All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) (22 page)

Allegra drew in a slow breath and dragged her gaze away from her smiling parents. She would be pleasant, but she knew there would never be closeness between them.

In truth, Allegra didn’t know what to make of all of it. She should have been terrified by the horde of onlookers, but Nicholas was behind her, his towering strength there for her. The Duchesses Hunt, Darkwell, and Blackburn were laughing and eyeing Allegra as if she and Nicholas were the most marvelous things they had ever seen.

Allegra had her doubts given the amount those ladies had witnessed, but she could feel their happiness and that only added to her own.

The duchesses’ presence and obvious approval had virtually guaranteed the night’s success as well as her own crowning as a society diamond.

The night was exactly as the other duchesses had claimed. Nicholas was her great defender and she would be his. In fact, she’d had to send Nicholas off for a time so that she might negotiate the waters of the
ton
by herself.

A lady reached out with her fan, drawing Allegra’s attention. “A triumph,” she declared. “You are a triumph.”

Allegra grinned. “You are here!”

Mrs. Godwin smiled. “I am, indeed. Much to my own astonishment. I think my husband is quite agog that he is in attendance. He knows not whether to lecture against the excess or to take the cooler tack and argue for his causes.”

Allegra laughed. “Either way shall prove most interesting.”

“Have you given our conversation any thought?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“I think—“

Just then Nicholas slipped behind her and touched her waist. “Duchess, might I have a moment of your time?”

“You may. But first, may I introduce Mrs. Godwin?”

Nicholas’ eyes lit with admiration. “Madam, a pleasure. I’ve read your work and do hope you will be gracing us with a new volume soon.”

“It is my hope, though there seems there is never enough time.” Mrs. Godwin eyed Nicholas. “And how does marriage suit?”

“Very well, thank you. As long as my wife is content.”

“And what makes her content?” Mrs. Godwin challenged lightly. “Love everlasting?”

Nicholas grew serious. “Well, it would depend on what you meant by
love everlasting
, don’t you think? If you mean that of swoons and sighs, I do think my duchess would shunt me off at the first opportunity. If you mean respect, admiration, and support, then yes. I agree. Love everlasting will make the Duchess of Roth content.”

Mrs. Godwin smiled. “A very pretty answer.” She turned to Allegra and winked. “Don’t you agree, Your Grace? Now, I must find my poor husband before he’s undone by this crush.”

Slipping off into the crowd, Allegra felt a warm sort of joy fill her. She’d never heard Nicholas speak quite like that. She’d inherently felt that was his view. But she couldn’t be sure. Not until now. Not until he confirmed it.

“Do you truly mean that?” she asked.

Nicholas took her hand. “I do.”

She could barely hear his quiet tone over the hum of hundreds of guests conversing against the strains of the orchestra as the sounds washed over her. She’d never felt so totally alive or in the midst of such energy but she wanted to hear him. “Should we slip away for a moment?”

“No, I wish us to stay right here. Before all our guests.”

She looked back around at the varied, but merry, crowd. “It seems a success.”

“Did you doubt you could be anything less?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied honestly. “Especially when I chose to invite so many different people.”

“Ah. That was genius. For usually they have nothing to talk about but each other. Tonight? Earls speak with scholars and political activists bend the ear of those in the government. It is remarkable. I do think the wine has assisted the good humor.”

She grinned.

It was true.

Everyone who was not dancing was head to head in discourse as they drank copious amounts of champagne.

The various artists and thinkers she had invited were providing wit and new topics wherever they went. And except for a few stodgy fellows and their wives who had retired to either the card or refreshment room, the ballroom was full of excitement.

“Do you feel you have come into your own?” he asked, his face pensive despite the success of the night.

She stared up at him. It was not an odd question. She’d sensed his tension the whole night. Somehow, it had seemed that the ball meant more to him even than to her. She realized in that moment that it wasn’t about whether or not she was a successful duchess to him, but rather whether she felt as if she had found her place in the world as a person.

She smiled at him, longing to assure him. “I think. . . I think I am—“

“I need to say something first, if you don’t mind.”

He spoke so quickly and nervously that she fought a laugh. But then her humor died for she saw that there was fear in his strong face.

“Of course, Nicholas.”

“I love you,” he whispered against her ear.

Despite the noise, despite the exuberance of the night, she felt the world go still around her.

“I love you,” he said again. “I love no one in this world as I love you.”

She leaned back and gazed into the face she had come to hold so dear. She started to speak, but he lifted his fingers to her lips, apparently uncaring that their guests were beginning to go silent and stare at them.

“I was alone,” he said, his voice deeper than usual with emotion. He leaned back so he was looking into her eyes. “All my life, I was alone. My parents died when I was a boy and I became adrift. Now, you are my anchor in this world that is a sea of troubles and misfortune. I never thought I’d have that.
Never
. You have given me back love. You have given me back belonging.”

It struck her then that he was no longer speaking softly. He was speaking forcefully. Passionately. The whole ballroom had gone silent. Even the orchestra had stopped playing.

“Darling wife, fate has seen fit to give me an equal. A partner. One who will always be first in my life. One whose council will always be first.”

Nicholas lowered himself to his knee and took her hands in his. “In the eyes of the law, you are mine. . .But in truth, my love, it is I who am yours. I belong to you and you hold my happiness in your hands.”

Tears stung her eyes.

My God. Mrs. Godwin was right. What woman could be luckier than she? For here, Nicholas, her husband, a duke, was on his knees before his peers declaring her importance.

She had thought it so important that she have the trappings of freedom. But here, in this room, watched by hundreds of Londoners, her hands in Nicholas’, she knew that the world and its laws matter not a wit. The only things that mattered were their love for each other and their mutual respect.

So, instead of reveling with him at her knees, Allegra lowered herself to her own. “My partner, my husband, my friend, I love you. You have my heart as I have yours.”

“We belong to each other?” he asked, his eyes surprisingly bright.

In answer, she leaned forward and kissed him.

A round of applause thundered around them. It was as if every single person around them was full of love and joy that night and nothing could damper it.

In that moment, it couldn’t be denied. She and Nicholas were wrapped in all that was wonderful in a usually unkind world.

He cradled her face in his hands. “Are you afraid?”

“Of the future? Absolutely,” she said. “Thank God you are by side, no?”

“And you by mine, Allegra. And you by mine.”

A
llegra was always exhausted and sometimes, she was heartbroken. Fighting for her beliefs was no easy thing. In fact, sometimes she felt like lying down in the road of defeat. And then she’d lift her gaze to Nicholas and remember that when she had run out of strength, he would always have some to give her.

This morning though, she and Nicholas were triumphant. They had opened a house for outcast women and their children, too, if need be. The
ton
had come out in full force to lend their support and donate even more funds.

It was something. In a dark world, they’d lit a candle today and Allegra could not have been more overjoyed. . . Well, that was not entirely true.

There was one thing that gave her more joy. The greatest joy she’d ever known.

Juliana ran up and down the gallery, dragging a wooden toy puppy on wheels behind her.

The little girl’s red curls bounced boisterously as she laughed and tugged the dog along.

Allegra snuggled into Nicholas’ arm as they sat on a settee watching their child.

Unlike she and her sister, little Juliana didn’t play knights and maiden fair. Or practice at weddings. Perhaps one day, this little child would want to. But with Nicholas’ support, one thing was clear. This Juliana would never feel that marriage would determine her worth.

This Juliana would have the chances that her aunt never did.

“What are you thinking on, my love?” Nicholas asked.

“My happiness.”

“Which is?”

She laughed then tilted her head back and looked up at him. “My family, of course.”

“Family,” he echoed. A soft smile pulled at his strong mouth. “It is the greatest thing. . . When it is one like ours. Have I told you how lucky I am?”

“Not today.”

He pulled her against his chest then stroked a lock of hair back from her face. “Then I’d best do it, hadn’t I?”

“Only after I tell you how lucky I am,” she replied, loving the feel of his arms around her.

Sensing the affection between her parents, Juliana ran towards them and threw herself into their arms. Allegra held her family and closed her eyes.

Plans or no plans, rules or no rules, life had turned out far better than she ever could have dreamed.

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Did you Miss Books 1,2, and 3 of The Dukes’ Club?

Catch the snippets and grab the books!

Once Upon A Duke

Book 1

L
ondon

It is an accepted fact that a young widow, even a decidedly proper one, should not—absolutely not—knock on an infamous bachelor’s door. For such shocking action might result in the permanent eviction of said young widow from the society of all but Yorkshire sheepherders. Even so, Kathryn Darrell had decided that an entire life already spent rusticating in the country was significant reason to cause the largest scandal the Season had ever seen and she was going to do it with more panache than any other lady who’d launched herself into sin. So, without allowing herself to think twice, she lifted her chin and rapped on the door of Number Six Belgrave Square.

Kate drew in a slow, calming breath. She had every right to feel uneasy. Spending months planning her own debauchery was one thing; executing it was quite another. She resisted the urge to glance back at her footman, Gregory, who waited with the coach. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly upon the dark blue door. The particularly brawny servant would only be a shout away if she needed.

While she intended to be bold, she was no fool. She’d more than enough experience with foolishness. And everything was running in perfect accordance to her plans. Plans she’d been forming for months. She’d set an appointment under the anonymous name of one Mr. Braithwait. Fortunately, nothing interfered with her scheduled drive to the appointment. Now, she was about to set sights on the handsome butler who would lead her up to his far more handsome master. She would finally step into a world distant from unkindness and castigation.

Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. She stared at the beautifully carved double blue doors as if she could see who was on the other side.

A shattering crash echoed somewhere overhead, and just as she looked up to the first floor, the door swung open, exposing a tall rectangle of candle glow and the silhouette of a squat man.

Kate jerked her gaze back to the butler in the doorway and blinked. Handsome the man was not. Crusty. It was the only word that came to mind.

He peered at her silently. Tufts of his eyebrows jutted out over his myopic blue eyes. He blinked.

Kate waited, hoping to God he would say something. She doubted the words ‘I’ve come to bed your master’ would gain her admittance into the house, and suddenly she found that her lips were rather reluctant to carry out her plan. Kate mustered her most winning grin, the grin she used to coax rectors, stubborn sheep herders, and too tightly laced curmudgeons of both the male and female variety. “I’ve come to see His Grace.”

The butler coughed lightly, bringing his gloved hand to his lips. “No.”

Kate pulled back her chin before she could stick it too far forward, a terrible habit she’d never broken. “No, sir?”

“No, miss.”

“But—” Well, what a dratted nuisance! Couldn’t the fellow just let her in? What possible excuse could she give to gain admittance to the abode of her impending debauchment? “But I have an appointment!”

The Dukes’ Club

Book 2

Dreaming of The Duke

Slowly, Cordelia opened her eyes and realized he was staring down at her. His gaze was half closed with desire. “I want you,” he whispered. “Without reservations. Once. Just once.”

And oh how she wanted him. Her husband. It was such a cruel twist of fate that the man she suddenly desired more than any other man she’d ever met before was the very man who she should hate above all others. He had abandoned her, after all. Yet, her body refused to hate him. She said nothing, but lifted her hand and traced the side of his face, wishing he wasn’t so handsome, wishing that he didn’t make her feel so utterly alive in his embrace.

He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the striped pink silk chaise and lowered her so that she sat facing him. Easing her down, he knelt directly before her on the soft rug. His fingers flicked at the hem of her skirt as he held her gaze, his eyes ablaze with dangerous passion.