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Authors: Renee Reynolds

Tags: #comedy, #historical fiction, #romantic comedy, #england, #historical romance, #london, #regency, #peerage, #english romance

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BOOK: Lord Love a Duke
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Jonas resolved immediately to win the boon
as if his very life depended on it. "Paladin, the victory must
needs be ours, old boy,” he panted, tapping his boot heels into his
mounts flanks. They began to gain ground rapidly and he moved into
the shallow water, surf and shingle flying, and edged past Juliet
with a few feet to spare. He laughed out loud as he heard her
French curse at losing fly along the breeze.

"
Merde!
" she yelled, but she was
laughing and smiling with delight. The two riders slowed their
mounts and drew alongside each other at a canter. "Your Grace, that
was fantastic! What a race!” she enthused. “And Paladin is a
majestic animal at full gallop!"

Jonas smiled and Juliet saw dimples appear
on each side of his mouth, lending him a boyish charm usually
missing from his serious countenance. His wind-tossed hair was
rakishly disheveled and his ice blue eyes were alive with an inner
light.

"Lady Juliet, I have not raced like this in
several years. It was exhilarating. You are an impressive
horsewoman. I can see why you prefer to ride astride. You are
remarkably in tune with your mount."

She flashed him a brilliant smile that only
enhanced her usual beauty. Her hair was a wild mess of wispy
tendrils haloing her face and his fingers ached to touch the loose
strands or tuck them behind her ears. Shimmering threads of red and
gold peeked out of her disheveled braid. She dismounted, retrieved
her bonnet, and wound the long rope of hair to tuck inside as
before. "I have been riding Herring, I mean Hera, for six years
now. We are in harmony with each other's movements. And I must
confess, we do ride on this beach as frequently as the weather
allows when my family is in residence. Had I been unfamiliar with
the terrain we would have been far slower." She picked up his hat
and returned it to him before easily remounting.

They rode back to the stables in
companionable silence, retaking the path up the low cliff to the
manor property. At the top, the Duke steered his mount over to the
benches stationed near the edge that offered breathtaking views of
the Channel. He dismounted and stepped over to help Juliet follow
suit. He spanned his hands around her waist and lowered her to the
ground.

"My lady, as I am the winner today, I
believe you owe me a boon." He held her firmly by the waist a few
moments longer than necessary, before releasing her and stepping
away.

She moved to stand near his horse, rubbing
Paladin's nose and nuzzling his cheek. Jonas felt a strange feeling
he would have described as envy if it were not so absurd to envy a
horse. She turned her gaze on him. "You are quite right, Your
Grace. I await your request." She dropped an exaggerated curtsey,
accompanied by a mischievous smile. "I am all anticipation," she
joked.

He took a moment to think over the myriad
options running through his mind, but found they were all options
of a sensual nature. Better not to do this wrong and put fear in
her eyes. In fact, it would be better to keep this new found
friendship strictly that, but she was too tempting by far. He found
himself unable and unwilling to be his usual controlled and
sensible self.

"I am trying to decide between two
requests." He looked out over the sea and inhaled a salty, tangy
breath of fresh air. He swung his gaze back to her face and studied
her classic profile. She felt his stare and turned to meet it.
"Would you like to choose between the two, or have me make the
choice?"

She studied his face before answering. He
looked far too pleased with himself. "As the winner I fear you must
make the decision, Your Grace, or else it would not be your
boon."

"Prettily said, but as both options would
please me equally I will leave the choice in your hands." He turned
to face her fully and picked up her hand. "Lady Juliet, as winner
of our most enjoyable race, I claim as boon either a kiss," he
paused at her quick inhalation of breath, "or that you henceforth
call me Jonas."

Juliet was taken aback by her choices. The
suggestion of a kiss was naturally shockingly scandalous, but to
call him by his first name would generate much speculation and
interest in others. She warred within herself as to which option
would cause the least upheaval. She could avoid addressing him in
most instances, but she felt quite certain the Duke would go out of
his way to force her to call him by name in effort to unsettle her
and force his victory. A kiss would be for one time only, and
ostensibly no one else need know.

"I believe I would choose the kiss,
Your
Grace
. Both requests are quite scandalous in themselves, but I
shudder to think what spasms and fits my poor dear mother would
suffer to hear me address one of your rank so informally,
regardless of the longstanding friendship between our families."
She threw him a cheeky glance. "And I feel certain you would force
me to address you ad nauseam to goad me into impropriety around
friends and family. Yes, I am certain. I choose the kiss."

Jonas was stunned, having felt sure she
would choose the option of using his name. He had not considered
the personal nature of the act as his own sister addressed Juliet's
brothers rather informally, even insultingly, if he were honest.
Juliet had never addressed him less than most formally. In fact, he
could not recall her ever having addressed him at all until of
late. He wondered briefly at the cause then recovered his
composure, deciding he was quite delighted with her choice.

"All that remains, my lady, is for you to
choose the time and place for your payment."

"Why, right here, right now is fine with me,
Your Grace
." She emphasized his title with a sarcastic bent
but he paid scant attention.

His brows rose in surprise but he was
pleased at the immediacy of her offer. He was as ready to receive a
kiss from this beautiful lady as she was evidently ready to bestow
it. He was mentally congratulating himself on his good fortune when
she stepped forward to give him his reward. She looked up at him
thoughtfully before speaking.

"I confess I usually feel too tall around
most gentlemen, often being able nearly to look them in the eye,
but you have me at a disadvantage with your superior height. It is
a refreshing change to be shorter than someone,
Your Grace
.
As such, I will need you to bend down slightly for me to reach
you."

Jonas heard the irony in her voice this time
when she spoke his title, but he disregarded it to enjoy this
moment in time. He felt his pulse speed up in an anticipation of
her kiss but he forced himself not to think too far ahead and just
enjoy the moment. He bent over, moving his mouth closer to hers
when she raised her hands and cupped his face. She looked into his
eyes and spoke. "Congratulations on a fine and exhilarating race,
Your Grace
." With those words she slid her right hand back
slightly over his ear and gently placed a kiss on his cheek. Her
lips lingered for a moment, long enough for him to feel their
fullness and softness mixed with the heat from her body. She
released his face and stepped back.

He straightened to his full height and
tilted his head slightly, pondering her chaste kiss and his
response to it. He felt permanently marked where her long and
delicate fingers had brushed his cheek and he could swear her
contact left searing imprints. He resisted the urge to touch his
face and instead schooled his features into what he hoped was a
benign expression.

"Thank you as well, my lady, for a wonderful
morning and gracious boon. I will see to our horses." He turned and
grabbed the reins to both mounts. He took several steps toward the
stables before tossing a final comment in her direction. "And do
use less sarcasm when addressing me, as you did choose to continue
using my title," he added with a devilish smile.

She laughed out loud at being called out for
her tease. "Of course, Your Grace." She curtsied and began to walk
back to the house. She could not refrain from testing out his other
option for her ears alone. "As you wish, Jonas," she whispered,
savoring the sound of his name in the air and its feel on her
tongue with a brow furrowed with heavy thoughts.

Chapter Thirteen
Nay, let me alone for swearing.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act 3,
Scene 4

Later that evening, following another
delightful supper, the party guests reconvened in the drawing room
for cards and conversation. Juliet was tired from the day's
exertions but she had a mission to act as Miranda's lookout while
her friend deposited the adulterated bottle of spirits in the
Duke's study. Juliet sat in solitude farthest from the fire,
observing the room from a chaise. A shadow passed over her and she
looked up to her left, into the face of the Duke of Dorset.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the space
unoccupied next to her on the sofa.

“Of course, Your Grace.” She slid a little
further to the edge to give his larger frame more room to sit. She
was inordinately pleased to find herself favored with the Duke's
attention and steeled herself to slow her pulse and steady her
body's shaky reaction to his presence.

"Lady Juliet, please forgive the
impertinence of my question, but I could not help hearing your
unrestrained shout upon losing our race. Poor manners, I know, but
curiosity demands I ask why you swear in foreign tongues?"

Juliet flushed scarlet but could not refrain
from chuckling, albeit nervously. "I will tell you, but it paints
me in a most unflattering light. Since the fact that I am swearing
does so as well, further damage would seem to be immaterial." She
flashed him a rueful glance and clasped her hands together,
twisting her fingers nervously. "In her efforts to help me achieve
a graceful and ladylike deportment, my mother made sure I
embroider, dance, and play a musical instrument, and I look forward
to running a household. My governess was also instructed to teach
me French. However, being the younger sister of two brothers, my
conduct was invariably shaped by their assorted pastimes of a
decidedly unfeminine nature, with both my willing and unwilling
participation, mind you. You have seen that I ride astride, and
prefer it mightily to the sidesaddle. I can out-swim both my
brothers. I am also quite a crack shot with a pistol. To this
shocking list I must also add cursing. It became a habit that
delighted my brothers but when unfortunately first displayed in
front of my delicate mother, caused an impressive fit of
flutterings and vapors." She paused here as the Duke laughed out
loud, unable to control his amusement any longer.

"Anyway, in effort to avoid that spectacle
in the future, I endeavored to cease cursing, but I found it a
harder habit to break than anticipated, especially when provoked by
my brothers. Remembering how fond my mother is of saying gentlemen
are fond of hearing ladies speak a foreign language, I made the
decision to swear in that fashion. So whenever a curse flies
unheeded from my lips in my mother's presence, she has decided that
I am just practicing my languages to impress a future husband.
Whether she truly believes this or not, I am unsure. It's perverse
and vulgar, I grant you, but it has appeased both our natures
rather well."

"Exactly how many languages do you speak?"
he asked, still chuckling.

"I speak four languages, but can read and
write only three of those." His eyebrows shot up at her admission.
"Do not be impressed, Your Grace, nor convinced you are conversing
with a bluestocking. My motives for learning were quite selfish and
not at all academic, and I am far from a linguist. I love music,
from étude to opera, and simply wanted to know exactly what the
composers had written rather than hearing a mere translation into
English. I was fortunate my governess had a gift for languages,
which worked to my everlasting benefit. We found familiar books in
foreign translations at Hatchards, which made it easier for me to
pick up the new language. Miranda even learned to speak Italian on
a lark so she would not be bored when forced to accompany me to
Covent Garden.” She paused and looked him in the eye. “And I also
found I needed to expand my repertoire of curses," she ended
saucily. She did not mention that several of the ladies in her
circle, specifically Lady Temperance and Miss Gates, could also
read and write in foreign tongues. It would not do to betray her
friends' educational tendencies either.

He watched Juliet with a look she could not
decipher, but for some reason made her flush and feel a warmth
diffuse over her. "I find myself equally appalled and impressed. I
am appalled that I can speak only French, and have been informed my
accent is atrocious. I am impressed that you have so many talents
and yet still seek to lift others before yourself. Most ladies
would go out of their way to flaunt their accomplishments."

"Yes, but most ladies can flaunt themselves
because they have worthwhile accomplishments. Mine are of a more
dubious, indelicate nature. To be sure, I am a most fearsome lady
of proper demeanor and etiquette; I am my mother's daughter, after
all. Yet I also like to think I could fight a duel quite
admirably.” She raised her hand in an affectation of firing a
pistol. “The former is much admired in a female; the latter is
absurd."

"I think you take some delight in shocking
others, Lady Juliet. You make no excuses for your predilections,
which is fine. I think you attempt to stun others into silence so
you do not have to hear exactly how another truly feels about
certain less ladylike qualities you possess."

Juliet quietly regarded the Duke, processing
his characterization seriously. Did she highlight her differences
in attempt to blunt their negative impact? Did she seek to be
different just for the shock value? Perhaps she had emulated her
brothers' masculine behavior too closely.

BOOK: Lord Love a Duke
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