An American Duchess (12 page)

Maisie had leaned back, hiking her skirt up to show her rolled-down stockings and her bare thigh. “In the modern world, a girl can experiment with sex however she wants. That’s what my set is about. We try everything.” Maisie’s gaze had raked over her boldly. “You aren’t going to be boring and old-fashioned, are you?”

In that moment, Zoe had known she couldn’t do anything that daring. She
was
boring and old-fashioned after all. After that, she’d stopped seeing Maisie.

So she wasn’t shocked to know Sebastian preferred men. But knowing he had tried to con her was different. That hurt.

“Miss Gifford.”

She let out a cry of surprise. It was Nigel. Walking purposely toward her across the gravel drive.

He’d called her Miss Gifford. They’d made love this afternoon, and he was being correct again.

She couldn’t understand him.

How could he have changed back to being icy after being so hot and steamy with her? It had awakened all kinds of delicious feelings inside her. He just looked...grim.

“I want to talk to you.” He caught hold of her arm and led her back to the garage. “We’ll go in here. We will not be disturbed.” He passed her and went to the door. He pressed down the latch.

She grabbed his hand. “No.”

Nigel arched a ducal brow. “No? Miss Gifford, we will talk and we will do so now.”

Maybe it was his return to icy, autocratic behavior. She’d thought she was falling in love; he was behaving as if they were strangers. Zoe knew this feeling—to expose one’s heart, only to have it stomped upon. Whatever it was—something made her want to shock him.

“Sebastian is in there,” she said, exaggerating a jaded, careless tone, but keeping her voice very soft, “with his friend Captain Ransome. They kissed. I think it would be embarrassing to interrupt them. It would probably lead to a scene, and I know how you dislike scenes.”

 10 

THE PROPOSAL

Nigel stood there, like a stone statue with his hand on the door. After an age, there was a click of the latch falling back into place. Slowly he drew his hand from the handle. “Did you just say that—that they are—are—?”

Zoe realized he couldn’t say it in front of her. She whispered, “I said they are kissing.”

“How do you know this?”

She moved away from the garage to the edge of the gravel drive in front of it, near some trees, and he followed. “I wanted to speak to Sebastian alone—I wanted to break off our engagement. But when I went into the garage, he was with Captain Ransome. I was standing in the doorway and neither man noticed me. When Sebastian drew Ransome into a kiss, I slipped out.”

The duke winced. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“I didn’t mean to catch them at such a personal moment.”

“You shouldn’t have seen anything so scandalous.”

“I do know it happens. I’ve known men like that—there are many in fashionable New York. I’ve even seen plays in which women kiss.”

If his jaw could have fallen off and hit the gravel, it would have. “You are—you are very sophisticated.” He made it sound scandalous.

“I’m not. But I’m not shocked.” She crossed her arms over her chest and thrust her hip forward. “What hurts is that when he was courting me, he was conning me. I didn’t mean a damn thing to him. But he thought I was naive enough to believe him. And that hurts.”

Nigel winced. “I am sorry you were hurt. And I am sorry, but you are correct.”

Then she realized the truth. It was cool on the drive, but she began to feel awfully hot. And angry. “You knew all along about him. You knew
why
he was not in love with me. That was what you were trying to tell me in my car.”

“He believed marriage would protect him from rumors. A long-term marriage would accomplish that better. A marriage that dissolved shortly after the supposed wedding night might only feed rumors.”

“And you went along. For the sake of the family, of course.” She let the last words ripple out in careless tones, but rage now made her shake. “Okay, you did try to warn me. But why didn’t you tell me the
truth?
”

“I couldn’t. It is Sebastian’s secret. I had no right to tell you. Do you now see why I have disapproved of this from the beginning? That time you saw Sebastian punch me? That was why. He’d outlined his plan and I was furious. I knew you had lost your fiancé. You were vulnerable. But you were so stubborn, you refused to listen.”

“So that is why you hit your brother over me?”

“Yes.” And he turned red. Then he frowned. “Why are you ending the engagement, if the marriage was just to end in divorce?”

God, why did he think? Did he feel anything for her at all? Did the fact he’d punched Sebastian mean anything? She couldn’t see any desire for her in his grim expression.

“I couldn’t go through with a marriage with him when I was making love with you,” she said softly. “I don’t understand you. I thought after—after what happened, things would be different. Tell me, Nigel, why did you get into that airplane with me?”

“Because I did not think.”

She drew back. “What a damned answer.” She whirled and stalked away.

She had been falling in love with him, and he didn’t care two bits about her. She’d thought his passion meant something—meant that he was dazzled by her, that he wanted her.... She’d thought it meant more than that. She’d thought if she could get the Duke of Langford to do something wild like that with her, he had to be falling in love with her.

She’d been wrong.

His footsteps crunched behind her. “I am sorry, Miss Gifford. Zoe. I expressed that badly. Please, let me walk you back.”

She turned. “Don’t bother. If you think following me will get you under my skirt this time, you’re wrong.” She threw out the words, full of anger. And not just at him. She didn’t care what she said. She wanted to hurt him, even if her words physically hurt her, too.

Visible pain showed on Nigel’s face, but she kept walking. Fast. He ran after her—she heard his steps on the gravel. He caught her arm and stopped her. He raked his hand through his hair, making it stick out. “As to what happened in the—the aeroplane, that is what we have to discuss.”

“Discuss?”

“Yes. You see, Zoe, I owe you—”

“So this is where you disappeared to. Grandmama is having a fit, Nigel. She was hoping to attach you to Miss Strutt.” Julia came walking toward them, emerging from the shadows, and she screwed up her face in an exaggerated expression of pain. “They never leave us alone until we marry. Were you going to escape by going for a drive?”

Julia gazed innocently at them both, then looked toward the garage. Nigel jumped in front of her view, grasped his sister’s arm and turned her to face the house. Zoe saw the panic in his eyes. “No,” he said quickly, “we were going back to the house.”

“Are you up to something? You look nervous.” Her gaze flicked from him to Zoe. Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she said.

“What do you mean ‘oh’?” Nigel demanded. “We are not up to anything. There’s no reason for an ‘oh,’ Julia. Now, let’s take you back to the house.” He put his hand to Julia’s back and forced her to walk swiftly away from the garage.

It was awkward, but funny, too. He was trying to protect Julia and Sebastian, Zoe supposed. It was very sweet how worried he was.

He was an irritating man, but in many ways a good one.

Maybe she could understand why he hadn’t told her about Sebastian. Besides, could she really imagine Nigel telling her that Sebastian preferred men? He wouldn’t have got the words out of his mouth. But he’d tried to warn her, in his own way.

Zoe glanced back to the closed wooden door. The anger she’d felt was still there, but Nigel’s apologies had taken the edge off it. She supposed Sebastian was desperate. He was afraid. He was also in love with someone he could not have—at least not publicly.

Now she understood the bitterness and anger seething in him. His devil-may-care attitude must be hiding a great deal of pain.

Marriage would still help save Sebastian from rumors. And it would save her, too.

Could she go through with it? A good businesswoman would do it. Was she going to throw her mother into risk of prosecution by Uncle Hiram just because she couldn’t forget Nigel—a man who obviously would never love her back?

* * *

Julia stayed with them as they walked to the house and accompanied them upstairs. At the door to the corridor that led to the women’s bedrooms, Nigel said good-night to both of them, went to his bedroom and paced the floor. After twenty minutes, he gambled on returning.

At Zoe’s door, Nigel looked up and down the hallway. All was quiet, and no sound came from inside her room. He knocked as discreetly as he could.

The door started to open. At that moment Nigel recognized his error—this was likely Zoe’s maid, there to undress her. Panic rose. He took a step in retreat—

The hand that slipped around the door was slender, graceful, the nails glossy with red polish, the very tips unadorned. That was definitely Zoe. Her face appeared in the small space between door and frame. She was freshly washed. He hadn’t seen her without makeup since the night in the Savoy. Her lips were full and lush but a pale pink. Her lashes were long and golden.

She looked younger.

Of course, she was only twenty.

He felt a spurt of guilt, but he was used to the feeling. “Miss Gifford, I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“Let me in before someone sees me. Please.”

“You have to answer one question first. Close your eyes.”

Nigel did what she asked, confused. Anyone could catch him out here. There was no time for games. Did she not understand that?

“I’m wearing a silk robe and nothing else. Imagine taking my robe off me. Sliding it down my shoulders and letting it fall, leaving me completely...exposed to you. If you think about that, what do you want to call me? Zoe or Miss Gifford?”

God, he was in pain picturing that image. “I do not have the right to call you Zoe. Not anymore. Not unless I have the chance to make things right.” He opened his eyes.

She frowned. “That wasn’t the answer I expected.” But she opened the door wide and stepped back, letting him enter her room and close the door behind him.

She wore a pink silk robe that clung to her slender figure.

Was there really nothing underneath?

Damn, he had no right to wonder.

She had one of Brideswell’s best rooms, but before Zoe had come into it, it had looked a bit shabby. Furniture had been sold, the carpet was worn, bed hangings faded. Now it sparkled—gold brushes on the vanity, dozens of faceted glass bottles, jewels cast over the table, glittering dresses lying over the remaining chairs, the end of the bed. As if she was so busy grasping life that she had no time to care about anything.

“I dismissed my maid early tonight,” she said. “I never guessed you’d come to see me, though.” She stopped and turned around. “There’s something I have to know.”

Next thing he knew, her arms were around his neck and her mouth was wildly, passionately setting fire to his.

He caught hold of her arms and gently pushed her back. His breath came as fast as hers—in quick, shallow pants. “Nothing more can happen now, Zoe. I should behave respectfully, because I know you were innocent before this afternoon, in the aeroplane.”

“Shouldn’t the way you treat a girl depend on how you feel about her? Do you want to kiss me or not?”

“I have to behave like a gentleman. That is why I came to your room tonight.”

“Really?” She sat on the edge of the small writing desk and crossed her legs. The silk fell away, revealing their beautiful length. Making it hard for him to think.

He couldn’t understand her. He had taken her innocence. But she hadn’t demanded anything from him.

He didn’t know what to make of her. He understood the rules of Englishwomen. Zoe did not seem to be bound by any rules.

What did it mean for a marriage when he didn’t understand her?

But he did desire her like mad. That was going to have to be enough to make the marriage work.

He cleared his throat. “Zoe, there is something I must say to you.”

“You look so serious I feel like I’ve been hauled in front of a judge.” She dragged a silver case off the writing desk and took out a cigarette.

Nigel cleared his throat. “Given what has happened between us, it is my duty to marry you.”

* * *

He was using the stuffiest, most pompous tones she had ever heard him use. He didn’t bend down onto one knee. Instead, he raked back his hair, then paced in front of her.

After trying to kiss him, to find his passion again, Zoe felt as if she’d landed on earth with a hard thud. “It’s your duty to marry me? Why, exactly?”

“I owe you marriage, Zoe. You were...innocent. I didn’t realize you were. Now I pay the price—”

“Pay the price?” she repeated, getting angry. “I get it. You deserve to be punished, and marriage to me would punish you nicely?”

“A gentleman doesn’t ravish a young woman and walk away.”

“What if the woman in question wishes he would right now?”

“I don’t understand. Surely you expect marriage, Zoe?”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she snapped. “The only time you act like a living, breathing human man is when you’re having sex. The rest of the time you’re a block of ice.”

“Be that as it may, we must be wed.”

“I thought I might have thawed you out. Permanently. But all you have in your heart is cold, hard duty. I don’t want to be sentenced to a lifetime with a man who resents being with me. So get out of my room, Your Grace. You’re off the hook.”

“Zoe—”

She scuttled away from him, putting the writing desk between them. How crazy she’d been to even dream he might be falling in love with her. And it hurt so much. “Get out. I don’t care what you think you owe me. I refuse to marry a man who is buried in a deeper layer of ice than the North Pole.”

* * *

A knock on the door woke Zoe early. Her eyes ached and felt puffy.

The door opened, and Mother swept in. “Zoe, I want to know exactly what is going on. I saw Lady Julia leave last night to take a walk outside, and I saw her come back with both you and the duke. Did His Grace arrange to meet you last night?”

She did not even want to think about last night. She sat up, her bedclothes falling away. “No, I arranged to meet Sebastian. I was going to break off my engagement with him.”

Mother had been pouring tea on the tea tray. She jerked the teapot and a stream poured all over the tray. “You are going to do what?”

“End my engagement with Sebastian.”

She could almost see gears spinning in Mother’s head. “Why are you going to do that?” A delighted glow came into Mother’s eyes. “It’s because of the duke, isn’t it?”

“I found out Sebastian is in love with someone else.”

“He is? Good gracious, who?”

Zoe shrugged. She had been quite willing to shock Nigel. She wasn’t willing to shock her mother. There might be fainting. Or Mother might end up taking to her bed ill, hoping to use Zoe’s worry to coax her in the direction Mother wanted her to take. “Someone at the house party.”

Mother frowned. “Who? Other than you, the only eligible girl was Miss Strutt.” Mother smiled wickedly. “How delicious. So the girl brought in by the dowager to snare the duke is the sweetheart of his brother? Won’t she be disappointed? And this is absolutely perfect—”

“If you are about to plot a way to get the duke to propose to me, don’t bother.” Perhaps shocking was in order. She wanted the conversation to end. “Nigel asked me last night and I said no.”

“Nigel?” Mother repeated, in a strange, cracking voice.

“The duke. That is his first name.”

“The Duke of Langford proposed. And you turned him
down?
”

“Yes. So you have no need to plot schemes. The duke and I beat you to it. And I may have changed my mind about ending my engagement with Sebastian—after all, we planned all along that the marriage would end in a divorce. It doesn’t matter who he’s in love with.”