Mad About the Duke

Read Mad About the Duke Online

Authors: Elizabeth Boyle

BOOK: Mad About the Duke
12.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Elizabeth Boyle
Mad About the Duke

To Nicole Burnham, Laura Lee Guhrke
and Julia Quinn,
who all help keep the madness at bay
and who never fail to make me laugh.
Thank you, my dear friends.

Contents

Chapter 1

‘Tis utter madness,” Elinor, Lady Standon would have declared if…

Chapter 2

Elinor woke with a start the next morning. It wasn't…

Chapter 3

I wasn't on the bloody list,” James sputtered loudly as…

Chapter 4

If Elinor thought her plan to hire Mr. St. Maur…

Chapter 5

James arrived home in a flurry, calling for Richards and…

Chapter 6

You ordered my carriage without my permission?” Jack said in…

Chapter 7

So you know who I am, what the devil do…

Chapter 8

Elinor's hands froze on the rough wool of Mr. St. Maur's jacket.

Chapter 9

James found himself being ushered into a large room on…

Chapter 10

Elinor heard the jolt, the crack of the wheel. Everything…

Chapter 11

Tia, are you coming along or not?” Elinor called up…

Chapter 12

Lady Standon! Lady Standon! Hold up,” the wretched blackguard called…

Chapter 13

James's confidence could have used a bit of Elinor's fancies.

Chapter 14

Minerva shook her head, for she'd seen enough of the…

Chapter 15

Elinor would have followed James anywhere. But they hadn't gone…

‘
T
is utter madness,” Elinor, Lady Standon would have declared if someone had told her that in the course of an hour she would fall in love with a man.

And an ordinary one, as well.

The sort of love at first sight that poets and romantics and all other sorts of fanciful fools clamor about in rapturous tones and flowery phrases.

Impossible, she would have told them. And of course, she'd have been right.

Because one can't fall in love in an instant.

It happens much quicker than that.

Yet here she was, standing in the foyer of the house on Brook Street, where just a week ago the Duchess of Hollindrake had ordered Elinor and the other two Standon dowagers to take up residence…and she couldn't believe her eyes…couldn't stop the odd flutter in her heart.

But here? Now? And with
him
?

It was rather incomprehensible.

Falling in love was done at an elegant ball, in the rarified air of Almack's, or at a properly attended house party, not surrounded as she was by the peeling wallpaper and the general lack of fine furnishings that her new home afforded.

And not wearing her second-best gown.

Elinor tried to still her trembling heart, for if this burst of fire inside her was falling in love, it was hardly dignified. Then again, neither was the man before her.

This complete stranger was, quite honestly, the most handsome fellow she'd ever clapped her eyes on. Surely a man so sinfully endowed couldn't be a gentleman.

What with his sculpted features, raven black hair, and good heavens, his towering height…well, he quite took her breath away.

Just then, he managed to notice her, and bowed ever so slightly.

Elinor shivered, and it wasn't because she'd forgotten to close the door, or that he was utterly lacking in good manners.

No, it was the remembrance of what Lucy had said the other night.

That the right man could make a lady's nights heavenly.

Goodness knows, such a notion was easy to believe standing before
this
rakish devil.

Say something,
she tried to tell herself, stealing another glance at him.
You'll never discover who he is if you don't open your mouth
.

But even as she did so, forced herself to form the words of introduction, who but her younger sister Tia came dashing down the stairs, all aflutter, an oversized apron covering her gown.

“Oh, Elinor, thank goodness you're home,” the girl said in a rush. “Isidore is having her pups, and I fear she is having a time of it. I know not what to do!”

Puppies? At a time like this?

“Neither do I,” Elinor admitted. “Oh, poor Isidore!”

And they both turned to the stranger in the foyer.

Suddenly it occurred to Elinor who he might be—the solicitor Lucy had asked the Duke of Hollindrake to send over, but the man hardly had a townish look to him, not with that wretched jacket and, good heavens, was that a black eye he was sporting? How had she missed that?

Only Lucy Sterling would end up with some solicitor who milled about London with his fists!

But when she glanced at him again, she wondered how the other fellow had fared. Considering how tall this man was and the width of his shoulders, he seemed far too imposing not to be able to handle himself more than adequately.

Can you imagine those arms around you? Having him haul you right up against that wall of a chest and have him…

Those errant, stray questions shocked Elinor out of her reverie. “Sir, have you any experience with dogs?” she managed to bluster.

“Pardon,” he said in a rather haughty manner.

Well, he needn't be so high in the instep, she mused. After all, he wasn't much above a steward. And nor should he stare at her so.

For it sent a warm shiver down her spine. Had her imagining all sorts of scandalous things…him pressing her against a closed and locked door…his lips encased on hers…

“Isidore?” Tia prodded.

Oh, yes, Isidore and the puppies. Elinor shook herself once again and got back to business. “Dogs, sir. Have you any experience with dogs?”

“Yes, of course,” he said in that haughty manner of his.

She paused and waited for him, like Sir Galahad, to leap to her aid. Hadn't he been listening? Was he going to make her ask?

Apparently so. Then again, she'd seen from that paltry bow he'd offered that his manners were utterly lacking.

“Would you mind assisting us?” she asked. “This is Isidore's first litter and she's one of the finest greyhounds I've ever owned.”

“I would be honored, my lady,” he said, nodding to her.

And as he looked up, met her gaze with his, Elinor's breath froze in her throat. Those eyes! Blue. Deeply, richly blue.

He gazed at her as if he was about to devour her, and Elinor shivered, even as a bit of a blush rose on her cheeks.

Goodness, whatever was the matter with her? Just because Lucy had fallen in love all over again with the Earl of Clifton and he with her, that didn't mean that she, Elinor Sterling, Lady Standon, was susceptible to such fairy tales.

She wasn't.

And certainly not with some solicitor or man of business or whatever this fellow was.

Not when I have my own problems,
she thought as she watched Tia hurry ahead.

Yes, yes, she had her own problems, and one of them
was finding a husband. Elinor shuddered slightly. She had no desire to enter into marriage again, but what else could she do?

Tia's guardianship would continue under the control of their stepfather unless Elinor married. And married well.

What she needed was to marry a duke. Nothing less would do.

She sidled another glance over her shoulder at the man close at her heels and swallowed back the sigh that rose from deep in her chest.

Now if a husband was to look like this fellow, she might even settle for a marquess.

Especially if he was as handsome. And tall. And…

She stumbled on the uneven steps and caught hold of the railing even as behind her, he reached out and took hold of her elbow with a grasp that was firm and supportive.

And delicious. The heat of his touch ran through her, leaving a trail of shocked astonishment in its wake. Elinor wondered if she was going mad.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she continued upward.

“You are most welcome,” he said in a rich, deep voice that sent more shivers down her spine.

Oh, good heavens, she needed to keep her wits about her. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to remember her place in Society. Her station. And his.

And the gaping distance between them.

They had reached the top of the stairs and there, before them, was the open linen closet with Isidore sequestered inside.

“Oh, my! This is a sight!” she exclaimed, for there
were three puppies already there, and another about to arrive. Tia had managed to get the new mother atop a pile of sheets and had curled a blanket around them all for warmth.

Elinor couldn't help but shudder at what Minerva, the first Lady Standon, was going to say when she discovered that her best linens had been used for Isidore's confinement. No, better she concern herself with the predicament at hand. And she didn't mean the puppies. For as she and this stranger knelt down to take stock of the situation, her skirt brushed up against
his
thigh, and they both glanced at each other.

Like the moment in the foyer when she'd first spied him, something flashed between. An intimate heat that went far beyond stations and respectability. Elinor nearly bolted to her feet, but something held her there.

A curiosity she found utterly irresistible.

“Here, let me take a look,” he said, his words reassuring and capable. Reaching out to adjust the greyhound, he spoke softly and kindly to Isidore, and the dog looked up at him with adoring eyes. After a minute or so, the next puppy arrived. “Ah, and there is another to follow.”

“Another?” Elinor gasped. The sheets could be replaced, but she had to imagine Minerva would be none too pleased over a house full of puppies. She got up and backed right into Tia.

“Who is this?” her sister whispered, as only a fourteen-year-old girl could—loud enough for all to hear.

“Lucy's solicitor,” Elinor told her, with a little more discretion. Even as she watched him help Isidore, she was struck by his kindness and bearing. He might
not be a gentleman, but he carried a sense of honor about him that couldn't be mistaken.

The sort of characteristic she wanted, nay, needed in a husband.

“Do you do business for the duke often?” she asked, an odd notion forming in the back of her head.

“Do I do what for the duke?” the man stammered, appearing every bit taken aback.

“Business,” she repeated. “You're a man of business, I assume. The gentleman Hollindrake sent over to sort out Lucy's troubles?”

After an interminable pause, he nodded slowly. “Why, yes. Yes, I am.”

“Excellent!” For this was exactly what she needed. The right man to find the right man. “Do you have any connections in Society?”

“A few,” he demurred, bowing his head.

Elinor nodded. “Might you be able to look into a matter for me?” she lowered her voice. “Discreetly, of course.”

“I would be honored to be of service to you, but I don't know who I am helping.”

Elinor took a breath and was about to make a proper, respectable introduction when, unfortunately, Tia beat her to the punch.

“This is my sister, Elinor, Lady Standon. At least for the time being,” Tia said, grinning. “Until she marries her duke.”

 

“Explain to me again exactly what happened,” Lord John Tremont asked the Duke of Parkerton an hour or so later.

For quite frankly, Jack was not entirely unconvinced that in the course of a few hours his normally staid and conventional (read: utterly dull) brother
hadn't finally succumbed to the legendary Tremont madness.

“I went over to the house on Brook Street as I promised—”

Of course he had. Parkerton had given his word to complete the errand, and as a man of honor, he would have done no less.

But what the devil had happened to him between White's and now?

“And then what?” Jack prompted from his spot near the ornately carved mantel that made the Great Room infamous. Of course nearly every room in the duke's town house had not only a name but also a legend attached to it.

With the Great Room, it was the mantel designed by Holbein and the chair in which old King Harry had once sat during a night of revels. The chair where Parkerton now sat as he always did, as if holding court.

The duke drew a deep breath. “I went to Brook Street and made amends to Lady Standon.”

“To Lucy?” Jack asked. There were three Lady Standons prowling about Society, and it wouldn't do if Parkerton had apologized to the wrong one.

“Yes, to Lucy,” Parkerton said with a bit of a shudder.

Oh, decidedly he'd met Lucy Sterling, brash minx that she was.

“Devilish bit of muslin,” the duke added. He shuddered again. “Is Clifton sure he wants that cheeky bit of baggage for his wife?”

Jack grinned. “He loves her.”

There was a moment of silence in the Great Room. One that might have been viewed two ways: one for
the loss of Clifton's bachelor state or a prayer for his future happiness with the indomitable Lucy Sterling.

But there it was. Parkerton had gone to Brook Street and apologized to Lucy for the trespasses Parkerton's former secretary had made to her father's estate, but still Jack took a wary glance over at his brother. He couldn't quite get over the fact that his brother, the esteemed Duke of Parkerton, now sported a black eye.

“Would you stop gaping at me!” Parkerton snapped. “I am well.”

“It is just—” Jack tapped his own eye in way of explanation.

Parkerton flinched. “Yes, yes, it is a bit disconcerting.”

“You should see it from this side,” Jack teased. Still, he couldn't help but add, “Are you positive that you didn't hit your head or perhaps—”

“Stop coddling me,” Parkerton said, sharply enough to send most men running.

But this was Jack, and he was used to his brother's high-handed manners. Besides, it was far more familiar than the statement that had started this interview.

The one that had Jack wondering if perhaps he shouldn't call for their Great-Aunt Josephine. She was mad as a March hare and probably knew the signs of having one go around the bend better than anyone else in the family.

Though most had assumed that Parkerton, having reached the age of forty and some years with his sensibilities still intact, would most likely remain free from the family blemish for the rest of his life.

As for coddling his brother…

“Demmit, Parkerton, you got floored. Knocked cold.”

In fact, his brother had been punched in the middle of White's by a rather irate Earl of Clifton. Then sent on the errand to apologize to Lucy, and now this…

Oh, the entire situation was such a long, complicated story that Jack wasn't going to waste his time trying to sort out all the details now. Not when he knew for certain he'd have to recount them all once again this evening to his wife.

“So then after you made amends to Lady Standon—”

“Just as Clifton asked.”

Jack nodded. “Excellent.”

“Then I returned the house in Hampstead to her that should have rightfully been hers, and further advised her to seek out the earl—”

“You advised her to go to Clifton?”

“It seemed prudent,” Parkerton averred.

Jack pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

“An impulsive creature, for certain,” the duke told him. “At the least bit of prodding, she went rushing off to find him.”

Other books

The Gifted by Ann H. Gabhart
Dear and Glorious Physician by Taylor Caldwell
Patrick by Stephen R. Lawhead
Breaker's Passion by Julie Cannon
The Charity by Connie Johnson Hambley
4-Bound By Danger by SE Jakes
The Hit Man by Suzanne Steele, Gypsy Heart Editing, Corey Amador, Mayhem Cover Creations
Blessed Fate by Hb Heinzer