.

  “It’s a whole new world of possibilities, isn’t it?”

  “The possibility of breaking my neck?” she teased.

  He acknowledged that with a nod, and then his smile changed. “The possibilities are endless.”

  Heather felt the initial warm rush of excitement fill her, but then she fully registered what he’d said. Endless possibilities. For her, there was no such thing. She reached up as he did and grabbed the branch for balance. His hand fell away from her hip.

  “That isn’t really true though, is it.” It was a statement, not a question. She wanted to enjoy this morning. It had started out so perfectly, but there was a niggling
of fear growing inside her.

  His brow dipped in a frown. “What’s on your mind, Heather?”

  She wanted to say the duke, but that felt like a betrayal. However, if she was being honest and said him, he would reach for her again, and she couldn’t have that. Her heart couldn’t handle it. This day had started so wonderfully, and yet, here she was ruining it with rational thought. “I can’t help feeling as though I’m doing something wrong, Fallon. I feel guilty.”

  “You could do nothing worthy of guilt.”

  “I’ve kissed my future husband’s steward, twice now.”

  “Three actually, but I kissed you first.” He smiled.

  “I can’t help the way I feel, not about you and not about the duke.”

  That silenced him. Heather looked away. He was quiet, but she could feel his eyes on her.

  “How do you feel about me, Heather?”

  Her pulse skipped. How was she to answer that, when she didn’t understand it herself? “I don’t know. Yesterday, you said you wanted to woo me, and that sounded like a splendid idea…at the time, at least.”

  “Yes, but why did you agree?”

  She still couldn’t look at him. It was easier to answer him that way, without being drawn into his eyes, and inevitably, into him. “Because I’ve never been wooed.”

  “You don’t have any feelings for me?”

  Heather closed her eyes. This conversation was so dangerous for her. “I do.”

  “Because I’m handsome and younger than your duke?” he said, his voice strained.

  Heather cringed. She felt like the worst sort of person. “No. It is because you are thoughtful and kind. Your smile warms up the room, and you carry yourself with such confidence and strength that all I want to do is take shelter against you. I am losing myself to you, but I know nothing good can come of it. No matter what I feel, or what I want, there is only one choice, and it isn’t even a choice for me. I must marry the duke.”

  “You honor me, Heather,” he said.

  There was such a powerful emotion behind the way he said it that Heather was more afraid than ever to look at him.

  “Don’t be honored. I am a fool.”

  “Then we are both fools. Why not be foolish together?”

  Suddenly, he was beside her, one strong arm pulling her against him. Heather let him pull her close, resting her head against his chest and painfully enjoying it.

  “Just for today, Heather, only this tree will bear witness to our foolishness.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. Right now, this tree is our world, and we are the only two people in it. No one else exists here but us. I won’t be able to attend the ball tonight, so I have selfish reasons of my own for keeping you here.”

  Heather looked up, her eyes wide as they met his. “The ball? I had completely forgotten.”

  “I haven’t. I won’t be able to dance with you,” he said as he looked down into her eyes and leaned closer.

  Heather closed her eyes, knowing he was about to kiss her, and she couldn’t deny him. If this tree was their entire world, then there was no reason to. He kissed her softly and slowly.

  “Do you hear that?” he said as he pulled away.

  “Hear what?”

  “Raindrops on the leaves. We have to return.”

  Heather nodded. He jumped down from the limb and lifted her down. They hastily remounted and rode away from their tree. Heather looked back wistfully, before turning and galloping up the hill behind him. It was still only sprinkling lightly, but that could quickly change.

  By the time they reached the stables, they shoulders and thighs were slightly damp. The rain was still misting, but the cloud cover had grown thick and ominous.

  “So much for our afternoon,” Fallon said in disappointment.

  “What did you have planned?”

  “Rowing on the lake.”

  Heather raised a dubious brow.

  Fallon laughed. “Do you find fault with my methods of wooing?”

  “Shhh!” Heather looked around in fright.

  “Forgive me, Miss Everly. Do you find fault with my methods of interviewing?”

  “No, I’ve no complaints, but the lake is quite visible from the house.”

  “And the weather does not agree with my plans. I’ve been meaning to hear you play, Miss Everly. Our next meeting shall take place in the music room,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

  Heather looked around and saw the groomsman waiting to assist them. The poor maid was soaked through and waiting to be relieved of her chaperoning duties.

  “Very well, Mr. Calder. I shall meet you in a quarter hour.”

  Fallon nodded, dismounted, and led Heather’s horse to the mounting block so she could dismount. He escorted her to the house, and they parted ways without so much as a glance at each other.

  The entire time, Heather’s heart had raced with panic. How long had the groomsman been standing there? What did he hear of our discussion? Those thoughts spun inside her like a windmill, slow and consistent. Her stomach was knotted uncomfortably by the time she reached her room and rang for a maid to assist her. She was a horrid person—a wanton, deceitful woman—who was toying with the name of her family all for the way a handsome young man could make her feel. It all felt wrong, until she looked into his eyes, and then nothing felt more right. What was she going to do?

  Chapter 11

  Heather arrived at the music room and found not only Fallon but also a few of the other guests enjoying its purpose. Lady Karen was tinkling away on the pianoforte, and two of her followers stood beside the instrument, handing out compliments.

  Heather was both disappointed and relieved. With others about, she wasn’t going to forget herself. They would serve as a reminder of her true purpose for being there. She schooled her expression to one of mild interest and entered the room. She greeted Lady Karen and her minions, and then turned to Fallon, who had set the harp near a chair where he waited.

  “Try not to outshine her. Her glares could freeze boiling water,” he said low enough so only Heather could hear.

  Heather fought not to smile. The result was an awkward twitch of her lips. “I’ll do my best, Mr. Calder.”

  She took her seat and strummed her fingers along the harp. It was perfectly tuned. “What would you like me to play?”

  “Anything that suits you.”

  Heather’s temper flared to life. She didn’t like that he was behaving so casually when others were about. “Does the duke have a favorite composer?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I am partial to Mozart myself.”

  Heather kept herself from glaring her annoyance and instead turned to the harp. Lady Karen finished her piece to the applause of her audience of two and turned her attention to Heather.

  “The harp? How quaint. I myself played with such an instrument as a child. Please let us hear you play, Miss Everly,” she said in mock sweetness.

  Heather gave her a passable smile, and then focused on the strings. She tuned out everything but her hands and the harp. The first notes were quiet, a tentative touch on the cord, and they whispered out like smoke. With each touch, she grew stronger, the sound calming her and the familiar movements soothing. She had played this song more than she would care to admit. Something in it spoke to her, touched her heart, and made feelings pour from her that she didn’t always understand. She always played it alone, but now she would play it for him, and somehow that seemed fitting.

  Her heart beat in time with the thrum of the notes, heavy with longing. She yearned to close her eyes, but she was afraid if she did, she wouldn’t be able to control the emotions that would be apparent on her face. She couldn’t let go of the little control she had left.

  * * *

  Fallon consciously kept his hands relaxed on his knees and his face impassive, but he could already feel the dampness of his palms and the rapid staccato of his heart. He had never heard anything so hauntingly beautiful. W
atching her hands move across the strings with such passion made him aware of his own arousal. He struggled to take a deep breath and cool his blood. He looked across at the three ladies, and they were equally entranced. The harp had never been an instrument he admired. He likened it to wind chimes, light and airy, incapable of producing music with any real emotion and reverberation.

  He had been so wrong.

  He felt each note low in his stomach before it vibrated up to his heart. He did everything in his power to look unaffected.

  * * *

  Heather swallowed down the swell of emotion that threatened to overcome her. She regretted her choice of music, but it was too late. She was too consumed by it now, too close to deny how it brought to light her own tangled emotions. The constant surge and withdraw, the lightness he made her feel, and the darkness she felt when she wasn’t with him. She closed her eyes briefly to relieve the sudden pressure in her eyes and bit her lip. She entered the second part, allegretto. The tempo increased and with it, her breaths. But the lightness never lasted long, the good slipped away too quickly. That was life, and she understood that now. She was chasing a dream—a fantasy. As quickly as it had come, it would be over. She was now into the third part, presto agitato. It was dark and dreamy, bold in sound, forceful with the truth of reality.

  She blinked away tears and stared at the decorative carving on the harp’s pillar. She reminded herself she was only moments away from finishing the last chords. The peaks were rising victoriously and falling softly, over and over again, until the summit was reached. Softly again, the notes fell to earth, gently and quietly, like whispers once more, and her fingers grew still. She exhaled shakily and looked up at Fallon. He was staring at her intently, and then he wiped his face with one hand and the expression was gone.

  Lady Karen and her minions applauded her, offering awkward praise, much to Heather’s surprise.

  “Well done, Miss Everly,” Lady Karen said with a rare show of sincerity.

  “Thank you, Lady Karen.”