The Perfect Duke (14 page)

He raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for your confidence in me, but the blackguard didn’t meet his demise at my hand.”

“Then whose?”

Garret paced the room with a fluid grace in spite of the cramped quarters. “I wish to God I knew.” He raked his hand through his hair and her fingers curled with the desire to do the same. She swallowed. Dressed in a loose white shirt and black breeches, he seemed capable, approachable, and much too male.

He was a duke.
That’s why he fascinated her
. Her preoccupation with a nobleman was to be expected. But if that were truly the case, then why was he even more appealing as an ordinary man?

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. He didn’t seem at home here in her tiny bedroom. He belonged to the grand rooms at Belcraven. She had to remember that.

He turned toward her. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say anything”—he graced her with one of his rare, devastating smiles—“but Farley did give us a lead as to the children’s whereabouts before he died. I’m having the information verified.”

It took a moment before what he said registered. Relief vied with the sensible voice that warned her not to get her hopes up. Still, somehow, everything would be all right. “If you find them, the council will keep the school open. And Papa will . . . Where is Papa?” Panic tugged at her insides. “He’s not ill?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” She hadn’t meant to be so rude, but the man did strange things to her peace of mind.

“I consider it a good practice to keep an eye on the women I rescue.”

She hadn’t even thanked him
. “Oh Garret, I’m so sorry. You saved my life and all I can talk about is the children.”

“I have to admit, I thought the princess was supposed to fall into the prince’s arms after he rescues her.” He sat on the edge of her bed, one eyebrow raised. “Perhaps I’ve been misinformed?”

He leaned forward until she could see the laughter in his eyes and the cut on his lower lip. She lifted her hand to run her finger near the injury. Only slight swelling marred the area, but it still must hurt. “How can a princess properly kiss a prince when his mouth looks like this?”

“I think I’d manage.” He attempted to move closer, but she placed a hand on his chest.

“I did this to you by getting you involved.”

“No. I involved myself.” Vulnerability touched his gaze, replaced almost immediately by the practiced indifference she’d come to associate with him. “Whatever did you hope to accomplish by putting yourself in danger?”

“I’m not sure. But I couldn’t stand by and watch that beast take Michael.”

“Perhaps. But you’re not to do anything like that again.” He said it as though he were reprimanding a small child.

She removed her hand from his chest. “Is that a command?”

“If you wish to take it that way. I won’t have you in harm’s way.”

“I appreciate the concern, but Papa and I can take care of ourselves.”

Instead of being insulted, he had the audacity to grin, revealing those vertical lines in his cheeks that made her blink. “Your father is intelligent enough to know how things stand.”

“Excuse me?” His earnest gaze set her heart to racing. “Never mind.” She brought the covers all the way to her neck. “I’d like to speak with Papa now. I’m sure he must be worried.”

Garret stood, the warmth in his gaze terrifying. “Cara, you must hear me out.”

“I’m ill and Papa’s probably beside himself. I have responsibilities here.” She lowered her head, plucking at the ribbons on her nightgown. “And I want to see Michael. Children often don’t believe an adult is well until they see it for themselves.”

“Cara.” Garret placed his fingertips under her chin without touching her. Even though he didn’t physically force her to do his bidding, something in his voice compelled her to raise her head.

Her breathing increased. She wanted him to touch her, to cradle her face so she could turn her cheek until it rested against his palm, as she’d done once, long ago. She could see his resolve, but his brows drew together at something he saw in her face.

“Fine. I’ll get them.” He gazed at her for a long moment, then dropped his hand. “But we aren’t finished.”

He exited, and the room seemed to grow smaller. What was she going to do? Somehow, he’d forgotten that she wasn’t of his world.

And never could be.

And Snow awoke to life at the touch of his lips. She knew she had been changed for all time.

Snow White

“The Duke of Kendal requires your assistance.” Garret settled into the high-backed leather chair opposite Mr. Russell’s impeccably neat desk and waited until the man took his seat. “His Grace would like to bestow an ongoing donation to Miss McClure’s school. As you are the church’s solicitor, I thought it best to enlist your aid.”

“Quite right.” A puzzled expression crossed Russell’s features. “Have you informed Miss McClure and her father? I seem to recall she had some reservations about accepting charity from the duke.”

Garret ran his thumb over the rounded decorative nails used to tack down the leather on the arm of his chair. “I think perhaps you misunderstood. After all, the school is amply supported by noblemen such as His Grace. Any qualms she might have will be far out-shadowed by her concern for the children’s welfare. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course.” Mr. Russell rose, crossed to an inlaid wooden cabinet emblazoned with
fleur de leis
and removed a cut-glass decanter. “I just hadn’t wanted to do anything to upset Miss McClure. She’s so fragile right now.” He glanced at Garret. “Brandy?”

“No, thank you.” He didn’t want to drink with the man. It was foolish to let Russell’s interest in Cara affect him this way. Still, he couldn’t seem to help himself. “I’ve been instructed to give an advance.” Garret withdrew a bag of coin from his inner pocket and set it on the desk.

Russell hesitated, then continued to pour his drink. He returned, glass in hand, to the desk and hefted the coins as if weighing their worth. “His Grace is generous.” A gleam brightened his hooded gaze.

Garret smiled. “It’s a noble cause.” So, the man had a weakness—avarice, one of the seven deadly sins. Did Cara know? Probably not. She wanted to see the best in everyone. “The duke would like to be informed as to the school’s financial concerns. There is to be no more discussion about closing the doors.”

“I’m sure I can get the church council to agree. The duke has taken a great burden off their shoulders.” He smiled. “Off all of our shoulders.”

“I’ll convey your thanks.” Garret stood. “One more thing. The duke would like you to hire a housekeeper for the vicar.”

“I doubt Miss McClure would approve.”

“I think she will. She’ll want her father properly attended to when she returns to Belcraven.”

Russell took a sip of his drink, then set it back on the desk. “She’s leaving?”

“With me, three days hence.”

“I see.” Russell placed the coins in his top drawer. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He stood and circled the desk. “I’m curious. I’ve never heard of the Duke of Kendal concerning himself with someone in his employ. Yet he seems to be taking a great deal of interest in Miss McClure.”

“A duke’s affairs are none of our concern.”

Russell shrugged. “I meant no offense.”

“None taken. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Garret strode out of the stuffy apartment and into the crisp evening air. The stars rode low on the horizon, awaiting their journey across the heavens.

At last, his world seemed to be righting itself. He felt confident Morgan would locate the children. And in a day or two, Russell’s arrangements should be made, then Cara’s “responsibilities” would no longer exist.

Anticipation vied with satisfaction. He patted the pocket containing the ribbon Cara had given him all those years ago. She would become his wife. Nothing could prevent it.

“I’m returning to Belcraven in a few days.”

Cara looked up at Garret’s proclamation and jabbed her finger with the needle. “Ow.” He’d directed the comment to Papa, but turned at her exclamation.

Her injured digit stung, but the physical pain seemed minor compared with the emotional upheaval she felt. She tried to appear nonchalant. “Must you return so soon?”

Garret’s steady gaze made her shift in her seat. Surrounded by the glow of the oil lamp, with his hair unbound, he was a twin to the man in her dream. “I’ve accomplished what the duke asked.” He smiled and she had the silliest urge to throw her arms around him and beg him to stay. “Besides, you won’t miss me. You’re returning to Belcraven as well. Or don’t you remember?”

The night she’d agreed to return with him came back in sudden clarity. The heat of the fire grew warmer, heating her face. “I can’t go now. The children—”

“Have been found.” Garret actually grinned. “I heard from Morgan earlier today. Farley told the truth. My, the duke’s friend, Lord Bradford, is seeing to their welfare.” He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze tender. “They should return before we leave so you can see for yourself.”

“They’re alive?” She pressed her lips together to keep from crying. “All of them?”

Garret nodded.

“Thank you.” She dropped her gaze, staring blindly at the rampant-lion bookmark she’d been embroidering for her father.

“Yes, thank you, my boy. You have no idea how much your help has meant.”

“So you’ll return with me to Belcraven?” Garret was truly asking. Not even the slightest command edged his voice.

Cara looked up. “I . . . What about the school and Papa?”

“Don’t you go worrying about me.” Her father stood and smoothed his rumpled waistcoat. “I’ll be fine.” He crossed to her and laid his hand on her cheek. His face appeared gray in the rosy light. “Scheherezade, I won’t always be here.”

“No.” Fear clawed its way into her heart. She wouldn’t let him talk like this. “You’re just tired. Perhaps you shouldn’t spend so much time at the school?”

Her father and Garret exchanged a determined look and Garret gave a slight nod.
They’d discussed this before.
She couldn’t help feeling betrayed. Papa gazed down at her and brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “Go with him. You need to make your own life.”

Her voice trembled, taking on a pleading note. “I have a life. Here. With you.”

“Cara.” The way Garret said her name sent shivers up her spine. He stood and moved next to Papa. “Come with me.”

She tried to mask the terror she felt at losing the last family she had left. In spite of her feelings for Garret, she could never be a part of his world. All she’d ever wanted was a place to belong and people to love. Was that so much to ask?

With deliberate movements, she laid aside her sewing, stood, then crossed to the window. She welcomed the shadows that closed around her. Why couldn’t things stay the way they were?

“You needn’t remain at Belcraven.” Garret’s voice held a hint of impatience. “Rachel only requires a governess until the end of summer.”

His grudging offer almost made her smile. She turned. It was a concession. Somehow, she had the feeling he’d had no intention of letting her return.

“I’ve made arrangements at the duke’s request.” Garret glanced at Papa. “Your father is to have a housekeeper and funds are being provided for the school.” He joined her at the window, his nearness reminding her again what a danger he could be to her senses.

His breath touched her face as he whispered into her ear. “No matter what happens between us, I’ll always care for those you love.”

She closed her eyes. He gave her no choice but to honor her promise. “I’ll come.” Her gaze locked with his. “But I think it’s a mistake.”

“You’ll have no regrets.”

How could she not? Her only hope lay in his becoming the cold, arrogant man she’d first met once he returned to Belcraven. If he didn’t, she may never want to leave.

He had a surprise for Cara, and Emily. Garret hurried toward the schoolroom, feeling like a little boy who’d received his first pony. When he burst into the room, everyone turned to stare at him. “I thought we might end your instruction early today.”

Cara gave him her proper governess expression. “Mr. Stone, I hardly think it’s approp—”

“I’m taking you to the Tower. We’re going to see King George’s menagerie.”

Michael’s awestruck voice replaced the silence. “Blimey, ye ‘ave to know someone important to get in there.”

“Or do somethin’ wrong.” One of the older boys smirked.

“I don’t wanna go. Me da’s friend died there.” The young redheaded boy, no more than ten, put on a very melodramatic expression. “They won’ never let us leave.”

Garret shook his head. “You’ll be with me. No one will keep you there against your will. I promise.”

Emily ran up to him. “Can we see elfants?” She jumped up and down, tugging at his coat. “Me mum told me stories about ‘em.”

He squatted down until they were at eye level. “Yes, we’ll see elephants, and tigers, and exotic birds.”

“Ohooooo.” Her eyes became wide blue saucers. “Can we go, Miss McClure? Can we? Please.”

Garret waited while Cara appeared to struggle with what she should do, then she smiled. “Fine, those of you who wish to accompany us to the tower, may do so. Otherwise, class is finished for today."

As they loaded into the hired carriages, Cara positioned herself next to Garret and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I appreciate that you’re trying to please the children, but isn’t this dangerous? Considering your past?”

“I’ll not be recognized.” He smiled. “You may not realize it, but I look very different from the man the Ton knows. Besides, who would possibly expect the Duke of Kendal to be escorting a gaggle of children?”

They both laughed, but Garret took extra pleasure in the idea that she’d been trying to protect him. He smiled at her and she turned away, a blush on her cheeks.

Before long they’d crossed Tower Hill and piled out in front of Lion Tower. Rickety buildings flanked the outer wall. He hurried them along. Hawkers, pick pockets, and prostitutes abounded in this area.

A causeway spanned the old moat and led to the massive structure comprised of stone and brick that housed the king’s menagerie. Fortunately, not many people milled about.

Garret presented some papers and a small sack of coins to the blue-garbed beefeaters guarding the entrance. They perused the letters, gave him a cursory glance, then nodded. Their group proceeded over the causeway and into the tower.

The grey stone of the thick entrance walls seemed to go on forever, drawing gloom around them like a mantel. Even when they passed into the sunlight, the place reminded him of torture, death and power. He had to admit it was awe-inspiring. The fortress stood as a warning to those who thought to thwart English rule.

He’d visited the menagerie once and had been impressed by the collection of rarely seen animals from other countries. The children would never forget what they saw today.

He led them through the animal’s exercise yard to the cages that held the lions. Each enclosure fit inside an arch that measured about twelve feet tall and was divided into an upper and a lower section. Heavy wooden doors could be used to cut off access to the iron bars.

A dank stench of hay, excrement, and mold hung in the air. Soft growls emanated from the dimness. Garret stayed close to Emily, remembering the recent incident where a girl had been mauled by one of the lions.

All the children hung back except for Michael. He swaggered forward, squinting to see into the darkness. Garret opened his mouth to tell the boy to be careful, when a large lion lunged at the door of his prison. The animal’s paw shot through the bars, claws extended.

Michael hurtled backward, nearly tripping over his feet. His ashen face bespoke fear, but to his credit, he squared his shoulders and glared at the beast. The lion paced the perimeter of its cage, snarling its frustration.

Cara crossed to Michael and placed a hand on his arm. “Children, I don’t want you near any of the cages. You may look, but these are wild beasts. As Michael here is the bravest, he’ll make certain you stay at a suitable distance.”

Michael puffed out his chest and led the children around the circular enclosure. Many exclamations later, they passed what Garret knew to be the dangerous animal section and moved on to the aviary.

He turned to Emily, who’d hung back on his coat tails, and smiled down at her. “Wouldn’t you like to see an ostrich or a pelican?” She hesitated, then curiosity appeared to win out and she nodded. “Go on.” He encouraged her with a slight nudge toward the other children.

She tentatively joined the group, although she kept glancing back at him every few minutes. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and after a bit she seemed happily engrossed.

He joined Cara near the elephant pen, where she stood watching the children. “Someday, you’ll have to teach me how you do that.”

“What?” She faced him.

“You turned a disastrous situation into a positive one. Somehow you managed to make Michael look like a hero, and now you’re giving him a lesson in responsibility.”

“It’s nothing.” She graced him with a half-smile, then shrugged. “I simply didn’t want him to be embarrassed. I’ve found giving someone something to do keeps them from dwelling on their shortcomings.” She paused. “I assume you’ve been here before?”

“Once. His majesty invited me several years ago. The round turret of the White Tower houses a fine observatory. I wish you could see it.”

She twisted the strings of her reticule. “It’s very doubtful
I’d
be invited.”

He hadn’t meant to upset her. This was the first moment he’d had alone with her since her accident. If you could call this
alone
.

The children were on the other side of the enclosure and a nobleman with his entourage of servants had just entered. They were working their way toward them. He narrowed his gaze at the visitor.
Bloody hell.
Pemberton.

“What is it?” Cara glanced over her shoulder at the newcomers.

“I know him.”
Dammit.
Pemberton would be on them at any moment. He grabbed Cara’s elbow to escort her out, but it was too late. Damn, he was one of the few noblemen who
would
recognize him.

Cara placed her hands on his shoulders. “Kiss me.”

“What?”