The Third Duke's the Charm (14 page)

Chapt
er Fourteen

“My lord?”

Lucien looked up, and though he might normally have been annoyed at the interruption, he merely lifted his brows in question.

“Lord Charles requests an audience.”

There was a small impulse to be amused at the formal phrasing, but he sat back in his carved chair, set aside the correspondence he had been going over, and murmured, “I rather wondered when my brother would reappear. Could you please show him in, Luther?”

The young man bowed. “Very well, sir.”

His first thought was that Charles looked well. Even as a child he’d been gifted with that easygoing smile and it was in evidence now as he strolled in and shrugged out of his jacket, loosening his cravat and picking out the most comfortable chair. “Father told me you were in London.”

“That is your form of greeting?” Lucien sent him an amused look. “After all the chaos you’ve caused?”

“How much chaos is it?” Charles extended his booted feet. “He and I aren’t really speaking to one another at this time. It seemed expedient to bring Louisa to London so she could be out of the potential battle if it were inevitable. I understand he’s angry and I know why. I’m just curious as to the extent of it.”

“He definitely prefers talking to his plants.”

Charles’s smile was more of a grimace. “I’ve noticed. Louisa’s father, on the other hand, had no difficulty telling me I am not a desirable son-in-law in his eyes. The final edict was he and I are never to speak to each other again. I am not at all opposed to it either, as the one time was more than enough.”

“I would think it quite the opposite. You have a lot to offer his daughter. Social position and a life of ease she would be unlikely to have otherwise coming from a modest background.”

“Wealth and social status represent sin to him. It just bothers me he has all but disowned her entirely and I am the cause.”

Lucien eyed his younger brother. “I hope you realize then that is his interpretation and as a result, a problem of his own making.”

“I do.” Charles sank lower in his chair. “And thankfully, so does my wife.”

Dryly, he said, “I’m anxious to meet the woman that spurred you to such impetuous behavior.”

“She’s exceptional. Since we are conversing along these lines, how is Viv?’

The easy use of the nickname Charles had always called her irked him a little, but it was irrational to resent his younger brother, of all people. As Lucien had reminded himself more than once, he would rather be her lover than her friend. “She’s well.”

She was also deliciously passionate, beguilingly honest, unapologetically intellectual—but Charles knew all that. Except for the passion. That belonged to Lucien alone.

His brother gazed at him curiously. “I understand you are going to marry her.”

“Yes.” There was certainly no going back now.

“Why?”

“I’m afraid I fail to understand why I keep getting asked that question. She’s lovely and intelligent.”

“Lord, Lucien, you know I didn’t mean it that way.” Charles ran his fingers through his already unruly dark hair. “I was going to marry her myself, remember? She’s one of the best people I know. I simply was asking if Father pressured you both into this engagement because of my actions.”

“No. I offered.”

They regarded each other across the paper-strewn desk for a moment and Lucien realized that his brother was not that surprised. Charles confirmed it when he nodded slowly. “I always wondered if maybe you had an interest in her. But you never said anything.”

Maybe they should discuss this openly and clear the air, Lucien thought.

“I thought you were lovers,” he said bluntly. The complete truth. They were so easy together, so familiar and companionable that it wasn’t much of a leap in logic.

Charles shook his head. “Maybe if we had met later in our lives it might have happened. It is hard to say. All those escapades as children, including the inevitable quarrels, might be why we rub along so well. I think we are alike in many ways, so we like each other. Besides, she is an only child and you are considerably older than I am. You and I have only gotten to know each other as men, not children. Viv and I played together because there really was no one else and we’ve just naturally remained friends. I’ve never touched her.”

“I know.”

He shouldn’t have said it, and there was just a shade too much conviction in his voice apparently because Charles looked startled and then there was a certain acknowledgment in his eyes. He said evenly, “I . . . see. Precipitous, isn’t it?”

“As for Father, I think you needn’t worry about his reaction.” He glossed it over. “At the end of it all, both of us will be married, Vivian’s father seems pleased, and as long as an heir is produced soon enough, our parent will be content enough to just continue his studies. I don’t know if you realize this, but I am responsible for most of the estate matters.”

“Of course. You have been for a long time.”

“Not quite like this.” His tone was subdued.

That statement caught his brother’s attention. “What do you mean?”

He had pondered whether or not to say anything, but decided he should. “Not that he will discuss it with me, but the cough is persistent. I assume you’ve heard it. He’s seen a physician. His valet told me.”

Charles stared at him in consternation. “I’ve noticed it. I . . . I thought it was just a passing illness. We’ve all had them.”

“Let’s hope it is.” Privately, though it tortured him, Lucien worried it wasn’t passing at all. It had started last fall, gotten progressively deeper, and he’d noticed his father had lost weight. Otherwise he seemed much the same, but he really had shifted more and more of the burden of managing the family finances to Lucien. He’d used the excuse that he was in the midst of this experiment or that one, but the words hadn’t rung entirely true.

It wasn’t fair to not at least prepare his younger brother for the possibility it was serious.

“Are you concerned?”

“Enough that I mentioned it.”

Charles swore under his breath. “It didn’t occur to me that might be why he was avoiding my company.”

“I think that could be exactly the reason. He’s usually in London when parliament sits. He hasn’t been here in weeks.”

“He never misses it.” His younger brother looked shaken.

“Precisely.” Both of them sat in silence for a few moments, though truthfully, it had been cathartic to express his fears to someone else.

Perhaps they
did
know each other as men. Lucien had always been the responsible one, which made sense as he was older, but carrying the burden of this worry alone hadn’t been at all comfortable.

“Can’t we talk to his physician?”

“I tried. He was evasive. I suspect that was on direct orders.”

Charles got up and walked to the window, bracing his hands on the sill. In profile, his face was set. “I admit I have been engrossed in my own affairs.”

“He wants us to ignore it.”

“We can’t.”

Lucien said been struggling to come to terms with it himself. “We have no choice. He’s the duke, and he will have his way. Even as his eldest son, I hesitate to question him. Let’s just hope I’m wrong.”

“I’m right, you know.” Lily’s smile was mischievous. “For once the gossip is rather satisfying. Everyone is talking about how attentive Stockton was to you the other night and how dazzling you looked in your new gown.”

That evening had helped soothe some of the sting of the past seasons, but confidence was hardly so easily restored. Lily, as well, had been not so much a failure as immersed in an unfortunate scandal, so Vivian understood her friend’s delight was for both of them as a sort of mutual triumph over all the mean-hearted gossips.

She said calmly, “Lucien is a master at brushing off social interest in his life. Let us be honest, he has been excelling at it for years. He understands how it works and he was no doubt trying to make me feel more comfortable.”

“How nice that he would exert himself enough to try.”

She thought about the interlude at their picnic, trying hard not to betray any emotion, though surely she should be past
that
age. “He
can
be nice,” she admitted, only aware of the double entendre after the words were out of her mouth. She set aside her glass hastily. “I meant he is usually considerate, but that evening he was particularly so.”

“I see.” Lily’s gaze was speculative.

They were currently in the back of the Northfield townhouse, the garden modest but nicely situated, in her opinion. With a critical eye she judged the ornamental plants and deemed them a good selection on both a seasonal level and for the amount of sunlight. The bench was warm in the sun, and the breeze pleasant, and she leaned back and sighed. “It isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Being engaged or being engaged to someone like the Marquess of Stockton?”

“I was briefly engaged before, so I suppose the latter.”

“By all accounts, he certainly seems content with the arrangement.”

“He’s somewhat of a botanist, you know. With an agricultural slant, but still, we do have some similar interests which I must confess is refreshing. He assures me he doesn’t even mind that I cannot waltz, and the gown you referred to is directly due to an agreement between him and the Duchess of Eddington. I am not sure how he accomplished it, but he was also able to divert my mother from insisting on the fanfare of a lavish wedding, which I appreciate.”

“Kind of him, for I can thoroughly understand that.” Lily gave a delicate shudder. “Had Damien wanted one, I am not sure I would have lasted through the ceremony. I’d had enough of society gawking at me to last a lifetime.”

Vivian touched her friend’s arm lightly. The scandal that had so damaged Lily’s reputation had cost her dearly, she knew, but luckily, Lord Damien had the wisdom to see past it.

“I’ve also a close acquaintance with the duchess, as you know,” Lily went on, dry humor creeping into her voice. “It is like the tide coming in if she takes an interest in you. Inexorable and unstoppable. That said, I think underneath the haughty, imperious exterior there is a heart beating somewhere. Besides, though she wears gowns suited to at least two decades ago because she refuses any change to her own wardrobe, she has exquisite taste when it comes to current fashions.”

The trip to the dressmaker had been an interesting experience with the duchess in charge but Vivian couldn’t argue with the results. “She can be a bit overbearing, but then again, she despises lace. Need I say more?”

“No. Though I know she meant well, your mother’s unfortunate taste did you no favors these past four years.”

True enough.

“Anyway, after our marriage I do wish we would not have to spend so much time in London due to his business interests, but I imagine Lucien won’t insist I accompany him every time he comes to the city.”

Lily lifted her fine brows. “I think you might be mistaken there, especially when you are first married anyway. Damien is uninterested in us being apart for any length of time.”

“Yours is a love match, Lily.” Vivian heard the slight wistful note in her voice and hurriedly took a sip of sherry. “My marriage is based more on practicality. Lucien will need an heir and I happened to be there right under his nose at the time when Charles eloped, so I am a convenient choice, that’s all. It pleases his father as well.”

“I rather think it is starting to please you also, Viv.” Lily’s blue eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “It seems to me that he is putting some effort into making certain it happens.”

Like blatant seduction? To her mortification Vivian wasn’t sure that took too much effort on his part as she had succumbed easily to that oh-so-enticing curve of his lips as he smiled, and even more so to his persuasive touch. If there had been resistance at all, it had been minimal on her part.

“He and Charles are very different.” An oblique response at best. She amended, “Lucien is much more sophisticated. I have no idea whatsoever what he is thinking, so don’t ask me to give an opinion either way.”

Where is he now
? Vivian remembered him barefoot and half dressed at their alfresco picnic, his dark hair framing his features, his hands sensually exploring her skin . . . then the intimacy, the pain that turned to pleasure, the exquisite aftermath.

“Everyone has one.” Lily was ever her pragmatic self. “Public opinion says he is actually interested in you.”

“Don’t make it sound so impossible.”

“Not at all what I meant.” Her friend’s face held a chagrined expression. “I was simply saying that even the most mean-hearted harpies are marveling over the way he looks at you.”

Was that true? Certainly the look in his eyes before he’d kissed her at the ball had touched her very soul, and the other afternoon . . .

Lily said, “I vow I wasn’t being insulting. You know me better than that. I rather think the two of you are well suited after all. I admit I was surprised at first, mostly because I have seen you so often with Charles. However, Lucien Caverleigh is exactly the type of man with enough self-confidence that he is not intimidated by a woman with a brain in her head. Moreover, since his father has similar scientific interests, he understands your inclinations.”

All of that was true, but Vivian didn’t want to be a practical choice. It was naïve, but she wanted him to be wildly, madly, devotedly in love with her.

No, she refused to let foolish romantic notions ruin her current state of happiness. The garden was colorful and perfumed with flowers, the day was glorious, and her mood was inexplicably light. “I never thought you were insulting me, Lily. And I think you are correct; Lucien is not the kind of man who demands his wife follow his every whim, nor do I think he wishes to change me. He’s handsome, considerate, and intelligent. I actually feel quite lucky that Charles fell in love with someone else and it all worked out this way.”

“Let’s not forget he’s also a wealthy marquess who is the heir to a dukedom,” Lily said dryly. “You have certainly vindicated your refusal to marry before this. A brilliant move on your part considering how it has worked out. Perhaps instead of being considered unfashionably stubborn and far too immersed in an unladylike hobby, you will set a new trend.”