Married to the Marquess (5 page)

It was not as though Derek meant to be so averse to London, for it truly was a city of much amusement and entertainment, he considered as he tipped his hat to a mother and her two daughters that passed. Their shared giggles and whispers at his actions brought a small smirk to his face as he jauntily continued on.

Yes, London had much to offer those who chose to visit or inhabit it. But there were two reasons that Derek ever ventured into London apart from his own amusement and responsibilities.

His wife was the first, and he had already dealt with her and had come out less scarred than he had predicted, which was always a pleasant surprise. The second was his father, the Duke of Ashcombe. That was his task at hand.

His father was a good man, and a rather well-respected one. His opinion was sought after in the highest circles, his fortune was rather extensive, and his heritage impeccable. For these reasons, the duke was unnaturally focused and driven on maintaining all appearances of respectability and accomplishing one’s duty.

This was not an issue for Derek, as he had a great deal of pride in his family. It did mean, however, that he came under rather close scrutiny from his father and much of the pressure in his life, what didn’t come from Katherine anyway, came from him.

It could not be completely construed as being the duke’s fault, as he had not come from the direct line, and due to the lack of heirs there, his grandfather had inherited upon the previous duke’s death. Many had believed that this particular branch of the family would never amount to anything more than a gentleman’s status, and not very wealthy ones at that. The doubts of Society had only fueled Derek’s great-grandfather, and ever since then, it seemed that the one task that was paramount for the family was to prove them all wrong.

It didn’t matter that it had been so many years ago that very few people even knew about it. The insistence on maintaining bloodlines and power, and garnering respect and admiration from all, was ingrained in every future duke’s mind from the time they were small.

Marriages were arranged to ensure that future heirs would have the highest breeding that England had to offer, because the very idea of a future duke marrying someone of their own choosing was enough to terrify the existing ones. And Derek had not been old enough to know what all of that had meant until he had already been well acquainted with Katherine, and had learned the importance of his duty.

And it was not until much,
much
later that he thought enough about it to resent anything.

With a sigh, Derek approached the grand London home of his parents, and faintly he wished that they were only his parents and nothing else, but wishing was fruitless at this point.

He knocked firmly, waited only briefly, and was then let in by the family butler, Wooster, instantly.

“Hello, Wooster, how are you?” he asked, handing over his hat and gloves.

“Very well, my lord, thank you.”

“How is your knee?”

The old man grinned. “Still there, I think.”

Derek laughed and clapped him on the back. “That’s a relief. You keep up with all of Mrs. Tabbit’s remedies and you may be challenging me to a footrace soon enough.”

“Yes, my lord, I think I shall.”

“Very good. I have come to see my parents, are they available?”

“They are, sir. I believe the duke is in his study.”

“Thank you, Wooster. I shall take myself down there. You go on and sit down somewhere,” Derek said with a smile as he left the entryway, knowing full well that the butler would do no such thing.

The door to the duke’s study was open slightly, but Derek knocked anyway. Rule number seventeen in this house growing up was
Always knock when seeking entrance
.

“Come,” the voice of his father was heard within, and he pushed the door open.

“Whitlock!” his father cried in surprise, a smile forming on his still relatively young face as he rose from his desk.

Derek bowed as perfectly as he had ever done. “Your Grace.”

He turned to where his mother sat, looking as regal as she always had, and still beautiful even after three children had grown. “Your Grace,” he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, Derek, it is so good to see you,” she returned, rising to give him hug.

“You as well, Mother,” he replied with a smile, giving a fond kiss to her cheek.

“What brings you to London?” his father asked as he came over to shake his hand.

Derek gave him an odd look as he took it. “Katherine’s mother passed away, sir. I should have thought you would have seen it in the paper.”

“Ah, yes, poor Lady Dartwell,” the duke said with a nod as he returned to his desk. “Do give our condolences to Lady Whitlock, will you?”

“I shall tell Katherine, thank you,” he said pointedly, which earned him a quirk of a brow from his father. “But will you not be paying your respects at the reception in two days?”

“Oh, I do not know that we…” the duke started.

“Ashcombe,” his wife broke in gently as she took her seat once more. “I think it would mean a good deal to Lady Whitlock if we went. And it would show respect for the family and for our son.”

The duke frowned slightly, then sighed. “Very well, then, my dear. We shall attend the services for Lady Dartwell.”

“If you wish, sir,” Derek said with an incline of his head.

“Now that you have come, Whitlock, I need your assistance,” his father said, indicating that he sit.

“Oh?” Derek asked, dreading the request that was forthcoming. “On what matter?”

“Your brother.”

Derek almost groaned and sat back. Of course the subject was going to be David. It was his father’s favorite topic to rant upon, as he thought David was the biggest wastrel to ever inhabit nobility.

“What has David done now?”

“It is what he is
not
doing!” his father bemoaned, looking rather troubled.

“And that would be?” Derek tried for a patient, concerned tone, but really, nothing David did was actually shocking to anybody except his father.

“He adamantly refuses to marry!”

That was surprising, even to Derek. He licked his lips slowly, then said the first thing that had come to mind. “Ever?”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “Are you amused, Whitlock? I can assure you, this is not a laughing matter.”

Derek straightened ever so slightly at his father’s stern tone, even though he was very much a grown man now. Fathers can have that effect on their sons. “No, sir, I am not amused. I was merely seeking clarification.”

His father still looked suspicious, so Derek forced any sign of amusement or humor out of his expression. Only then did his father continue. “He has not spoken of the future, but at present, he claims his only inclination is to enjoy himself.”

Quite frankly, Derek thought that was a very good idea. David was still young, there was hardly any need for him to be rushed off to the altar and bound to a woman for the rest of existence when he could be enjoying freedom of thought and purpose.

But Derek knew far better than to say any of this aloud, and arranged his features accordingly. “I see,” he said carefully, desperate to avoid saying anything he would regret with regards to either party.

“I do not think you fully grasp the severity of the situation, Whitlock!” his father said, his voice rising. “This is the future of the family we are speaking of here.”

“Ashcombe…” his wife warned, but he would not heed her.

“Unless Lady Whitlock provides you with an heir, David will inherit after you! Do you really want to leave the dukedom up to chance?” the duke asked loudly, his fist banging the desk.

“I hardly think that the timing is as important as the lady in question,” Derek tried, his mind working as fast as it could bear to. “Have you not arranged something for him?”

“No,” his father groaned, sitting back. “You were the only one we arranged a match for. Diana did well enough with marrying Lord Beckham, though I wish he was placed a bit higher than Bow Street.”

Derek did not comment on that, as he rather liked Edward and his choice of profession.

“But David could have his pick of any number of ladies in Society,” his father continued, growing more earnest. “We have drawn up a list of suitable candidates for him, and he will not even look at it.”

“A list?” Derek asked, feeling a little peeved. “You are not going to let him choose as you did Diana?”

“Why should I? Diana was not going to come into anything. She was a catch for any man of nobility, she did not need to do the catching.”

Derek didn’t think his sister would appreciate being likened to a fish, but then, he had no inclination to tell her.

“I think you should trust that David will do his duty when he is ready to take it on,” Derek said calmly, hoping he could smooth things over. “He has a good deal more sense than you give him credit for.”

“Are you saying that I do not know my own son?” the duke cried, his fist tightening.

That was exactly what Derek was saying, but there was no polite way to phrase it.

“What’s all the commotion in here?” came the drawling, unaffected tones of David, who entered the room without knocking.

The glare that their father offered David was one that would have made stone gargoyles cower and flee. “You must marry, David. Now.”

David’s brows rose in surprise. “Right this minute? But I’m not suitably dressed for a wedding.”

Derek had the bizarre urge to laugh, which would have gotten him shot, or worse.

The duke looked ready to explode, but somehow maintained his furious demeanor without variation. He looked to Derek, who couldn’t help but to swallow a little hastily. “Take care of this, Whitlock.”

He indicated with his eyes and his head that the two should leave, and Derek got to his feet immediately. David did not move. Derek looked to his mother, who said nothing, but her eyes had widened significantly. He turned back to his brother and took his arm. Thankfully, David responded to him, and in short order, they were out of the study and back to the relative safety of the rest of the house.

“Hello, Derek,” David said finally, with a wry grin, his green eyes that matched Derek’s in an almost eerie fashion twinkling. “Feels a bit like our childhood, doesn’t it?”

Derek couldn’t resist smiling just a touch. “A lot, actually, except for the topic.”

David nudged his head onward and they moved into one of the front drawing rooms, where each flopped into chairs. “I don’t know why he thinks I need to marry now.”

“Nor do I,” Derek admitted with a sigh. He hesitated, then asked, “You do want to marry eventually, don’t you?”

“Of course,” David said with a snort. “But I want to fall in love with the girl.
Before
I marry her. No offense.”

Derek waved it off. “None taken. I would have liked to do that myself.”

“And I don’t think I’ll care very much at all for what her bloodlines are, thank you very much,” David said in a grumbling tone. “In fact, I think I’ll fall in love with a merchant’s daughter.”

Derek laughed out loud. “That will really impress him. He might kill you.”

“He would never kill me, he thinks too much of the family.” David paused a moment, then said, “He might hire someone to kill me, but he would never do it himself.”

“Why do you intentionally provoke him?” Derek asked, truly curious. The duke was a powerful man, and a rather intimidating one. It hardly seemed a prudent thing to do, even for a rebellious son.

David shrugged. “Because I can. Because I am tired of him running my life. Because, despite what he thinks, he is not God.”

“He could disinherit you, you know.”

Again came the shrug. “Huzzah. Then I really would be free. I don’t mean to be his wastrel son that is always disappointing, but you must admit, you are the preferred son.”

Derek was shaking his head before David had finished. “I am the heir, nothing more.”

“And I the spare.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What? It’s the truth. Do you really think that if Diana had been a boy I would even be here?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Derek knew it was more than likely true. Their parents were companionable with each other, but never affectionate. And each had always been so focused on duty, honor, and family and blood that they wanted to force their children into similar tendencies.

Unfortunately, none of them were quite as determined.

“You are not a spare,” Derek said firmly. “You are my brother, and I will support you in whatever you do.”

David smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Derek. Now what about getting some decent food from that delightful chef our parents have employed, eh? I’m famished!”