The Clarendon Rose (4 page)

She straightened her shoulders and glared back, her temper rising.
 
She had been fretting over the future of the estates, once the new duke took over, since not long after Uncle Charles first took ill.
 
And now, in the face of her concerns, this man was behaving like an offended virgin who had been mistaken for a Cyprian.

Really, it was simply too much to be borne.

She spoke, enunciating each world with crisp clarity, beyond the point of caring if she antagonized him, “You are well known for being reckless.
 
Irresponsible.
 
A degenerate and rakehell.”
 

He raised an eyebrow.
 
“That being the case, I’m amazed you’ve agreed to help me.
 
No fears for your immortal soul?”

She held his gaze as her anger surged at his mockery.
 
“You may be assured I’ll have my crucifix handy at all times.”

“You disappoint me, Miss Merriweather.
 
Surely the purity of your innocence should be protection enough?”

She gave a derisive laugh.
 
“I learned long ago that innocence is no protection at all, outside of fairy stories.
 
I’d take my wits—and perhaps a good, large stick—over that any day.”

“I am duly warned.”
 
He took a sip of wine and sat back.
 
“So I’m to be the ravening beast in this scenario, then?”
 

She regarded him speculatively, then shook her head.
 
“No, not that.
 
Something far more dangerous and insidious, I think.”

“And what would that be?”

She compressed her lips into a smile.
 
“The newly-repentant sinner.”

His jaw tightened, but he inclined his head.
 
“But surely the repentance robs former sinners of their danger?”

“Quite the contrary.
 
Sackcloth and ashes are not the most comfortable of garments, after all.”

There was a brief silence, and then the duke sighed.
 
“I’m not sure whether to be amused or insulted, Miss Merriweather.
 
Certainly, your lack of faith, though hardly flattering, is entirely justified.”
 
He leaned forward.
 
“So tell me, is this how I am regarded by the staff here?
 
And the tenants?”

“I honestly couldn’t say, Your Grace.
 
I’ve never discussed their view of your reputation with them.”

“Of course, of course,” he nodded, closing his eyes briefly.
 
“But it would be safe to speculate that if I am regarded in such a light by the
ton
, then at least a few of the stories would have also spread to the staff, and from there, to the tenants.”

“Yes.
 
I think it would be a reasonable inference, Your Grace,” Tina agreed, once more unsure what to make of the man.

He sighed.
 
“So, I shall have to establish my credibility with them, as, I now see, I will also have to do with you.”

“With me?
 
Sir, you are the duke.
 
You have no need to establish anything with
me
.”
 
Tina could not keep the archness from her tone.

A weary smile.
 
“Yes, I am firmly beyond the pale insofar as you’re concerned, aren’t I?
 
Well, I do appreciate your agreeing to help me, despite my dastardly reputation.
 
The Clarendon holdings are blessed indeed, to have won such a loyal and capable supporter.
 
Of course, crucifixes notwithstanding, as my brother’s betrothed, you will be in no danger of corruption from me, regardless of how black my name might be.”

“You are undoubtedly correct.”

“You sound dubious, Miss Merriweather.”

“It’s just that I’ve seen enough of men to know—“ she cut herself off suddenly, wondering what could possibly have possessed her to set foot along that particular path.
 
She had no interest in airing her childhood memories over the dinner table.
 
Though she had seen more of the world than most women of Quality ever did, it was not something she liked to discuss.

“Have you indeed?”
 
He frowned as he regarded her.
 

Tina took her time swallowing a bite of the excellent lamb Cook had prepared for the new duke’s first dinner at Loughton Manor.
 
Then, she smiled at him.
 
“I very much doubt the views of your character held by the tenants and staff have much reflection upon their dedication to the Somersby name.
 
If you also prove to be a fair and just lord, they will undoubtedly serve you all the more loyally.”

“Which is not a very subtle evasion, Miss Merriweather,” he replied, his tone caught between seriousness and amusement.

“Such ungentlemanly observations must only have helped solidify your reputation, Your Grace.”

He expelled a deep breath.
 
“I’d gladly bear the brunt of a ruined reputation if an overly frank tongue could be the extent of my sins.”

Tina was unable to suppress a smile.
 
“I cannot agree.
 
If that were the extent of your sins, you’d chafe under the unfairness of all the other labels.”

“You are undoubtedly correct, Miss Merriweather.”
 
He adopted a playfully tragic air.
 
“As it is, the specter of my tattered reputation may yet chafe, but I accept it, knowing it is deserved, and my title is all that provides me with a grudging
entrée
into polite society.”

“That, and your admirable ability to mix metaphors,” Tina agreed dryly, unprepared for the burst of laughter that greeted her comment.
 
She glanced at the duke and wished she hadn’t.
 

With the light of real amusement in his eyes and no traces of cynicism in the rich sound of his laugh, he was almost impossible to resist.
 
And then, there are those
cursed
dimples,
she reflected with frustration, even as she felt her lips stretch into an answering grin.
 
Watch yourself, Valentina.
 
Resist him.
 
A woman in your position cannot afford to do otherwise.

“You are delightful, Miss Merriweather,” he commented, his broad smile still warming his eyes.

Tina felt that damnable heat rise to her cheeks yet again, in spite of her resolution to force herself into indifference.
 
“That will not do at all, Your Grace.
 
Such comments will add ‘heretic’ to your already impressive list of labels.
 
You must know the exalted deities of the
ton
have ruled that ape leaders cannot be ‘delightful.’”

“Ape leader?” he asked, his expression quizzical.
 
“But you are engaged to my brother—who undoubtedly shares such high regard for you, and tempers it with far warmer sentiments.”

“Of course,” Tina replied, scrambling to cover the slip.
 
She really hoped Edmund would return soon!
 
Then at least I won’t need to keep watching myself like this.
 
“I had just grown accustomed to thinking of myself as on the shelf because Edmund’s proposal was so recent.”

“So I gather.
 
That brother of mine certainly took his time about declaring himself, though I imagine you two must have had some sort of understanding in place.”

Tina gave him a wan smile.
 
“Indeed, Edmund and I have long had an understanding.”
 
The understanding of a cherished friendship.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said with another meltingly warm smile.
 
“My brother is an excellent man and I have no doubt you will both be very happy.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Ah excellent!
 
Apple tart.
 
A favorite of mine,” Clarendon declared as the dessert course was served.
 
“So, where shall we begin tomorrow, Miss Merriweather?
 
I am at your complete disposal.”

Tina swallowed her mouthful of the confection.
 
“Perhaps a tour of the local estates?
 
Unless you had specific questions you wished to discuss with me, based on your perusal of the papers I sent?”

“I do, but they can wait, unless the weather proves inclement.
 
But if all is well, then a tour sounds just the thing.
 
It will help me to get a sense of what all the numbers, comments and ledger entries mean, in real terms.”

“So, shall we meet at, say, seven-thirty?
 
In the stables?”
 
She looked up to find him staring at her, aghast.

“Have a heart Miss Merriweather!”
 
He gave her a dimpled grin.
 
“At least give me a day or two’s grace, to ease me into keeping country hours.”

She couldn’t resist a chuckle at his exaggerated horror.
 
“Sorry.
 
I had forgotten what different hours they keep in Town.
 
Seven-thirty is my usual time—and I’ll warn you, I’m considered something of a lay-abed by the tenants because of it.”

He gave a mock shudder, then sighed.
 
“They do say ‘when in Rome…’ but perhaps, in this case, not quite yet?”

“So, tell me what time would suit and we’ll meet then.”

“Would ten-thirty be asking too much?
 
It’s a little early for me, but I shall contrive to make do if you’ll grant me this indulgence.”

“Of course.
 
Ten-thirty, then.
 
In the stables.”
 
Tina nodded, before turning her attention to her own dessert, as she tried to reconcile the reality of the man sitting opposite her with his troublemaking, self-absorbed reputation.

Far from facilitating the process by revealing some egregious character flaw, reckless tendencies or crudity of nature, their dinner together had only made it more difficult to comprehend.

How could this courteous, considerate man be the same person who did not once visit the family home after he had left for the wars—and stayed away for over a decade?
 

During his brief sojourns in England, he had restricted himself to London, where he had stayed in his own, private townhouse.
 
If they wished to see him, his parents and brother had been forced to call on him there—apparently because he couldn’t be bothered to make the relatively short trip out to the manor.
 
Byronic heroes were all very well, but to Valentina, this prolonged absence had smacked of heartless self-absorption.
 

And yet, here he was, concerned about how he might be regarded by his tenants and staff.
 
Apparently determined to prove himself in their eyes.
 
From what he said, he had even spent much of the past week familiarizing himself with the current status of his holdings.

In light of such evidence, Tina could almost convince herself that the stories she had heard were exaggerated distortions.
 
Or that they concerned someone else.

Yet, he hadn’t denied them.
 
And though she wanted to believe that he might truly have changed, there was too much at stake for her to fall into an easy trust.
 
Not that trust had ever come easily—and she wasn’t about to allow facile charm, fire-eaten dark eyes and a dimpled grin to change that.

After Miss Merriweather had taken her leave, Clarendon lingered over a single glass of port, reluctant to face the long, restless hours of the night ahead.

Far more diverting to think about the intriguing Miss Merriweather instead.
 
She certainly wasn’t what he had expected—though thinking it over, he wasn’t sure what that might have been.
 
Certainly, he knew better than to believe his mother’s accounts, just as he knew his brother to be a man of intelligence and good sense.
 
So perhaps, he had expected someone more conventional and, though he hesitated to admit it, boring.
 

What he hadn’t expected was a woman whose exotic beauty and barely-suppressed intensity was offset by her sharp intelligence and her even sharper wit.
 
A woman whose hidden complexities intrigued him almost as much as did her luscious physique and her rare but enchanting smile.
 

He sat back in his chair, shaking his head as a grin spread over his face.

Fascinating creature.

And engaged to his brother.

The idea irritated him more than it ought.
 
He had only just met her, after all.
 
But still—he hadn’t felt this captivated by anyone in longer than he could remember.
 
Already he was looking forward to spending the day with her tomorrow—to crossing swords with her rapier wit, basking in her smile and attempting to penetrate the hidden depths he sensed in her.

They would be spending long hours together over the coming weeks.
 
The prospect brought him up short, for he was honor-bound to behave with the utmost decorum—not merely because she was spoken for, but also because she was clearly a respectable woman.
 
He was not, nor had ever been, a despoiler of innocents, regardless of his reputation.

Egad, but why in hell’s name would the one person whose help I need have to be so damned beddable?
 
He grimaced, before tossing back the last of his port.
 

Then, knowing there was no putting it off any longer—particularly not with his early morning ahead—he stood and headed up to his rooms.
 
He avoided examining his surroundings too closely as he walked along the halls and passages he had known so well as a child.