If Not for the Duke, page 11
“When you dig on a small island, there’s a good chance you’ll hit water of some sort,” Lena countered.
“Then it’s a good thing Clarke has pumps to remove it, isn’t it?”
Norah shared a look with Lena that suggested she wouldn’t be able to contain her anger for long.
How many other people shared the same thoughts as Lady Clara? Lena wished she had a way to respond that would halt the talk. She struggled for a clever answer only to see Lady Clara’s focus shift to something past Lena’s shoulder.
Even as the lady’s eyes widened with excitement, Lena felt shivers run along her skin. She didn’t need her extra sense to know who approached. Though she’d been looking for him earlier, his timing couldn’t be worse.
“Your Grace,” Lady Clara gushed as she dipped into an alarmingly low curtsy and tipped forward as if to offer a better view of her decolletage. “We were just speaking about your great success. It’s terribly exciting, isn’t it?” She pressed both gloved hands to her chest as if nearly overcome.
Lena lifted her eyes to the ceiling, wishing she could give the lady a shake to bring her to her senses. Then she turned to face Sterling, hoping he might understand just how upsetting this subject was to both her and Norah.
*
Sterling raised a brow, feeling as if he were stepping into a situation he didn’t fully understand. While he’d heard enough to guess the topic was Clarke’s claim about Oak Island, he didn’t care to discuss it. Not until he knew for certain if Clarke spoke the truth. And not when he continued to be annoyed with the man for sharing details with the press before he shared them with Sterling.
He couldn’t say who the lady was in the unfortunate yellow gown that made her skin look as if she suffered from a terrible illness, but he recognized the gleeful look in her eyes. He didn’t care for it.
Especially when Lena and her sister both appeared upset.
“Exciting?” he asked with a glance around the crowded room, hoping to pretend he hadn’t heard their conversation and therefore, changed the subject. “If you are referring to the ball, I haven’t been here long enough to say.”
“Not the ball, though it is lovely,” the woman said, her gaze holding firmly on him. Apparently, they had been introduced at some point or she wouldn’t be speaking to him. “You and your progress on Oak Island, Your Grace.”
He bit back a grimace, not wanting to upset Lena and her sister further. He only wanted to dance with Lena. To watch the sparkle in her eyes as she attempted to coax him to smile. And if his luck held, perhaps they could share another kiss. That was all he’d been thinking about since he’d seen her yesterday.
Speaking of the treasure hunt could easily put those hopes in jeopardy.
He didn’t understand what Clarke was trying to accomplish by providing another update to the reporter, but Sterling was not amused. Working with someone so far away who seemed unable to follow orders was proving more difficult than he’d expected.
“There has been some progress with the treasure hunt,” he answered reluctantly. “Only time will tell, of course.”
“You must be ecstatic to have come so far so quickly compared to…others.” The lady glanced at Lena out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s too soon to make any claims.” That much was true.
“But—”
“Now is not the time to speak of business,” he interrupted with a frown. The woman was like a dog with a juicy bone, determined to savor every morsel of the subject. “Rather, we should be enjoying the ball.”
He’d had enough of the conversation and intended to whisk Lena away if she’d allow him. Hopefully, Lady Vanbridge would take the opportunity to escape the annoying woman’s company, as well. “Miss Wright, may I have the honor of a dance?”
To his surprise, Lena hesitated, causing his mood to plummet. Hadn’t she thought of their upcoming dance as often as he had? The realization was highly concerning when his mind had been consumed with it. Or rather, with her.
If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed the subtle nudge Lady Vanbridge gave Lena, as if to remind her to answer.
“The pleasure would be mine, Your Grace.” The tightness of her expression suggested otherwise, but perhaps he could shift her mood just as she so easily changed his.
“If you ladies will excuse us,” he said, offering his arm to Lena.
His entire body relaxed when she took it. He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, pressing it firmly against his side, enjoying the contact more than he should. He guided them toward the dance floor, anticipation filling him.
She looked beautiful as always in a pale green silk gown with a square neckline, mauve trim, and a small train. She moved gracefully, her long limbs lending her an elegant look.
“Has Clarke truly found the Money Pit?” Her lips twisted after she asked, making him think she didn’t really want to know but couldn’t resist.
“So he says.” He didn’t want to talk about it. Not when he knew the topic upset her. “I would prefer to speak of something else. Anything else. How did you find the weather today?”
The question nearly made her smile, and she met his gaze. “Surely, we haven’t resorted to speaking about the weather.”
“It was a particularly fine day. One worthy of discussion.”
Her genuine smile held him captive as if she were the reason they’d been graced with sunshine earlier in the day. The realization caused an odd ache in his chest. One he couldn’t help but rub, hoping to ease it to no avail.
“Is Lady Bernice here?” Lena asked while they waited for the other dancers to clear the floor.
Obviously, Lena hadn’t been struck by the feeling he had, or she wouldn’t be asking about his sister. He needed to take a firm hold of his ridiculous thoughts.
“She should arrive soon. Aunt Edith didn’t like the way Bernie’s hair was arranged because it made her spectacles more noticeable.” He shook his head. “At times, I wonder if she is the best choice for a chaperone. She is more critical of Bernie than I’d like.”
“Does your sister enjoy her company?”
Sterling frowned. “I’m not certain. I suppose I haven’t asked.” Lena’s question made him realize he should. Bernie needed a chaperone, and Sterling wanted a family member to be that person. Though he had to admit that even family couldn’t always be trusted. He rewarded Aunt Edith handsomely to watch over Bernie and lend her expertise, but he didn’t want the older woman to make Bernie miserable.
“I never imagined wearing spectacles would be such an issue.” Sterling shook his head. “Bernie was already a bit self-conscious about them, and I fear Aunt Edith has made it worse.”
“It can be difficult to know what personal agendas people have, can’t it? When we arrived in London, Grandfather chose Lady Havenby to chaperone us. While we weren’t certain about her at first, she has proven to be a friend we all love dearly. She has our best interests at heart, even if her thoughts and opinions don’t always mirror our own.” She glanced at him. “Perhaps the same is true for Mrs. Easton. Do you think there’s a reason she is so concerned about the spectacles?”
“Aunt Edith had a difficult life. I suppose she wants to help Bernie avoid the issues she faced. She firmly believes duty is more important than happiness.”
“Do you share that opinion?”
“Of course,” he said, surprised she’d asked. “With my title comes the weight of responsibility. Happiness is secondary at best.” He reconsidered, wondering if that was even true. He could count on one hand the times he had felt true joy in his lifetime. Satisfaction, certainly. But happiness was a rare and fleeting thing not to be counted on.
Lena’s puckered brow suggested she didn’t agree.
“What is important to you?” he asked, nodding at an acquaintance who passed by.
“I’m not a man, and certainly not a duke, so I suppose it’s different for me.”
“That’s not an answer,” he pressed. He wanted to know what she thought, though he couldn’t say why it was so important.
After considering the question for a moment, she smiled. “You’ll laugh.”
“I’m grumpy, remember? I won’t laugh.” He hadn’t noticed how little he smiled until Lena had pointed it out.
That caused her to laugh, and the sight had him smiling. His mood lifted, causing a warm lightness deep inside him. Maybe there was more to being happy than he’d realized.
They took their place on the dance floor, but his attention held on Lena, still waiting for an answer.
She met his gaze as they stood before each other, her blue eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t interpret. “Love.”
His heart tripped at her answer. The term was a foreign concept to him, nearly as unfamiliar as happiness. Of course, he loved and trusted his sister, but that was the extent of his experience. He quickly dismissed her response. Surely, she jested. She had probably said that to tease him.
If that wasn’t the case, they had little in common.
The thought was sobering. He didn’t expect to experience love. The emotion was fleeting at best, painful at worst, and certainly unreliable. Trust was all that mattered. One didn’t have to love in order to trust.
He gave himself a mental shake. The conversation was ridiculous. They would’ve been better off speaking of the weather, as he’d suggested. It wasn’t as if they were planning a future together. What she believed shouldn’t—didn’t—matter.
He did his best to ignore the quiet voice inside him that argued otherwise.
The music started, and they took their first steps. Seemingly unaware of his swirling thoughts, Lena continued, “Love for family, friends, and life.” She smiled again. “The world would be a better place with more love.”
“You don’t mention love for a husband.” He watched her closely as they moved in time to the music. She was a beautiful lady of marriageable age. Her sisters had already found husbands. Surely, she intended to do the same.
“That is a more difficult task.” Her gaze fixed on something in the distance, her smile fading. “To be not only accepted and trusted but loved, despite one’s imperfections, is much to ask.”
Accepted? The word confused him. What did she mean? He didn’t know her well enough to ask, nor was this the time for such a serious conversation.
Instead, he’d settle for another smile.
“You couldn’t possibly have imperfections,” he teased, hoping to coax a smile from her. He much preferred them over the worry that shadowed her face.
To his surprise, the shadow deepened. “We all have a few. Some are easier to overlook than others.”
Her remark made him all the more curious. To what could she possibly be referring? Perhaps whatever it was explained the air of reserve that often came over her, the one that kept others at arm’s length. As if she had a secret she guarded closely.
He told himself that he didn’t want to know. And he didn’t. Sharing secrets meant trusting, and he wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t seem to be either.
“True,” he agreed, at last.
Lena was beautiful and intelligent. Any failings she thought she had were surely minimal. She never lacked for dance partners, that much he knew for certain, as Bernie had commented on it with a hint of envy.
They continued the rest of the dance, speaking little. They seemed to agree not to delve any deeper into the topic. Soon, the last strains of the music faded, and the dance ended.
After they curtsied and bowed, Sterling offered his arm, reluctant to return her to her sister’s side. He liked spending time with her even in companionable silence.
Lena squeezed his arm as if to gain his attention, and he glanced at her. “You still owe me a smile, Your Grace.”
“I believe I smiled several times during our dance,” he protested, pretending to scowl just to see her response.
“Those were accidental.” She lifted her chin, a teasing glint in her eyes. “I insist you keep your word.”
“Hmm.” He looked about the room with a frown, seeming to find little to smile about. “If I am to smile again, I would need a reason.” He focused on her and raised a brow. “You will have to provide one.”
“Me?” She blinked, clearly surprised by his demand.
A familiar anticipation ran through him as he guided her the long way around the ballroom, which took them past the door to a corridor that held no guests at the moment. If memory served him from his previous visits to Stanhope’s house, the passage led to a small receiving room unlikely to be used this evening.
He feigned nonchalance as he eased them just inside the corridor, blocking them from the view of the ballroom. He turned to face her, expectation—or was it desire?—stirring as he studied the lovely woman before him.
Lena’s chest rose and fell quickly beneath his interested gaze. Was she looking forward to a moment alone together as much as he was? Was she anticipating what might happen?
“How do you suggest I convince you to smile?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper in the dim, quiet space.
“It won’t be easy.” He pretended to ponder her question. “I do have one suggestion.” His gaze fell deliberately to her mouth as he reached for her waist.
“What might that be?” She stepped closer until their bodies touched. Her playful boldness was a force he hadn’t predicted. Her scent wrapped around him, tempting him further.
“A kiss.” He bent his head until their lips were only a breath apart.
“How can you smile if we’re kissing?” she murmured.
“I’ll smile after.” A mix of affection and desire curled through him. He took her mouth with his, need making him more forceful than he’d intended.
Rather than pull back in alarm, she pressed more firmly against him, her hands reaching around his neck, her fingers moving along the back of his head. His senses were immersed in all things Lena, from her scent to her touch to the feel of her soft form against his length.
He couldn’t remember being as tempted by a woman as he was at this moment. Given his title, he’d had more than his share of ladies trying to gain his notice. But Lena did it with little effort. It was as if she didn’t want anything from him except himself.
The thought had him drawing back to look into her eyes, his heart pounding fiercely. The idea was unsettling. One he didn’t understand. Everyone wanted something from him.
Then she lifted onto her toes to kiss him, and the concern fell away. She opened her lips, and a shiver ran along his skin when their tongues met. The thrill of being inside her in this small way was nearly more than he could stand. And it made him long for so much more.
“Lena,” he murmured, wondering if she understood what she did to him.
“Sterling.” His name on her lips heightened his passion further. She eased back to look into his eyes. The teasing glint had disappeared, replaced with something that looked like surprise mixed with a hint of worry.
Good, he thought. That made two of them. He didn’t pretend to understand what this was between them. But he intended to find out. To analyze it until it made sense. Perhaps then, he’d discover what it was she wanted.
“I should go,” she whispered.
He nodded but didn’t release her. How could he when she felt perfect right where she was?
She released him and stepped back, breaking his loose hold on her. She smoothed her gown. With one last look at him, she was gone, leaving him standing in the dim corridor with the hope his body would calm down so he could return to the ball.
But after a few minutes with only his imagination for company, he realized that was unlikely. With a frustrated oath, he continued down the corridor, away from the ballroom, and turned left, which he knew from previous visits led to a garden door.
He passed Stanhope’s study, surprised to see light shining from the slightly ajar door. He would’ve thought the lord would be in the ballroom to see to his guests. The murmur of voices reached his ears, and he paused, hoping whoever was inside didn’t decide to step into the corridor and catch him wandering about the house.
The conversation was somewhat heated based on the tone of the voices. That would give him the chance he needed to escape before being seen. He took a step forward, listening closely to make certain their voices didn’t move in his direction.
“Clarke insists he’ll find treasure.”
Sterling stilled in surprise at the thought of anyone talking about Clarke and the treasure in a secluded study at a ball. Then he remembered the numerous wagers being placed on the success of the hunt. With a disgusted shake of his head, he prepared to depart when one of the men spoke again.
“He said he’ll advise us of his plan once he knows more.”
Had the person contacted Clarke with the hope of learning more to win a wager? That hardly seemed sporting. Sterling eased back into the shadows as the voices drew nearer, wanting to see who was speaking.
The first man was unfamiliar, but the second was Viscount Ludham, a man Sterling had little use for. Stanhope was nowhere in sight.
“Renwick might think he has Clarke’s loyalty, but he’ll soon learn that’s not true.” Ludham chuckled. “The duke is being played for a fool.”
“Clarke is willing to pay well for more information.”
“With Renwick’s money, I would assume,” Ludham suggested.
“More than likely. The longer Renwick is kept in the dark, the better.”
“Someone must know more about the island. It’s just a matter of discovering who and what. You’re going to see Johnson?”
“I’m traveling to see him next week. Let us hope he has something helpful to share.”
“I’m not sure how you’ll convince him to tell you if he does,” Ludham said.
“I’ll think of something. Have no worries on that account.”
Anger filled Sterling. Once again, he’d been proven right. Clarke couldn’t be trusted. It seemed no one could. He drew a slow breath with the hope of cooling his temper to better think. Confronting the pair now would serve little purpose. They’d only refuse to say anything more. Better that he try to discover what Ludham was up to before raising the viscount’s suspicions. He’d send a warning to Johnson, as well, with the hope the man would take care.
