Of Dukes and Deceptions Page 5

  The music came to an end and all eyes turned to the duke, seeking his approval. He stood up and applauded, even though Alicia knew he hadn’t listened to a single note. He made a few complimentary noises about the composer but couldn’t be drawn into complimenting the musicians themselves.

  Whilst he was thus engaged, Alicia, not caring how rude it appeared, seized the opportunity to escape.

  Alicia’s precipitate departure went unobserved by all, with the exception of Nick. He was surprised by her determination to escape him. But not fooled by her strategy. Her disinterest in him had to be a sham and, by turning away, she’d cleverly succeeded in increasing his interest. During the course of their earlier conversation he’d observed the battle she was waging with her own emotions. The girl was hopeless at dissembling and her thoughts were easily interpreted. She’d decided to take him in dislike and was already having a difficult time sticking to that resolve.

  Nick sighed softly. Without Alicia’s presence, the room felt empty and he’d never been so bored in his life. He forced himself to attend to Maria’s breathless chatter, and it was after midnight before he could escape.

  In a filthy temper he threw open the door to his chamber, shrugged out of his coat and tossed it at Gibson.

  “Bad as that, was it?”

  “Worse.” Nick wrenched off his neckcloth and flung it on the bed with considerable force. “The next time I take it into my head to accept an invitation from a total stranger, don’t let me do it. Lock me in my room. Have me committed to Bedlam, if you must, but for heaven’s sake stop me doing anything rash.”

  Gibson chuckled. “I did try to tell you.”

  “Yes, and I should have paid heed.” His waistcoat went the same way as his neckcloth. “We’d best see what Woodley wants to talk to me about and cut our visit short, before I do anything I might regret.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Gibson scratched his ear with considerable vigour. “But wot about Alicia Woodley? Did she make it bearable?”

  Nick responded in a lackadaisical drawl. “To some extent.”

  Gibson’s features arranged themselves into an expression of elaborate circumspection. “Then surely you won’t wanna leave here before you’ve tamed her?”

  “No, of course not. We have a wager, if memory serves.”

  “Aye,” Gibson said with a world-weary sigh. “That we do.”

  “There you are then. I’ll bring Miss Woodley to heel, which won’t take long, and then we’ll get away.”

  “Oh, aye.” Gibson eyed his master askance. “Set the wheels in motion, have you?” When Nick again hesitated, Gibson guffawed. “She’s ain’t interested, is she?”

  Nick was in the process of pulling his shirt over his head, affording him an excuse to avoid responding.

  “Well, bugger me, it seems you’ve met your match at last. I knew that gal had spirit the moment I laid eyes on her. If I’m any judge, all yer wealth and superiority won’t cut any ice with her.”

  “Nonsense! She’s no different to any of the others. She’s half in love with me already, even if she doesn’t realise it yet. She won’t hold out for long.”

  “My God, just listen to yerself. Anyway, I ain’t so sure about her being able to resist you. I reckon she’s got yer measure. If you’re that set on getting away, I’m still willing to release you from our wager.”

  “That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

  “Pride goes before a fall, guv’nor, just remember that.”

  “Did you find out anything interesting about the stud?” Nick changed the subject.

  “Yes and no. The grooms are very careful wot they say but I got the impression that some of ’em—the older ones who were here during Miss Woodley’s father’s time—aren’t too happy about the way things are run now.”

  “In what respect?”

  “Well, that’s just it, they won’t say. It seems a bit odd. You know how grooms usually like to gossip. There’s obviously a big demand for Hanoverians, given the number that were slaughtered on the battlefields, and that stallion of theirs is supposed to be the best around.”

  “True. The thought of seeing him has kept me sane this whole evening.” Well, that and the prospect of bedding Alicia Woodley, but Gibson didn’t need to know quite how fixated Nick was becoming in that respect. “Is he covering all the mares sent to him?”

  “Aye, apparently so. That don’t seem to be the problem.”

  “Then what is?”

  “I don’t know.” Gibson’s expression turned reflective. “Maybe there ain’t anything wrong. It’s just an impression I’ve formed.”

  “I see.” Gibson’s impressions were usually pinpoint accurate and Nick didn’t push him for a more rational explanation. “Gibson, why don’t we pre-empt our host and have a look round by ourselves tomorrow morning?”

  “When the grooms are attending to their early-morning duties and won’t be expecting us?”

  “Yes, if they’re hiding something, we stand a better chance of finding out what it is without our host there to distract us.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll wake you at six then, shall I?”

  Nick groaned and dismissed Gibson with an abrupt nod.

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t see anything wrong with the setup,” Nick said when they’d been walking round the barns for over half an hour the following morning.

  “Well, nothing’s immediately apparent. But if they’re covering something up, it’s hardly likely to be on open display.”

  “I suppose not. Mind you, we haven’t seen the stallion yet.”

  “He’s in that barn over there.”

  The two men headed in that direction, still alert for anomalies. They passed a large paddock with a series of obstacles dotted round its perimeter. A lad was jumping a superb black horse over them. He was riding bareback but his control of the large animal was intuitive. Nick knew an exceptional horseman when he saw one and stopped to admire the exhibition. Only as horse and rider passed their position did Nick realise with a jolt that it wasn’t a lad on the horse’s back.

  It was Alicia Woodley.

  She halted beside them and slid elegantly to the ground before Nick could offer to assist her. She was unkempt, slightly breathless, her green eyes sparkling as a result of the vigorous exercise. A strange sensation assailed him. She wasn’t trying to impress him—which in itself was impressive—and made little effort to disguise her annoyance at his intrusion. Nick scowled at Gibson’s raucous chuckle. On the rare occasions when a person didn’t kowtow to Nick as a matter of course, Gibson greatly enjoyed the experience.

  Alicia patted her horse’s sweaty neck. She was dressed in breeches and an ancient shirt. Her hair was contained—more or less—beneath a cloth cap. Long strands had escaped and framed her face in a disorderly tangle. How Nick could have mistaken her for a lad, even at a distance, he was at a loss to explain. His eyes lingered, enjoying the sight of her breasts struggling against the fabric of her shirt as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

  “Good morning, Your Grace. Good morning, Mr. Gibson.”

  Gibson ineffectually tried to smother his surprise. People rarely noticed him when he was in Nick’s company. And if they did happen to acknowledge him, they certainly didn’t bother to address him by name.

  “Good morning, miss.” Gibson doffed his cap.

  “I didn’t realise you were an early riser, Your Grace.”

  She made it sound like an accusation.

  “Is there any reason you should be privy to that information, Miss Woodley?”

  “None whatsoever. I can assure you that your routine is of no interest to me whatsoever.” She spoke with a casualness that bordered on discourtesy, concentrating upon stroking her horse’s muzzle and barely sparing a glance for Nick. “I merely wondered if a specific requirement had caused you to rise so unfashionably early.”

  “I thank you, no. Your aunt has made me entirely comfortable. I merely desired an early glimpse
at Shalimar and,” he added, looking at the horse she was holding with open admiration, “I’m not at all disappointed.”

  “Oh, this isn’t Shalimar.”

  “Then who—”

  “This is Fabian.” She planted a soft kiss on the horse’s nose. “And he’s all mine.”

  “Yours?”

  “Indeed yes. My father and I bred him but I’m his owner.”

  “Then you’re very fortunate, Miss Woodley.”

  “Thank you.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “I think so too.”

  “Does Fabian stand at stud here?”

  A shadow passed fleetingly across her eyes. “No. My uncle doesn’t require his services. You see, he has a few flaws.”

  Nick suppressed a chuckle. Why was he not surprised? He’d seen for himself the hotchpotch collection of animals she favoured and couldn’t imagine her being content with a Hanoverian that didn’t excite her compassion. He looked more closely and realised immediately what the problem was. Too much white. An overlarge and irregularly shaped white star and two hind white stockings. But worse, as the horse shifted its position, Nick noticed a large speckling of white beneath its mane. At first glance he’d mistaken it for sweat.

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said, following the direction of his eyes. “Fabian’s colour is all wrong. We’re not entirely sure how that happened, but since Shalimar’s his sire, we could only surmise that the fault lies somewhere in his dam’s history.”

  “That would explain it.”

  “Indeed, but the owner of the mare wouldn’t accept it and refused to pay our fee.”

  “And so you kept the foal.”

  “Yes, and seeing how attached to him I’d become, Papa insisted upon registering me as his owner. That was just a few months before he died,” she added, her eyes clouding at the recollection. “And so I was left with a stallion no one wished to introduce their mares to.” She lifted her shoulders. “All I could do was break him and keep him as a pet.”

  Nick was tempted to ask why she didn’t have the horse gelded. But it was too delicate a subject to discuss with a young lady. At least in public. But when he was next able to snatch a few words with her in private, perhaps he’d introduce it then. His lips twitched at the prospect. Such a discussion could only lead in one direction. As good a means as any of commencing her erotic education. She might know a great deal about the workings of a stud farm, but he was willing to wager she knew nothing whatsoever about human procreation. And it was high time that situation was rectified.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I ought to put Fabian back in his stall before my uncle realises I’ve been riding him. He doesn’t approve, you see.”

  “Why ever not? It’s apparent you have complete command of the horse.”

  “Thank you but my uncle doesn’t share that view. He fears for my safety and I wouldn’t add to his concerns by openly defying his instructions.”

  “Which is why you are reduced to riding in secret before anyone is abroad.”

  “Quite so, and, er…”

  “I certainly won’t mention that I’ve seen you, Miss Woodley.”

  “Thank you.” She inclined her head. “I’m indebted to you.”

  Indeed you are. “Not at all.”

  “My uncle thinks I should trot sedately about the estate, using a sidesaddle, if you please. And take a groom with me for safety’s sake.” Her derisive expression made it clear precisely what she thought of that suggestion. “But it won’t serve. Fabian must be exercised properly or he becomes irascible, and he doesn’t care to have anyone but me on his back.”

  The thought of Alicia astride his own body sprang to Nick’s mind. He really would have to find a way to spend time alone with her later in the day and move their relationship forward. It was fast becoming a matter of extreme urgency from his perspective.

  Gibson was clearly having trouble keeping his glee in check at the way Alicia was treating him so dismissively. Nick would never hear the end of it if he failed to win her favours. But that was unthinkable. He was the Duke of Dorchester and he always got what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was this disrespectful female, compliant and biddable, sprawled beneath him and completely at his mercy.

  “It will be a relief not to have to act in subterfuge when I remove to the village.”

  The sound of Alicia’s voice brought Nick’s attention back to her. “To the village, Miss Woodley?”

  “Yes. When I gain possession of the inheritance left to me by my mother, I plan to move to a small cottage. Fabian and Matilda will come with me, of course. They’re such good friends and wouldn’t take kindly to being parted. They look rather incongruous together, I suppose, but if I don’t care about that, why should it concern anyone else?”

  Nick smothered a smile at her fiercely defensive attitude toward such unlikely equine companions. “Why indeed?”

  “I couldn’t bear to leave either of them behind, you see, even though my uncle has kindly given leave for them both to remain here. I have two paddocks attached to the cottage I plan to take. They’ll just have to be good enough for you, eh, Fabian, even though the accommodation is far less luxurious than here.” The horse whickered and nudged his head against Alicia’s shoulder. Nick glowered at the animal, jealous of his close proximity to the women he was now more determined than ever to possess. “You see, he understands what’s required of him perfectly. He’s very intelligent.”

  “So it would appear.” Nick regarded her face, still slightly flushed from her exertions. She was clearly anxious to be rid of him but he had no desire to curtail their conversation and sought to learn more of her future plans. “Does your uncle wish you to leave Ravenswing Manor?”

  “Oh, no, he’s most anxious for me to stay. But this is his home now and I’d only be in the way.”

  They’d reached the stallions’ barn and Will materialised to lead Fabian in. Nick would have liked to follow him and catch a glimpse of Shalimar but Alicia turned in the opposite direction. Good manners dictated that he turn also and escort her back to the house.

  “Thank you, Will. Have Matilda harnessed to the gig in half an hour, if you please. I shall go to the school as soon as I’ve attended to my patients.”

  “Very good, miss.”

  Nick fell into step beside Alicia. Gibson dropped back a few paces.

  “I’m glad we chanced to encounter one another this morning,” she said. “There is something of a delicate nature that I wish to say to you but I’m not entirely sure…”

  She blushed and paused for so long that Nick took pity on her. “It’s perhaps something to do with your cousins, Miss Woodley?”

  “Indeed. You see, when they suggested that you drive them…oh, dear, I don’t know quite how to say this—”

  “You wish to warn me to be on my guard because in all probability your cousin Maria might somehow manipulate the situation to her advantage.”

  “You knew that,” she cried indignantly, “and yet still let me embarrass myself by—”

  “Let’s just say that she won’t be the first lady to have attempted it, Miss Woodley.” Nick was aware of anger and acute embarrassment flashing through Alicia’s eyes. “But I thank you for the warning nevertheless.”

  “You’re quite welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Nick opened the door to the barn they’d just reached. “Is this your animal hospital?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’d like to see how my rabbit is progressing.”

  “I don’t have the time to spare at the moment. I must do my rounds and then make my way to the village.”

  Nick was momentarily speechless. He was accustomed to people falling over themselves to accommodate his requests, however trifling. Impossible as it might seem, he must now face the possibility that Alicia’s distant manner was no ruse. She really didn’t care for his society. Since he didn’t usually give a farthing for people’s opinions, he was unsure how to go about cha
nging the mind-set of one very stubborn young lady.

  “Quite, and so I won’t detain you now.” He held the door to the barn open as she passed through it and offered her his most intimate smile. If she noticed, she chose not to respond. “But perhaps later you’ll have the goodness to oblige me.”

  “I dare say you’ll be occupied with my cousins all the morning and with my uncle after luncheon. I doubt an opportunity will arise.”

  “Opportunities can be created, Miss Woodley, if the will is there.”

  At last she lifted her eyes to his face and held his gaze. “What is it that you really want of me?”

  He lifted his hand and gently traced the line of her cheek. She flinched when his fingers made contact with her skin but didn’t pull away. “What I want is you,” he said quietly, “and I think it only fair to warn you that I always get what I want. Eventually.”

  He dropped her hand and forced himself to walk away.

  Alicia stood rooted to the spot for several protracted minutes until he disappeared from view. Her mind was in turmoil, her body on fire with a pulsating need she was at a loss to identify. Only as the absurdity of her situation struck home did she force her feet to move into the barn. But getting her brain to concentrate on the tasks that awaited her was less easily achieved, and her thoughts continually returned to her spat with the duke. She shook her head in dismay. A few flirtatious words from an admittedly attractive gentleman and she was all but wilting with desire to know him better. She tutted aloud, waiting for the feeling to pass and common sense to reassert itself.

  What did he mean by creeping about the stables at such an early hour? His unexpected appearance had flummoxed her and she had probably failed to treat him with the deference he considered his due. Alicia smiled. Too bad! She cherished her precious time alone with Fabian and resented his intrusion. He’d promised not to reveal her secret and she was sure he’d keep his word. But what would he expect from her in return for his silence? Somehow she knew there’d be a price.