The Duke (13 page)

“What do you mean by that?”

Clearly torn, he lowered his head. “I was worried that people would talk about Lucy and me. People sense things, you know, and I... I could tell she was not indifferent to me.”

What woman could be? she wondered.

“I avoided her at every turn. I wanted to do the right thing. But now I can’t help but wonder ... if I had given her a chance to speak to me privately, maybe she would have confided in me ... something that would have allowed me to save her.” His dark eyes were haunted when he looked at her. “Did she know Dolph was a threat? Did she know she was in danger? I ask myself these questions every night a thousand times, but I suppose I’ll never know.”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Robert,” she said softly. “Whatever happened, it’s not your fault. You did what you knew to be right at the time. No one can expect more than that.”

She watched him consider her statement then discard it.

“Maybe I wasn’t virtuous,” he said. “Maybe I was merely afraid.”

She gazed at him in compassion, but he turned away, scratching his jaw.

“I realize you could have your pick of any man in
London
and that what I ask of you is not without danger, so I am prepared to make it very worth your while, Miss Hamilton. What do you say to a thousand pounds for the whole project? It shouldn’t take more than two months at the most. You’ll also have your own carriage and saddle horse, whatever servants you need, theater boxes, an allowance for your clothing and so forth, and in addition to all this—” His posture stiffened slightly as he clasped his hands behind his back and inspected the street through the window. “I shall not require you in my bed.”

Bel stared at him, barely daring to breathe. “You’re joking.”

He bowed his head. “The woman I loved is dead, Miss Hamilton. I—just can’t. I hope you’ll understand.”

“Of course,” she breathed. He hoped
she
would understand? she thought wildly. A thousand pounds for two months of her time? It was a princely sum, a full third of Papa’s debt—and she wouldn’t even have to bed him!

Oh, to be exempt from the thing she feared most—and to see Dolph get his comeuppance to top it all off!

But then suddenly she noticed the grief so clear in his tanned, chiseled face and her triumph dissolved. Her heart went out to him. She rose and went to stand by his side. Taking his hand in both of hers, she gazed up at him in tender sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss, Robert, truly. At least Lady Coldfell is with God now, and at peace.”

He nodded grimly, looking down at their joined hands, his, large and bronzed, hers, small and pale. When he glanced at her his dark eyes brimmed with stormy sorrow and his voice was low. “Will you assist me in getting justice for her, Miss Hamilton? Please. You are the only one who can help me.”

Bel gazed up at him, thoroughly melted.

Oh, to be loved by such a man.
His lady was dead and still he loved. She hadn’t known there were men like him in the world.

She hadn’t the power to refuse him, even though she was only to be the expendable bait while Lady Coldfell’s memory was to be held up as sacred. She longed to console him somehow, but he did not appear to want to be drawn out of his grieving.

“Two months?”

“If it makes you more comfortable, we can write in a date that our agreement will expire—say, the first of August.”

“All right. And... you really won’t ask me to come into your bed?” she ventured.

“I give you my word on it, but that will have to be our secret. The ruse is useless if Dolph or anyone else suspects the true nature of our arrangement. We’ll have to be convincing.”

“Well, then.” Moving closer, she lightly grasped the lapels of his waistcoat and tilted her head back with a wry smile, hoping to cheer him. “In that case, Hawkscliffe, you’ve got yourself a mistress.”

A rueful, almost shy smile spread across his face. “I shall be the envy of
London
.”

No, I will, she thought with a little laugh, her heart beating faster.

“There is one other thing, Robert.”

“Yes?”

“I understand you have a young sister who has not yet made her debut.”

“Yes, why?”

“Don’t let the girl come to the house while I’m there.”

“Ah, right. I appreciate your discretion.”

“We are paid to be discreet,” she said with a tight smile.

There was a clumsy pause.

“Well, I suppose I should write up the agreement, then.”

“There’s ink and paper on Harriette’s desk,” she said, nodding toward the escritoire.

He went to the desk and soon their bargain was spelled out, signed, and made legally binding by his ducal seal. Hawkscliffe blew the powdery blotting grit across the ink, drying it.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she mused aloud as she bent over and signed her name beside his.

“I always know precisely what I’m doing, Miss Hamilton. ‘Tis the plague of my existence,” he said wryly under his breath.

Just then a sudden burst of noise startled them both. They looked toward the closed parlor door as the sound of angry bellowing reached them through the house, a flurry of shouting and banging. Someone was pounding on the front door downstairs.

“It’s Dolph,” Bel said as a tremor of uneasiness ran through her. Instinctually she moved closer to Hawkscliffe.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “Stay inside.”

She nodded and stared after him as he prowled to the door.

Protector
, her mind whispered.

“Be careful,” she called after him anxiously, only then noticing the menacing air of excitement that rippled through his big, lean frame.

Hawkscliffe paused in the doorway and slid her a dark smile. “Never fear, Miss Hamilton. Sometimes the bear wins.”

Hawk strode across the salon, perversely anticipating the prospect of toying with the frenzied Dolph Breckinridge. Dolph’s voice got louder as Hawk neared the top of the steps.

“Where is she? Where is the little strumpet?”

Whistling, Hawk jogged down the steps to the entrance hall, encountering Harriette Wilson on the stairs, a diminutive package of red-headed feminine fury.

“Get out of my house before I call for the constable!” she was yelling at Dolph.

The baronet, in turn, cursed at her as he tried to fight his way in past the two hefty footmen struggling to keep him out. He had one hand hooked inside the door frame, from which he refused to be pried. His face was scarlet with struggle, his short-cropped sandy hair in disarray.

“I’ll see to him, Miss Wilson,” Hawk murmured, politely setting the haughty little queen of the demireps aside.

“Yes, please, do something, Hawkscliffe! He’s making a spectacle in front of all my neighbors.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll soon be gone. By the way, I believe Miss Hamilton would like to speak with you.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, turning to him coyly. “Dare I hope you two lovely things have made an arrangement?”

Hawk gave her a narrow smile. “She’ll fill you in.”

“Splendid! Congratulations, Your Grace. I thought she would never make up her mind.” Harriette whooshed off to talk to Belinda.

“You!” Dolph roared when he saw him coming. “Treacherous, backstabbing villain! Blackguard! Snake! Come out here and let me have at you!”

“My dear fellow, what seems to be the problem?”

Walking over to the door, Hawk nodded to the rough-looking footmen. They cautiously released Dolph and backed away. Immediately Dolph launched through the doorway, fists first, and tried to tackle him. Hawk, however, had not grown up as the sole disciplinarian of four rowdy younger brothers and raised them through their teenage years for naught. Innumerable sibling brawls, especially with Jack, who was bigger than he, had taught him to anticipate nearly every move in fisticuffs known to man.

He stepped nonchalantly out of the line of Dolph’s charge, grabbing his opponent’s right arm behind him and hoisting it up high and hard behind his back. Dolph barely had time to grunt before Hawk threw his left arm across Dolph’s throat in a neat choke hold.

“Can’t we settle this like civilized men?”

Dolph twisted and thrashed, to no avail. “Traitor! I knew you would do this! You told me you would talk to her for me, not court her for yourself! Today I wake up and hear about you
kissing
her!” he spat. “I suppose you were here all night?”

“Suffice it to say I’ve offered Miss Hamilton my protection and she has said yes, and that is the end of it as far as you’re concerned.”

Dolph howled. Hawk dodged the jab of an elbow aimed at his ribs.

“You can’t have her!”

“She isn’t yours to withhold or bestow.”

“Yes—she—is!” Dolph tore free of his hold. “I’ll kill you,” he panted, trying to circle him.

Hawk watched him in wily amusement. “My dear boy, you’ll do nothing of the kind. You really ought to learn to control your passions. They’ll get you into trouble someday.”

“You tricked me! You think you’re so smart and that I’m a fool, but whatever I am, at least I don’t go around pretending to be some kind of saint.”

“My goodness, such venom. It’s not good for the digestion, Dolph.”

“Belinda Hamilton is
mine.
Belinda!” he yelled toward the steps. “Get down here! You’re coming with me!”

“Why do you think that you own her?”

“I saw her first!”

“Do you even grasp the notion that she is a sentient being with her own wishes and her own will? She doesn’t want you and she isn’t coming down here.”

“Belinda! Come down here now, you filthy little strumpet!”

“Now, that’s really not very nice,” Hawk chided, taking a menacing stride toward him, and another. “Shall we step outside?”

“Gladly,” Dolph growled, missing Hawk’s ruse merely to get him out of the house.

Glowering at him, Dolph warily backed outside, still poised to clash.

Hawk nodded firmly to a footman as he passed. The burly man in livery pulled the front door closed and locked it.

Only then did Hawk feel a modicum of relief, knowing Belinda was safe inside. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the glaring afternoon sun. Dolph’s phaeton crouched nearby in the cobbled street; the poor cowering groom had a black eye.
Bloody brute.

“I did approach Miss Hamilton on your behalf, Dolph,” he said, casually skewing the truth a bit. “When she assured me that you have no hope of succeeding with her, I saw no reason not to pursue her for myself. She’s a pretty thing and I rather fancy her. A man in my position needs a hostess—you know, for all the political entertaining.”

“A hostess?” Dolph asked with a bark of angry laughter. “Is that all you can think to do with her, you cold fish? Why am I surprised? You’ll never love her as I do. No one can.”

“Love, Dolph? Your actions toward Miss Hamilton bespeak anything but love. Considering all you’ve done to her, is it any wonder she detests you? Getting her father thrown in the Fleet? What were you thinking?”

“It’s not my fault! I’m not the one who got the old fool into debt,” he retorted, but his cheeks colored with embarrassment. “He did it to himself.”

“And you’ve done this to yourself. I’ll overlook your outburst and your stupid threats because you are young and hotheaded. But know this. Belinda Hamilton is now under my protection. Do I make myself clear?”

Desperation flashed in Dolph’s eyes. “Just let me talk to her—” He took a step toward the door, but Hawk blocked him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Take your hand off me before I break it,” Dolph snarled.

“I see you did not hear my warning.” Keenly, Hawk held his stare. “Are you paying attention, Dolph? Keep your distance from my mistress. What do you suppose the chaps at White’s and Watier’s and every club on St. James’s would say if they knew how you’ve abused their idol? Think, Dolph. Do you want the word to get out?”

“I’m not afraid of anyone! Besides, no one’s going to duel over a demirep,” he retorted hotly.

“Duel, maybe not, but you
will
be shunned. Cut. Ostracized. You offend Miss Hamilton again or bother her in any way, and you shall find Society a very cold place.”

Dolph’s hazel eyes registered the threat. His expression sobered, but he glanced again evilly at the barred door to Harriette’s house, as though still mulling over how to get in.

Seeing that look, Hawk was glad from the bottom of his soul for the fortresslike construction of Knight House. There Belinda would be safe. He didn’t dare leave her anywhere else.

“Now, then. If you really want to get back in Belinda’s good graces, you may begin by doing everything in your power to get her old man out of jail,” he smoothly suggested. “You put him there. Make it right. If I were you, I would find out the full sum he owes and pay it off.”

“Pay his bills? Are you mad?” Dolph cried. “That daft old man owes nearly three thousand pounds and even if I wanted to pay off his debts—which I don’t—I don’t have that kind of blunt! I’ve got duns of my own to worry about until I come into my inheritance.”