The Black Duke's Prize (20 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Enoch

BOOK: The Black Duke's Prize
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"Nicholas?" she said sleepily.

"Yes?" he responded, wearily sinking back
down into the chair.

"Did you call me your 'love,' earlier?"

"Yes, I did," he answered after a
hesitation. Lord, she unsettled him.

"I thought so," she murmured, smiling,
and then was asleep.

Nicholas tended to her ankles, and then sat
watching over her for a long time. Here he was, alone at Crestley Hall with a
beautiful woman lying naked only a few feet away, completely at his mercy, and
he was behaving like a perfect gentleman. And with no witnesses to be impressed
by his self-restraint. He must be in love, he reflected with a smile. Only
that could make him act so utterly stupid.

 

 

 

15

 

"G
ood morning."

Katherine sat up stiffly and looked toward the
window, to see Nicholas sitting in the deep sill. He was still in his shirt
sleeves, and, from the look of him, hadn't left her side all night. "Good
morning," she answered, feeling abruptly shy and wondering how he had
gotten her into a clean shift without waking her up.

"How do you feel?" he asked, leaving his
seat and walking over to stuff several pillows behind her so she could lean
back.

"Much better," she answered, smiling at
him.

"Your uncle is gone," he told her,
sitting in the chair beside her, "and Gladstone says he seemed to accept
the idea that he wouldn't be returning. He won't be bothering you again."

She agreed. The chance for Simon Ralston to profit
there had been removed thanks to Nicholas Varon's name on the deed, and so he
would have no reason to remain, or to return. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome, though I know how opposed you
were to signing Crestley over. We had no luck in coming up with an alternative
solution that wouldn't give your uncle a reason to torment you later." He
sat back and chuckled. "My man, Gladstone, has a talent for
subversiveness I never suspected. I'm certain he could be a master criminal if
he wished."

"As could you, no doubt," she noted,
grinning.

"Do you think so?" he queried, raising an
eyebrow. "I did rather enjoy the results of our efforts." He sobered,
reaching over to take her hand and caress her bandaged wrist. "The price
was too high, however, and I think I shall have to keep to tamer pursuits in the
future." He grinned wickedly. "Slightly tamer."

Gladstone scratched at the door, and Nicholas rose
to open it. The duke's man of business entered, carrying a tray laden with what
smelled like toast and potato soup. "Good morning, Your Grace . . . milady.
There isn't much in the kitchen," he explained as he placed the tray on
the nightstand, "so I put together what looked edible. Jack has gone into
the village to buy some things."

"Gladstone," Nicholas exclaimed as his
man turned to leave, "another talent. You have the makings of a fine
cook."

"Thank you, Your Grace, but I have already
found employment I rather enjoy," he replied, bowing as he left the room.

"You shouldn't tease him so, Nicholas,"
Katherine admonished, only to have him turn his attention back on her.

"It is one of my major goals in life to see
Gladstone crack a smile," the Black Duke responded, returning to the chair
and picking up the bowl of soup. "A bit below my station," he
muttered, dipping the spoon into the hot liquid, "but I think I can
manage this."

"Nonsense," she returned. "I can
feed myself."

He shrugged and handed over the soup bowl. "As
you wish."

She took a mouthful, watching him watching her.
"I don't need you to watch me eat, either," she shot back, setting
aside the bowl when he showed no sign of leaving.

Finally he sighed and rose. "Well, at least
you appear to be feeling better," he noted, and walked to the· door.
"I'm right next door. If you need me, throw something at the wall."

"Very amusing," she retorted, tempted to
throw something at him instead.

The Black Duke grinned, gave a stiff bow, which abruptly
reminded her that he was wounded as well, and left the room. The door clicked
shut behind him, leaving her alone.

She had begun to realize that he intentionally
provoked her, likely just to see how she would react. And she enjoyed it
immensely, enjoyed the challenge of matching wits with him, and enjoyed seeing
the amused appreciation in his eyes when she scored a hit. It was at Crestley
two months earlier that she had given up her dream of a white knight. And here
a few hours ago she had realized that perhaps black knights were more
interesting, and that perhaps she had found one. She couldn't say exactly when
she had fallen in love with Nicholas Varon, but now that she recognized that
she had, it seemed it had always been so.

She finished her soup, and then experimentally rose
and walked about the bedchamber. She was stiffer than she had been the day
before, but the sharp pain in her wrists and ankles was gone, and she could
almost feel the liniment working.

Someone knocked quietly at the door, and Nicholas
entered before she could answer. He stopped as he saw her standing there.
"Sorry to intrude," he said, "but I thought you might be asleep,
and I didn't want to wake you. I should have realized you'd be preparing for a
hike in the country."

He had put on a clean shirt and waistcoat, and his
cravat was tied in a simple knot. She found herself looking at him closely, as
though she, had never seen him before. Again she took in his lean,
broad-shouldered frame, the black, wavy hair that touched his collar, and those
emerald-highlighted gray eyes that had begun twinkling at her again.

''What is it―have I grown a third eye?"
he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She blushed and turned toward the window. "I
was just thinking you must be exhausted," she lied.

"I could do with some sleep." He stepped
past her toward the wardrobe. "Do you feel like coming downstairs for a
few moments?"

"All right," she agreed, "but I can
choose my own clothes, thank you very much." She picked a
 
blue muslin and pulled it on over her shift.
She did let him lace the dress up the back, for, stiff as she was, she never
would have been able to do it. Wryly she noted the ease with which he performed
the task; he seemed to have a great deal of experience with the fastenings on
women's clothing.

"Finished," he said after a moment, and
took her shoulders to turn her around. "Have you looked out the window
yet?" he asked abruptly, frowning a little as he glanced toward the
casement.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I
was going to, when you came in. Why?" Abruptly she realized just how long
she had been away. She could only imagine what Crestley must look like now.

"Just remember," he said, taking her hand
and leading her to the door, "whatever you see, we can make it right. I
did purchase the entire Crestley estate, so you now have a great deal of money
at your disposal."

The two of them went downstairs, and Nicholas
opened the front door. "Where's Timms?" Katherine asked, abruptly
missing the butler.

"Apparently your uncle let the entire staff
go, except for the one woman who had been coming down from the village to
cook. I think she had been stealing, and I took the liberty of letting her
go."

"Can we get them back?" The members of
the staff had been at Crestley for years. When her uncle had begun dismissing
them it had been like losing more of her family.

''Give
Gladstone
their names, and we'll see what can be done," Nicholas replied.

Once outside, she realized what he had meant. The
drive was ugly and rutted, and the lush ivy that had trailed up the walls was
dead and tangled at the base of the stones. They had to walk through part of
the garden to get to the stables, and weeds twisted among and lifted the
stepping stones. All of the roses were dead. Crestley had been neglected since
her mother's illness, but Kate was appalled at how far the estate had
deteriorated in only a few short months.

They found the duke's bay coach horses staked out
in front of the stables, with Jack inside, trying to repair one of the stalls.
"Couldn't leave'em in here, Your Grace," he said. "There's a
nest of rats in the loft, and the hay's gone bad."

"Where're the horses?" Katherine asked,
dismayed. "My horses, I mean?"

Nicholas tightened his grip on her hand. "Your
uncle sold them off, but Gladstone managed to purchase all of them back.
They're at Sommesby, in my stables. And quite a fine lot, from what I
hear."

"I suppose I should thank you, then," she
said quietly, feeling that events had turned far out of her control, and that
she was at the mercy of scheming uncles and roguish dukes.

"If you wish," he answered, seeming to
sense her mood, ''but it's not necessary."

She cleared her throat. "What about the tenant
lands?"

"According to Gladstone they could be
worse," Nicholas replied, following her back toward the house. ''The
acreage is a bit overgrown, but the crop still seems to be all right. Your
uncle wasn't destructive, just negligent."

"No need to look after something if you don't
intend to keep it, I suppose," she murmured, dismayed to realize that she
was crying.

Nicholas turned her around and hugged her. "I
told you that you needn't worry," he said into her hair.

For a moment she simply stood and let him hold her,
putting her arms about his waist to pull him to her in return. "I gave
that money back to you," she replied after a moment, understanding what he
was referring to. That was one thing she refused to give ground on. "My feelings
remain the same. I want no money changing hands where Crestley Hall is
concerned. It wouldn't be right."

He was silent for a moment. "Well, then,
consider that Crestley has suffered a blight, and allow me to loan you enough
to set everything to rights again."

"Why did you gamble the Viscount of Worton's
land away from him?" She finally trusted him where Crestley was concerned,
but it was important that she know, especially with her home in his hands now,
and especially because she had fallen in love with him.

He looked down. "Because I was drunk, and
angry, and because he was draining so much money out of Worton that his tenants
were starving."

"But you gave the deed to a footman."

"Yes, I did. It wasn't at all legal, though,
and Phillips, the footman, is now overseeing Worton while the viscount makes
improvements to it, at which time Phillips will return the deed to him."
He sighed. "The conclusion isn't nearly as dramatic a tale as the
beginning, I'm afraid, so it hasn't circulated nearly as widely."

"So you are occasionally pleasant," she
commented, and he smiled.

"Depends who you ask, I suppose."

"I accept your offer of a loan, but I intend
to repay it as soon as Crestley is up and running again." There was still
money held in her trust, but that wouldn't be accessible for another two years.
She wouldn't make him wait that long.

"That's the spirit," he said approvingly,
leaning down to kiss her forehead.

She tilted her face up further, for it wasn't her
forehead that she wanted kissed. He grinned and bent his head to comply.
Katherine closed her eyes, but when she didn't feel his mouth touch hers, she
opened them again. Nicholas was looking down at her, a wry grimace on his
face.

"What is it?"

"There's no one about to stop me," he answered
softly.

"Despite my best efforts I fear that I am
becoming sadly proper, after all." He looked as though he wanted to say
something further, but at the sound of a coach in the drive they both started.
"Neville and Alison, I would assume," he said, and took her hand
again.

He was correct. As they came around the comer Lord
Neville was helping Lady Alison to the ground. "Kate, you are all
right," Lady Alison cried, hurrying forward and drawing her into a tight
embrace.

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