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Authors: Suzanne Enoch

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BOOK: The Black Duke's Prize
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"Neville," he said, inclining his head to the baron before
bending to take Kate's hand and kiss her knuckle. "Katherine," he
murmured, then straightened. "Have I missed our dance?"

"Very nearly," she returned, and the waltz began.

The duke swept her out onto the floor. This time as they swirled about
to the music his expression did not become bored, and, rather than wander about
the room, his gaze remained on her as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry I
was so late," he apologized.

"It was quite dramatic of you," she returned.

"I truly intended to arrive less dramatically an hour ago," he
responded. "I had another meeting I couldn't break." He looked down
at her skeptical expression. "Don't look daggers at me, Kate. If you must
know, I and several others were asked to meet with Cousin Prinny and the prime
minister. The Marquis of Belning was there as well, so you can ask Reg if you
don't believe me."

"Cousin
Prinny?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow,

"Yes, of sorts. Didn't you know?" At her head shake he leaned
closer. "I am lucky thirteenth in line to the throne," he murmured.

"You're bamming me," she replied, eyeing him uncertainly.

"I am not," he protested. "Father and old King George were
second cousins, or some such thing."

She did finally believe him, though she had had no idea that the Duke of
Sommesby's very blue blood was that blue. "Well, m'lord, you've missed a
lovely evening," she said, conveniently forgetting the fact that she had
been irked at him for not appearing.

"I don't know about that," he returned. "Thomas looked
none too happy when I arrived."

"He says I'm the belle of the ball," she responded, more to
bait the duke than because she believed it.

Nicholas nodded. "Oh."

"Well," she prompted, annoyed, "aren't you going to say
anything nice?"

"Last time I tried to give you a compliment you gave me a
set-down," he drawled. "I'm not certain I want to risk it
again."

"Gammon," she retorted. "You don't want to give me a compliment
because you are the most irritating, selfish, provoking man alive."

He laughed. Katherine noted again that they seemed to be the center of
attention, and she frowned. "Oh, stop it," she muttered.

That only made him laugh harder. "And you still want a compliment
after that?" He chuckled, his eyes full of dancing green highlights.
"Well, then, m'dear, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art
more lovely and more-―"

"Don't you dare say it, Nicholas Varon," she warned, biting
her lip to keep the determined frown from sliding from her face.

He pursed his lips as though deep in thought, and then nodded. "I
think you're right. 'Temperate' does not suit you. 'Tempestuous,'
perhaps." He gazed down at her. "Or impossibly lovely, with eyes a
man could drown in."

The compliment, when it finally came, was so unexpected and so softly
said that for an instant she couldn't speak. "Well, perhaps I was "a
bit harsh a moment ago," she muttered, and he chuckled again.

At the end of the waltz he returned her to the Hamptons and greeted both
of them. The duke rubbed his hands together and glanced about.
"Katherine, would you like to accompany me on a drive to the country
tomorrow?" He turned to the baroness. "With your approval, of course,
Alison."

"And who would be escorting you?" her godmother asked, eyeing
him. "I won't have any scandal attached to Kate."

Nicholas shook his head. "Neither would I. I know my
reputation." His expression changed a little, making Kate wonder if
perhaps the infamous Black Duke wasn't as uncaring about his reputation as he
appeared. "I'll take Jack along. I've known him all my life, and I haven't
yet ruined anyone in his presence. Will that suffice?"

Her godmother nodded. "Your groom will be fine. If Kate wants to
go."

Feeling a bit left out of the conversation, Katherine looked back up at
Nicholas. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, I would love to."

 

She was coming down the stairs as Rawlins opened the front door to admit
the Duke of Sommesby. Kate resisted the urge to brush at her peach walking
dress, but couldn't help her smile as he approached the foot of the stairs and
waited there for her.

He took both of her hands in his and raised them to his lips. "Good
morning, Katherine. Am I permitted to say that you look lovely?"

He was baiting her, and so she nodded regally. "Yes," she
answered.

"You look lovely, Katherine," he repeated dutifully, continuing
to hold her hands in his long-fingered ones.

"Nick," Lord Neville said as he came out of the morning room.
He cleared his throat as he saw them standing together, and Katherine tried to
pull away. Nicholas tightened his grip in response. "Excuse me," her
godfather continued, "but might I have a word with you when you
return?"

The duke nodded. "Of course." He returned his gaze to
Katherine. "Shall we go?"

He took her shawl from Rawlins and put it around her shoulders himself,
then took her parasol and led her outside. They were to take the high-perch
phaeton, she realized with delight. A magnificent-looking team of matched
grays waited, held by a small, gray-haired man with a moustache and a pair of
merry, light-blue eyes.

"Do you like roast chicken?" the duke asked, helping her into
the high seat and then thumping the basket stowed behind her as he circled
around the rig and climbed up next to her.

"Yes." She nodded, watching as the groom released the horses
and stepped back. Nicholas touched the reins, and the team sprang forward. As the
rig passed by him, the groom swung up behind them, next to the picnic basket.

''This is our nanny, Jack," Nicholas told her, nodding in the
groom's direction.

"Good morning, miss," Jack greeted her, doffing his cap and
grinning.

"Good morning, Jack," she answered, smiling back at him.

The duke had to hold the team back the entire time they were in London,
and she couldn't help but admire his skillful maneuvering of the spirited pair.
She had heard the Black Duke could drive to an inch, and saw no reason to
disbelieve the claim.

As they left the city behind, the grays moved into a canter. There was
little traffic as they traveled through the green countryside, and Katherine
found herself smiling as they drove along. She had missed being in the country.

''There's a spot I have in mind," Nicholas said, "about an
hour from here." He looked over at her. "What are you smiling
at?"

She shrugged, looking back at him. "I'm happy," she admitted.

He grinned. "You are easy to please," he replied.

"May I try?" she asked, motioning at the reins and attempting
to take advantage of his good humor.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Have you driven before?" he
asked dubiously.

"I used to drive my father's team quite a bit before he was
killed," she answered. "He said I was good."

Nicholas glanced at the empty road ahead of them again and shrugged.
"Brace your feet," he advised, "or they'll pull you right
over."

She did as he said, and he handed over the reins. He was right; the team
was still fresh, and, seeming to sense a new driver, strained against her. She
braced her shoulders and kept the horses to a canter, enjoying their liveliness
and the feel of them responding to her light commands. After a league or so a
milk wagon appeared, coming toward them, but Nicholas sat back and crossed his
arms.

Katherine grinned and, determined not to embarrass herself by running
the phaeton into the hedge at the side of the road, clucked to the team and
guided it over to one side of the way. The wagon passed them without incident,
the driver doffing his hat to her.

"Your father was right. You're a fine whip." Nicholas
chuckled.

He let her drive until her arms grew tired, then took the ribbons back.
Finally he guided the phaeton off the road under a stand of elms. A short walk
from the lane, a small brook ran through a shady meadow. Jack climbed down and
went to the horses while Nicholas tied the ribbons and jumped to the ground. He
came around to lift Katherine down, placing his hands on her waist. His touch
made her feel breathless, and he held her longer than he needed, looking down
at her.

"Hungry?" he asked finally, and when she nodded he released
her and pulled the picnic basket off the back of the rig. She took his free
arm, and they walked through the lush grass to the edge of the water.

Nicholas set out a blanket in the shade and then sat cross-legged beside
her. He handed her two glasses and poured Madeira into them, then took one back
from her. "To a day in the country," he toasted, and she smiled and
clinked the fine crystal against his.

"And to a fine team of horses," she added, and he laughed and
raised his glass again.

Still smiling, he tilted the glass at her. "And to you."

He took a sip, looking at her over the rim, and then set the glass aside
to delve into the hamper. "Oh. This is for you," he said, and handed
her a small box tied with a bright-blue ribbon.

She glanced up at him suspiciously, then accepted the package when she
could read nothing more than amusement in his gaze. Carefully she untied the ribbon
and pulled off the lid. Seeing the contents, she burst into laughter. "You
remembered," she chortled, and lifted out a chocolate cream to pop it into
her mouth.

''Of course," he replied, chuckling as he accepted one of the
candies.

She watched as he prepared her a plate of roast chicken and handed it
over. "How often does the Duke of Sommesby go on picnics?" she asked.

He glanced up at her and shrugged in a very un-Black Duke-like manner.
"Not very often," he replied, removing his hat and jacket and setting
them aside.

"And why is that?" she pursued, trying not to focus her
attention on how dashing he looked in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves.

He shrugged again and grinned, taking a slice of peach and then offering
her one. "No challenge."

Kate didn't know quite how to reply to that, and so she took a moment to
remove her irksome bonnet and dump it on the blanket. "I take it, then,
that you find me to be a challenge?" she returned.

"I find you infinitely challenging," the duke responded.
"In fact, I have made it my personal quest to determine what motivates
you."

"I thought we had that conversation," she replied, blushing.
It was the first time he had actually intimated that he was interested in her,
that he found her more than merely amusing, as she had half begun to fear. Kate
glanced down at the gift he had given her and smiled, lifting it in one hand.
"Remember?"

He laughed. "I believe you did mention several other things that
were at least as important to you as chocolate creams." Nicholas glanced
down at his plate, and set it aside. "You said that your father had been
killed," he said quietly, his smile fading. "Do you mind my asking
what happened?"

She shook her head. "We had just come to London for my Season, and
he had to go home on business. On the way back to town his carriage slid off
the road during a rainstorm, and he was trapped beneath it and drowned."
After two years she could speak of it in a steady voice, but the news, when it
came, had been devastating.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "How come you to Neville and
Alison after all this time?"

"My mother died seven months ago of pneumonia," she answered,
glancing away.

Nicholas sat up straighter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say?" she returned, touched by the
compassion in his voice. "Mama forbade me to go into mourning. She said it
was time for me to live." She shrugged and smiled. "You've certainly
made it easier for me to forget."

He laughed again. "I have become notorious for making women forget
things at opportune times," he drawled.

She blushed, for she could imagine what he was implying. "No
doubt," she answered, looking straight at him and refusing to let him
think he had shocked her.

He leaned toward her, and she found herself tilting her head sideways.
The duke paused for a moment, his expression telling her that he knew exactly
what she was thinking, then reached a hand over and brushed at her lower lip
with one finger. "You have a little chocolate on . . . "

Embarrassed, she raised a hand to wipe it away, but he grasped her
fingers and pulled her toward him with practiced ease. "Your Grace―"
she started to say.

"I'll take care of it," he murmured, and kissed her. Her arms
went around his shoulders as if of their own accord, and he chuckled against
her mouth and shifted forward to kiss her again. He pushed her over backward,
his weight settling across her hip and pinning her beneath him. Kate was
breathless and tingling allover, her heart pounding so hard, she thought he
must be able to feel it against his chest.

BOOK: The Black Duke's Prize
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