Fit for a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Read online

  ‘Nothing.’ Ezra nodded to a lone horseman who had just left the stables. ‘Leave it to me, Clio. I will not have you putting yourself in danger. Besides, since Brennan has not been invited to this party, there is nothing you can do.’

  ‘Foolish man! We have already agreed that he doesn’t carry out the murders himself. He will have someone here to do it for him and I will notice anyone watching you. A servant, perhaps, or even a fellow guest. No one will suspect me, but the guilty party will be watching you like a hawk. Perhaps even now.’ She instinctively glanced over her shoulder. ‘Who was that, leaving the stables on horseback? You have someone following her?’

  ‘I put someone to watch the stables, expecting an uninvited guest. I did not anticipate that my mother’s passions would drive her away at such an hour,’ Ezra replied in a grim tone. ‘But at least we shall soon know where she has gone and if we have correctly guessed whom she meets with.’

  ‘Could you not just confide in her?’

  Ezra took his turn to emphatically shake his head. ‘We do not have the type of relationship that invites confidence. Without definitive proof, my mother will simply say that I am imagining things. I wish she was right, but I doubt it. Besides, her affections are engaged and she would probably run to Brennan and tell him of my suspicions.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, slipping her hand into his. Ezra gave it a reassuring squeeze and did not release it again until they reached the terrace.

  ‘We should go in separately,’ she said. ‘People will notice.’

  ‘People can go hang themselves!’ Ezra replied impatiently, tired suddenly of keeping up appearances.

  The opening stanza of a waltz struck up. Without giving her the opportunity to object, he pulled her into his arms, swung her through the doors and into the ballroom. She gasped but then laughed as her feet followed his, as light as air. Her floral halo had slipped again, a fitting tribute to her unorthodox character, and this time Ezra didn’t bother to set it straight.

  ‘Everyone is staring at us,’ she chided. ‘They think you have taken leave of your senses, which of course you have, as well as offending just about every other young lady in the room.’

  ‘I enjoy giving offence. It is one of the few pleasures I take from this wretched dukedom.’

  ‘And you know you are safe with me, I suppose,’ she added, ‘and that I will not read anything unrealistic into a simple dance. After all, I am not fit for a duke.’

  Ezra smiled at her simple logic as he swung her into a turn, conscious of his cousin Silas watching them with a scowl on his face.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clio felt dizzy for reasons that had nothing to do with the manner in which Ezra whirled her around the floor, holding her firmly in his strong arms as the rest of the gathering looked on with varying degrees of astonishment. Lady Walder, she couldn’t help noticing, struggled to hide her disdain. Ezra hadn’t danced all evening, and had finally chosen to take to the floor as a waltz, the opportunity for a gentleman to hold a lady closer than was respectable, struck up. Ezra was holding Clio too close, much too close, and quite deliberately so, she was absolutely sure of it. Why he felt the need to make such a public declaration she had yet to decide. Be that as it may, barely an inch separated their bodies and her skirts constantly tangled with his legs as a consequence.

  ‘You do realise that we are the only couple dancing,’ she said, following where his feet led. ‘And that Lady Walder assumed it would be she whom you would invite to waltz.’

  Ezra grunted. ‘Lady Walder is a fantasist.’

  ‘Perhaps, but she would enjoy showing off whereas I dislike being the centre of attention—or fodder for the gossips, for that matter.’

  ‘You make a delightful centre of attention.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! But I have never waltzed in public before.’

  ‘Where did you learn?’

  ‘In my aunt’s drawing room. Adele was my partner but I am taller, so I had to take the man’s part. Don’t be surprised if I try to take the lead.’

  Ezra laughed. ‘Nothing you do would ever surprise me.’

  ‘Now Captain Salford is glaring too. I hope he doesn’t attempt to cut in.’

  Ezra’s expression hardened. ‘He is welcome to try.’ The grip of winter left his eyes as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Let’s give him something to glare about.’ His arm tightened across her back and he pulled her even closer.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ she cried, laughing.

  ‘I did not take you for a coward.’

  ‘If it was only myself I had to consider, I would gladly join in your capers, but I would not for the world disappoint my aunt, or give rise to baseless speculation. My aunt has been so very kind to me, and you know very well that you only have to smile at a lady for the speculation I would prefer to avoid to abound. I am well aware that you are being whimsical, playing them at their own game, if you like, but they don’t know that and probably think you have taken complete leave of your senses.’

  ‘In which case, it is they who lack wisdom.’

  His eyes gleamed with an unfathomable emotion as their gazes clashed and held. The manner in which his expression softened as he issued some sort of unspoken challenge brought with it an air of expectancy that heightened her perceptions and produced an involuntary rush of desire that pooled deliciously in the pit of her stomach. She felt as light as a summer breeze in his arms, capable at that moment of conquering the world. Ezra Delaney—the glamorous, albeit reluctant, Duke of Wickham—found something to admire in her. There could be no denying it. His eyes did the talking for him and that knowledge filled her with a heady feeling of invincibility.

  Other couples had joined them—Beth and her Mr Adcock, Adele and Lord Fryer amongst others—and Clio felt the moment of intimacy slipping away.

  ‘Your determination to protect your aunt’s feelings does you credit, and I would not have you disappoint her. It is I who shall be a disappointment, since marriage to her daughter is out of the question.’

  ‘Yes, I can quite see that it would be a mésalliance, and I think Beth will be relieved. At least she tried.’

  ‘Relieved?’ He affected mock affrontery. ‘I am not an ogre.’

  ‘Well obviously, I know that…’

  ‘He laughed. ‘You keep me honest with your plain speaking.’

  ‘I am glad to oblige. And as for respecting my aunt, it is easy to be grateful to her when one has been passed around between relatives like an inconvenient parcel. I firmly believe that my Welsh family only took me in because they were paid handsomely by my trustees who were also my official guardians to do so. My aunt is paid too, of course, although nothing that vulgar is ever discussed between us. However, I am perfectly sure that she would have taken me anyway. She has a soft and warm heart and has made me feel as though I am doing her a service rather than the other way around.’

  ‘I am glad that you are comfortable and well protected here.’

  Comfortable was the last thing that Clio felt at that moment. Being envied by all the young ladies in the room was an alien experience, but not an unpleasant one. She felt reckless, willing to pretend for the duration of the dance that the duke had chosen to stand up with her for reasons that had nothing to do with their having joined forces to rout a would-be killer. She had recognised desire in his expression moments earlier, but now wondered if she had got it wrong and like any red-blooded male he had been temporarily overcome by a suffocating bout of lust.

  That happened a lot, according to Beth, who claimed to know something on the subject but was hazy as to how she came by that information when Clio and Adele questioned her. Ezra admired her determination to put aside her embroidery in an effort to help him but Clio had yet to decide if he took her seriously insofar as his search for a murderer went. Part of her suspected that he regretted confiding in her and was pretending to include her just so that he knew what she was up to and could watch over her.

  It was all so confusing
.

  Common sense was restored to Clio when she reminded herself that Ezra needed her, whether he realised it or not. Men handled sensitive issues in an all-guns-blazing way. Ladies could be more subtle and ask questions or observe out of character behaviour at gatherings without being suspected of ulterior motives. If someone here had been sent with murderous intent then it stood to reason that they would be nervous and act irrationally. As a student of human nature, Clio would study the main suspects and take note of their behaviour.

  She did not know any of the guests well enough to be able to decide whether they were acting irrationally, she conceded, but hopefully something would give them away. It wasn’t as if Ezra could keep watch over his cousin without raising suspicions, or Salford either. Clio shuddered at the thought of being anywhere near the man she despised, and yet for Ezra she would make the sacrifice.

  She felt hot and cold all over when she recalled the brazen manner in which she had slipped her hand into his as they walked back to the house. It had been an impulsive gesture of sympathy that he’d probably misconstrued. Anyway, it was all his fault that she had acted in such a forward manner! He was the one who had commenced intimacies. She had been convinced that he intended to kiss her when he’d pulled her into his arms in the orchard and her disappointment when he failed to do so had been absolute, which made the hand-holding episode that much harder to comprehend. She didn’t want to seem desperate, or to make him think that she was…well, offering herself to him. God forbid that he thought she would be free with her favours.

  The dance came to an end long before Clio was ready to be released from his arms. She dipped a graceful curtsey, hoping that her legs would still support her without the strength of his arms holding her up and asked him to excuse her. She had monopolised his company and would not continue to cling.

  ‘You are leaving me unprotected?’ he asked, feigning terror.

  Clio smiled. ‘You are perfectly capable of fending off a few harmless females.’

  ‘You overestimate my courage.’

  ‘Foolish man!’

  She was still smiling as she walked away and didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know that he would be surrounded by hopeful aspirants for the next dance. Clio was careful to avoid the part of the room where Salford lay in wait for her and instead settled in a corner, partially concealed by a convenient pillar that gave her a good view of the room but behind which she could hide if necessary.

  A quadrille had formed up. Clio chuckled when she noticed that Ezra hadn’t been persuaded to participate.

  ‘Miss Benton, may I have the pleasure?’

  Clio started violently at the high-pitched voice accosting her. She had been so taken up with watching Ezra that she hadn’t realised anyone had approached her. She abruptly turned and was confronted by Ezra’s cousin, Silas Conway. She couldn’t decline, and anyway he was a prime suspect in the murder plot. It would be useful to get a better idea of his character—a character that was a long way removed from the foppish individual he made himself out to be, she was willing to wager. And so she offered him both her hand and a smile.

  ‘Are you sure it’s wise for you to take to the floor, sir?’ she asked solicitously. ‘Dancing is a tiring business and I have heard it said that your health is not good.’

  ‘It is true that I have a weak constitution and must take the greatest possible care,’ he replied, ‘but I am capable of performing a simple quadrille without sapping all my strength. We all of us have a duty to fulfil our social obligations.’

  ‘I am relieved to hear it,’ she replied, wondering why the man had sought her out, although she could harbour a guess. She was the first woman here in whom the duke had shown interest, somewhat dramatically by waltzing with her. Mr Conway probably thought she was unsuitable and was no doubt planning to give a full account of her to the dowager duchess.

  If dancing with Ezra had been a joy, she was paying the price now. Mr Conway was heavy on his feet, clumsy and made several wrong turns without appearing to realise it. He had already stepped on her toes twice.

  ‘My cousin appears to enjoy your society,’ he remarked when the dance briefly brought them together.

  ‘You seem surprised,’ Clio replied in an arch tone.

  ‘Not surprised, merely interested. The duke is in great demand.’

  ‘That is hardly to be wondered at. He is, after all a duke, as well as being handsome and eligible. Any ambitious lady in search of a husband will turn in his direction.’

  She swirled away from her miserable partner and smiled at the gentleman whom she now faced.

  ‘Are you one such?’ Mr Conway asked when they came together again.

  ‘That is none of your affair.’ She paused. ‘Is the duke aware that you take it upon yourself to vet any lady he smiles at?’

  ‘His lady mother trusts my judgement.’

  ‘Which is no answer at all,’ Clio replied, not bothering to point out his error when he again moved in the wrong direction, narrowly avoiding a collision with the lady behind him.

  She sensed a steely resolve, a cunning about the man that defied his supposedly weak character and allowed herself to wonder if he really could be the assassin. Outwardly, he was the one with the most to gain.

  ‘What will happen to you when the duke marries?’ she asked capriciously. ‘His duchess will manage his household. Presumably the dowager will make way for her, which will leave you redundant.’

  Mr Conway narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I am sure I shall continue to make myself useful to her grace. She depends upon me.’

  ‘Where is she now, as a matter of interest?’

  ‘Upstairs, enjoying a respite, I dare say. I’m sure she will return directly.’

  It was an outright lie, delivered with all the panache of an accomplished liar. There was a malevolence about the man that truly disturbed Clio. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to secure his own future, she sensed, or to remove anyone who stood in his way. He must be aware that Ezra disliked him and would not tolerate him indefinitely, but was he capable of committing cold-blooded murder?

  When the dance came to an end, Clio was no nearer to having reached a decision.

  She thanked him with minimum civility, wondering if she had passed muster in his eyes. Absolutely sure that she had not, especially since she had made no effort whatsoever to hide her disdain for the horrible man. She walked briskly away, still unsure what he had hoped to achieve by dancing with her.

  Not looking where she was going, she had forgotten all about Captain Salford and almost walked straight into him.

  ‘Careful!’ A hand shot out to steady her and lingered on her bare shoulder. Clio was repulsed by his touch and shook his hand free.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, attempting to walk past him, but he blocked the way with his body.

  ‘Well met, Clio. Do me the honour.’

  ‘No, thank you.’ She again tried to pass him but this time he caught hold of her arm.

  ‘That is not polite.’

  ‘Nor is your refusal to accept my disinclination for dancing. I don’t want to stand up with you, Captain, and have no intention of putting myself through that particular torture. My toes are already black and blue, thanks to Mr Conway’s efforts.’

  ‘Ridiculous child! I will not step on your toes.’

  ‘No, you will not, since you will not have the opportunity. Does that make my feelings on the matter plain or would you like me to speak a little louder?’

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I do so enjoy the thrill of the chase. It has been a while since I encountered any resistance. But know this, the more you deny me, the more determined I become to change your mind.’

  Clio laughed contemptuously. ‘And they say chivalry is dead.’

  He tightened his hold on her. ‘I want to talk to you.’ He tried to steer her towards the terrace but she dug her toes in.

  ‘You’re hurting me,’ she said, raising her voice so that it could be heard above the m
usic and laughter. Several heads turned in their direction and he instantly released her.

  ‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘The violence of my affections sometimes makes me forget my own strength.’

  She shook her head, conscious of her floral headdress slipping to one side. She had told Daisy it was bound to happen, but her maid had insisted and Clio didn’t like to curtail her talents. ‘If you will not let me be then I shall retire to my room, where even you would not dare to venture. Really, you are being horribly tiresome.’

  ‘I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,’ he said, sighing.

  ‘Come to what?’ she asked, her suspicions aroused.

  ‘Your father made his wishes regarding you and me very apparent before his death. He wrote them down, in fact.’

  ‘Nonsense! He would have told me.’

  ‘Would he? Perhaps he intended to, but there was no time.’ A calculating light shone in his eyes. ‘Perhaps he did but you would prefer not to admit it because you have set your sights too high.’

  Clio bridled. ‘You insult me, sir!’

  ‘My apologies. I know you are not dishonest and I accept that your father didn’t have time to express his wishes to you in person. However, I have his letter. I will have it delivered to your room and you will see for yourself.’

  ‘Even if what you say is true—’

  ‘You doubt my word?’ he asked in a tone of mild reproach.

  She looked up at him with hostility. ‘I do.’

  ‘My, but you are outspoken.’

  ‘For which you only have yourself to blame. If you had come here without first implying to Lady Fletcher that there was an understanding between us, I would have received you in a more civil manner and listened to your declaration, even though it is unlikely that anything would have persuaded me to accept it. Not even your assurances of my father’s approval.’ She paused. ‘If indeed he did approve of you. I hear tell that you and he were not on the best of terms immediately before his death.’